Lead Belly by David Donaghe
in the same store was a sweat girl who would have made him happy, but she carried a few more pounds on her than Janet. If you wouldn’t have killed yourself, you and Janet might of got together and they’d of had a chance.”
“Honey why don’t you slice up that pie and dish us up a bowl of ice cream,” the fat man on the Lazy Boy said to his wife. Janet smiled, put her knitting aside and went into the kitchen.
“It’s the only pleasure she gets out of life; eating, and maybe her knitting,” I said.
“So what happens to them?” Lead Belly asked.
“They grow old; the kids go off to college. She gets a heart condition and dies. He last for a few more years and then his liver fails.”
“This place is depressing. Let’s get out of here,” Lead Belly said.
We swaggered through the door, climbed back on our scooters and headed up the road. The air around us shimmered, reality rippled and once more, we sat on our motor scooters in front of Lead Belly’s Mobile home.
We climbed off the motorcycles and stepped up onto his front porch. Lead Belly took a seat and I sat down across from him. I pulled a bottle of Jack from my vest pocket and handed it to him. He took a shot.
“Are we back in my place and time now?” Lead Belly asked.
“We’re back in your place and time. I wouldn’t try walking through no walls or doors like we did earlier. You might get a knot on your head.” An evil looking demon in a dark robe tried to crawl up on the porch, but I pulled my 45. A pulse of blue light shot from the barrel and the Devil’s imp disappeared in a flash of blue light.
“What was that?” Lead Belly asked, in sock.
I tucked my forty-five back in my waistband. “That was one of the Devil’s miss guided children. He wants your soul.”
“All that stuff I saw. It wasn’t real, was it?”
I shrugged. “It’s what could have happened; what most likely would have happened. The future is an open book. It’s like an unwritten page. We control our own destiny by the decisions we make, and the deeds we do.”
“Janet doesn’t have to marry that fat bastard?”
“No, life is about choices. Sometimes you make the right ones, and sometimes you make the wrong ones.” I picked up his 357 and put it in his lap. “It’s like this choice you’re thinking about. With just one pull of the trigger, you’ll change not only your life, but the lives of everyone around you.”
Lead Belly sat the revolver down next to his chair. “Let’s say I don’t kill myself? What happens then?”
I grinned. “That all depends on you and the choices you make, but let’s see what might happen if you don’t bite the bullet. Let’s take another ride.”
We headed down the driveway, took a left and headed down Main Street.
“Where we going?” Lead Belly yelled.
“I thought we’d head down to the clubhouse,” I yelled back, so he could hear me over the sound of the rushing wind.
We motored through town, took the two lane highway heading toward Phoenix. Five miles west of town, we pulled into the gravel parking lot of The High Noon Saloon. Motorcycles, cars trucks and vehicles of every description filled the parking lot. Loud rock and roll music emanated from the bar. A couple of prospects sat out front guarding the motorcycles.
“What’s going on here?” Lead Belly asked.
“Why don’t we go inside and find out?” I replied.
We followed one of the club members inside, moving through the crowded bar room. Lead Belly stopped in the center of the room gazing about. Someone had decorated the room for a wedding. Presents set stacked on one of the tables and a large wedding cake formed to look like a motorcycle wheel set on another table. The small bride and groom on top of the cake had been custom painted to look like a biker and his old lady.
“Who’s getting married?” Lead Belly asked.
I laughed. “You are. Let’s go up front so we can take in all the action.”
We elbowed our way through the crowd of on lookers, even though they couldn’t see us or feel us pass by until we stepped up next to the bride and groom. Chico stood next to another, older looking version of Lead Belly. Janet, the girl from Subway, stood next to Lead Belly. Her smile radiated happiness. The minister, one of the bros who served as the chapter’s Chaplin, stood up to perform the wedding. The band quit playing. The Chaplin, an older bro with a long bead looked up and smiled.
“Let’s start this shin dig. Do you, David Henderson, AKA Lead Belly promise to torture and torment only Janet Knight for the rest of your life and to treat her at least as good as you do your Harley?”
“I do,” the older version of Lead Belly said. The crowd cheered.
“Do you, Janet Knight, promise to torture and torment only Lead Belly for the rest of your life and to put up with his shit to the best of your ability, only then resorting to fetching him upside the head with a frying pan?”
“I do,” Janet replied.
“I now pronounce you man and wife. Kiss her already so we can get on with the party.”
The crowd cheered, and the older version of Lead Belly put her in a lip lock bending her over backward. I slapped the slightly younger looking version of Lead Belly, standing next to me on the back and said, “Let’s go over to the bar and have a drink.”
“I thought they couldn’t see or hear us? How are we gonna order a drink?”
I laughed. “When I come back on these missions, I have certain abilities,” I said and we headed to the bar. I found us two empty bar stools and we sat down. “Hey! Prospect! Give me a Jack and Coke and get my bro, here a beer!” I yelled, projecting my voice.
“Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on,” the prospect-tending bar, whose back, was to us said.
“I thought they weren’t supposed to be able to hear us, or see us?” Lead Belly said.
“It’s a trick you pick up after you pass on.”
The prospect turned around and set the Jack and Coke down on the bar, along with a beer. “All right. Who’s fucking with me? Who ordered these drinks?” the prospect said, but a bro down the bar called for a beer and he headed down that way. I handed Lead Belly his beer and picked up my Jack and Coke. When the glass touched our hands, they disappeared.
“You look like you enjoyed that,” Lead Belly said.
“Yeah, I always did enjoy fuckin’ with the prospects.” We finished our drinks, I ordered two more, causing the prospect some more grief, and then we watched the happy couple hit the dance floor.
“They look happy, or I should say we look happy,” Lead Belly said.
“Yeah, but remember. This ain’t real. It’s just what could happen, what most likely will happen, if you don’t kill yourself, but in the end, it’s all up to you. Life is about choices. Are you ready to ride?” I asked.
“Where to now?” Lead Belly asked.
“Oh, we’re gonna fast forward a few years to the future,” I said.
“Why not? It ain’t like I got anything better to do,” Lead Belly replied and we headed to the door, passing through the crowded bar room. Outside, in the parking lot we climbed onto our scooters and fired them up. “Where are we going?” Lead Belly yelled, over the noise of the engines.
“You’ll see. Let’s roll,” I said and cranked the throttle. I crossed the parking lot and headed east toward town. Lead Belly followed. Around us the air shimmered, I breathed in the scent of burning ozone and reality shifted once again. We hit town, headed down Main Street passing a hardware store and a bank. When we passed the town graveyard, I glanced over and saw several sets of evil looking red eyes that looked as if they were peering at us from the pits of hell. I guess the Devil’s imps are out in force tonight, I thought. I turned left onto Baker Street and pulled into the parking lot of Saint Ann’s Hospital. We parked our scooters and swaggered over to the main entrance.
“What are we doing here? Are you showing how I’m gonna die?” Lead Belly asked.
“No, you’ll see. Let’s take a walk,” I said and climbed off the
bike.
When we reached the front entrance of the hospital, a band of five to six little evil looking demons blocked the door. They wore black robes, smelled like road kill and their faces were covered with warts. I saw a few horns protruding through the hoods of their robes and their evil looking red beady eyes peered at us from the darkness. Lead Belly jumped back.
“Whoa man. What’s this?”
“Oh these guys ain't nothing. They’re just some of the devil’s soldiers on the scout for souls. They hang around hospitals and funeral homes. When a person dies, they’re vulnerable. That’s why the powers that be on the other side usually send someone back to escort the person home. They want to make sure they wind up in the right place. Don’t worry about these guys,” I said pulling my arm back. I flung it forward as if I was throwing a softball. A ball of blue light shot out of my hand, hitting the Devil’s boys and they exploded into a blue fireball.
“How’d you do that?” Lead Belly asked.
“It’s one of the perks you get when you wear the halo patch. You are allowed certain powers when you come back on a mission.” We passed through the front door of the hospital with out opening it.
“What, is the older version of me dying? Did he crack up on his scooter? Where are we going here?”
I chuckled. “No, nothing like that. I thought we’d take a stroll down to the maternity ward.”
When we entered the maternity ward, Lead Belly began to get nervous and I noticed sweat running down his forehead. “Man, I’m not used to this
“Honey why don’t you slice up that pie and dish us up a bowl of ice cream,” the fat man on the Lazy Boy said to his wife. Janet smiled, put her knitting aside and went into the kitchen.
“It’s the only pleasure she gets out of life; eating, and maybe her knitting,” I said.
“So what happens to them?” Lead Belly asked.
“They grow old; the kids go off to college. She gets a heart condition and dies. He last for a few more years and then his liver fails.”
“This place is depressing. Let’s get out of here,” Lead Belly said.
We swaggered through the door, climbed back on our scooters and headed up the road. The air around us shimmered, reality rippled and once more, we sat on our motor scooters in front of Lead Belly’s Mobile home.
We climbed off the motorcycles and stepped up onto his front porch. Lead Belly took a seat and I sat down across from him. I pulled a bottle of Jack from my vest pocket and handed it to him. He took a shot.
“Are we back in my place and time now?” Lead Belly asked.
“We’re back in your place and time. I wouldn’t try walking through no walls or doors like we did earlier. You might get a knot on your head.” An evil looking demon in a dark robe tried to crawl up on the porch, but I pulled my 45. A pulse of blue light shot from the barrel and the Devil’s imp disappeared in a flash of blue light.
“What was that?” Lead Belly asked, in sock.
I tucked my forty-five back in my waistband. “That was one of the Devil’s miss guided children. He wants your soul.”
“All that stuff I saw. It wasn’t real, was it?”
I shrugged. “It’s what could have happened; what most likely would have happened. The future is an open book. It’s like an unwritten page. We control our own destiny by the decisions we make, and the deeds we do.”
“Janet doesn’t have to marry that fat bastard?”
“No, life is about choices. Sometimes you make the right ones, and sometimes you make the wrong ones.” I picked up his 357 and put it in his lap. “It’s like this choice you’re thinking about. With just one pull of the trigger, you’ll change not only your life, but the lives of everyone around you.”
Lead Belly sat the revolver down next to his chair. “Let’s say I don’t kill myself? What happens then?”
I grinned. “That all depends on you and the choices you make, but let’s see what might happen if you don’t bite the bullet. Let’s take another ride.”
We headed down the driveway, took a left and headed down Main Street.
“Where we going?” Lead Belly yelled.
“I thought we’d head down to the clubhouse,” I yelled back, so he could hear me over the sound of the rushing wind.
We motored through town, took the two lane highway heading toward Phoenix. Five miles west of town, we pulled into the gravel parking lot of The High Noon Saloon. Motorcycles, cars trucks and vehicles of every description filled the parking lot. Loud rock and roll music emanated from the bar. A couple of prospects sat out front guarding the motorcycles.
“What’s going on here?” Lead Belly asked.
“Why don’t we go inside and find out?” I replied.
We followed one of the club members inside, moving through the crowded bar room. Lead Belly stopped in the center of the room gazing about. Someone had decorated the room for a wedding. Presents set stacked on one of the tables and a large wedding cake formed to look like a motorcycle wheel set on another table. The small bride and groom on top of the cake had been custom painted to look like a biker and his old lady.
“Who’s getting married?” Lead Belly asked.
I laughed. “You are. Let’s go up front so we can take in all the action.”
We elbowed our way through the crowd of on lookers, even though they couldn’t see us or feel us pass by until we stepped up next to the bride and groom. Chico stood next to another, older looking version of Lead Belly. Janet, the girl from Subway, stood next to Lead Belly. Her smile radiated happiness. The minister, one of the bros who served as the chapter’s Chaplin, stood up to perform the wedding. The band quit playing. The Chaplin, an older bro with a long bead looked up and smiled.
“Let’s start this shin dig. Do you, David Henderson, AKA Lead Belly promise to torture and torment only Janet Knight for the rest of your life and to treat her at least as good as you do your Harley?”
“I do,” the older version of Lead Belly said. The crowd cheered.
“Do you, Janet Knight, promise to torture and torment only Lead Belly for the rest of your life and to put up with his shit to the best of your ability, only then resorting to fetching him upside the head with a frying pan?”
“I do,” Janet replied.
“I now pronounce you man and wife. Kiss her already so we can get on with the party.”
The crowd cheered, and the older version of Lead Belly put her in a lip lock bending her over backward. I slapped the slightly younger looking version of Lead Belly, standing next to me on the back and said, “Let’s go over to the bar and have a drink.”
“I thought they couldn’t see or hear us? How are we gonna order a drink?”
I laughed. “When I come back on these missions, I have certain abilities,” I said and we headed to the bar. I found us two empty bar stools and we sat down. “Hey! Prospect! Give me a Jack and Coke and get my bro, here a beer!” I yelled, projecting my voice.
“Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on,” the prospect-tending bar, whose back, was to us said.
“I thought they weren’t supposed to be able to hear us, or see us?” Lead Belly said.
“It’s a trick you pick up after you pass on.”
The prospect turned around and set the Jack and Coke down on the bar, along with a beer. “All right. Who’s fucking with me? Who ordered these drinks?” the prospect said, but a bro down the bar called for a beer and he headed down that way. I handed Lead Belly his beer and picked up my Jack and Coke. When the glass touched our hands, they disappeared.
“You look like you enjoyed that,” Lead Belly said.
“Yeah, I always did enjoy fuckin’ with the prospects.” We finished our drinks, I ordered two more, causing the prospect some more grief, and then we watched the happy couple hit the dance floor.
“They look happy, or I should say we look happy,” Lead Belly said.
“Yeah, but remember. This ain’t real. It’s just what could happen, what most likely will happen, if you don’t kill yourself, but in the end, it’s all up to you. Life is about choices. Are you ready to ride?” I asked.
“Where to now?” Lead Belly asked.
“Oh, we’re gonna fast forward a few years to the future,” I said.
“Why not? It ain’t like I got anything better to do,” Lead Belly replied and we headed to the door, passing through the crowded bar room. Outside, in the parking lot we climbed onto our scooters and fired them up. “Where are we going?” Lead Belly yelled, over the noise of the engines.
“You’ll see. Let’s roll,” I said and cranked the throttle. I crossed the parking lot and headed east toward town. Lead Belly followed. Around us the air shimmered, I breathed in the scent of burning ozone and reality shifted once again. We hit town, headed down Main Street passing a hardware store and a bank. When we passed the town graveyard, I glanced over and saw several sets of evil looking red eyes that looked as if they were peering at us from the pits of hell. I guess the Devil’s imps are out in force tonight, I thought. I turned left onto Baker Street and pulled into the parking lot of Saint Ann’s Hospital. We parked our scooters and swaggered over to the main entrance.
“What are we doing here? Are you showing how I’m gonna die?” Lead Belly asked.
“No, you’ll see. Let’s take a walk,” I said and climbed off the
When we reached the front entrance of the hospital, a band of five to six little evil looking demons blocked the door. They wore black robes, smelled like road kill and their faces were covered with warts. I saw a few horns protruding through the hoods of their robes and their evil looking red beady eyes peered at us from the darkness. Lead Belly jumped back.
“Whoa man. What’s this?”
“Oh these guys ain't nothing. They’re just some of the devil’s soldiers on the scout for souls. They hang around hospitals and funeral homes. When a person dies, they’re vulnerable. That’s why the powers that be on the other side usually send someone back to escort the person home. They want to make sure they wind up in the right place. Don’t worry about these guys,” I said pulling my arm back. I flung it forward as if I was throwing a softball. A ball of blue light shot out of my hand, hitting the Devil’s boys and they exploded into a blue fireball.
“How’d you do that?” Lead Belly asked.
“It’s one of the perks you get when you wear the halo patch. You are allowed certain powers when you come back on a mission.” We passed through the front door of the hospital with out opening it.
“What, is the older version of me dying? Did he crack up on his scooter? Where are we going here?”
I chuckled. “No, nothing like that. I thought we’d take a stroll down to the maternity ward.”
When we entered the maternity ward, Lead Belly began to get nervous and I noticed sweat running down his forehead. “Man, I’m not used to this