Page 14 of Volt
He shrugs. “I like to think everybody feels a sense of civic responsibility to help keep Blue Rock clean and safe.”
I smile and pour him another beer as he finishes up with the last one. He’s cagey and thinks on his feet quickly. I don’t know why I kept pressing him so hard knowing I wouldn’t get any straight answers out of him, but my curiosity kept me asking anyway. I’m not a girl who’s into the bad boys, like I said, but there’s something about Blake and his lifestyle that have me curious. He intrigues me.
I set the mug down in front of him and take the empty away. There’s a part of me that’s screaming at me, telling me to run for the hills. He’s edgy, and he’s a biker. Those two things should be enough to send me running in the opposite direction. But even though the things he and his club do in dispensing justice the way they supposedly do are harsh and brutal, I have to admit to admiring their commitment to their town. If it’s true, I admire them for keeping the people in their town safe. Not a lot of people care for their hometowns like that. Not many people would put their bodies on the line for their towns like that.
“So now tell me why Volt is your club name,” I say. “I’m curious.”
“Because back when I was in the Corps, I served in an electronic intelligence unit,” he tells me. “We intercepted radio signals, put together the electronics surveillance packages, lased targets for the smart bombs you saw on the news... that sort of thing. I’ve always been a whiz with electronic things, so they decided on Volt because it’s what I primarily did over there—worked with different battalions and got them set up with electronics packages—so it means something. It’s personal.”
“Huh. That’s interesting.”
“That’s how most of the guys get their names. Since most all of us are vets, a lot of guys use their old call signs, or if not that, then something that relates to your job over there.”
“Where did you serve?”
“Afghanistan mainly.”
“I can’t even imagine what you had to go through over there.”
“It’s not something I’ll be able to forget, that’s for sure,” he says with a touch of sadness in his voice.
“So what made you decide to join a rough crowd like a motorcycle club?”
A wry smile touches his lips. “Like I said, it’s mostly all vets. Guys who’ve been through the shit. We didn’t all serve together but we all went through a lot of the same things,” he replies. “When we rotated home, I think most all of us felt like we didn’t belong here anymore. Nobody really understood us or what we went through over there. They say war changes people. And it’s true. Unfortunately for us, it’s changed us in ways that make it more difficult to relate to people.”
I shrug. “You seem to be doing all right so far.”
He gives me a gentle grin. “That’s because I’m trying to get into your pants so I’m turning on the charm.”
I roll my eyes at him. “You want to know how I know that’s total bullshit?”
“Enlighten me.”
“Because in the whole time you’ve been in here talking to me, you haven’t made one single sexual innuendo or lewd comment to me,” I tell him.
“Maybe I’m just more subtle than most.”
“Please. I’ve been tending bar here for a couple of years now and I’ve learned a lot about human nature,” I say. “To do this job, you have to be part sociologist, part shrink, and part daycare worker. And my time here has taught me to pick out the people who are trying to sleep with me. And you, my friend, haven’t been trying. Believe me when I say I can tell the difference between a degenerate who’s only trying to get into my pants and a decent man.”
His smile is soft, and he looks down into his beer as if he’s embarrassed to be called out like that. He fronts like the bad boy but in the brief time we’ve been talking together, I’ve seen different facets of his personality. Yeah, I think he can be that bad boy, but he’s also kind, gentle, and maybe best of all, he’s respectful.
“Anyway, it’s true. Most of us do have trouble blending back into society,” he continues. “The club is a way for us to connect with other people again. People we can relate to and who understand what we’ve been through. It gives us some solid ground to stand on again.”
“So, it’s part group therapy, part social club,” I offer.
He nods. “Yeah, basically.”
“It’s good that you have something like that.”
“I think so too.”
In between customers over the next few hours, Blake and I spend a lot of time talking. We share stories from our lives. It’s mostly surface things so the conversation is light and filled with a lot of laughter. It’s honestly the best conversation I’ve had with a man in years. Literally. And I’m enjoying every moment of it.
But when it’s time for last call, I realize that I’m not quite ready for it to be over just yet—which I find surprising. Thanks to my less than stellar track record with men, I’ve sworn off any sort of social relationship with a guy. After my last relationship imploded, I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t jump into anything and instead, focus on myself and my art. I reasoned there would be plenty of time for relationships later but if I wanted something to last, I was going to have to figure out what it was inside of me that was broken. What kept me repeating the same mistakes over and over again.
I sometimes see a counselor when I can afford it, but I’ve mainly thrown myself into my art, trying to fix the broken pieces of my soul that way. Art has always been my burning passion and my biggest source of therapy over the years. I’ve gained some fantastic insights about myself, the world around me and my place in it through my art. And I’ve been doing really well on my own. I’ve enjoyed getting back in touch with myself and finding those holes inside of me. It's not always easy. In fact, it’s often painful. But learning where those holes are allows me to patch them. And in the end, that’s only going to help me be a better, more complete person.
As far as dating goes, that’s been off the menu for a long while. And I haven’t really even had the urge to see somebody socially let alone contemplate what I’m thinking about right now. As I look at Blake though and think about the conversation we’ve had and how good a time I’ve had with him tonight, it just feels... right.
