TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE
Ghost agreed...reluctantly...he hated to drive. There were too many rules, and he had trouble focusing on driving and not daydreaming, and he did not have a license, anyway, but off they went down the highway.
Steve liked the way the car ran, and he was good with fixing cars, so if anything needed done, he'd be able to take care of it. What he didn't like, was how Ghost was driving, up ahead of him.
He'd forgotten that Ghost drove like a drunk, old granny, out for a Sunday sightseeing day.
"C'mon, Ghost," Steve muttered, "get it going. Crap, we're only going like thirty miles an hour, and we got thirty miles of this," he said. "Aw, man...he almost ran off in the ditch! Quit daydreaming, Ghost!" he yelled.
People were trying to pass, and giving dirty looks at them both. Steve was afraid a police car would show up next, and haul Ghost in for no license. Meanwhile, Ghost was terrified. He'd only ever driven Steve's T-bird before...a long time ago. Kinsey's was way different. His knuckles were turning white from the death grip he had on the steering wheel. He tried staring at the road only...but, he kept seeing cars pass, and the people were shooting him the bird, and yelling. His heart was pounding, while sweat ran down his face, stinging his eyes. On top of that, his left eye was twitching again, and he could feel a migraine coming on. His stomach was rolling around, and he almost lost his lunch, right there in Kinsey's front seat.
They finally made it back to the Yew. Ghost just started sobbing and shaking, as he put his head down on the steering wheel. Steve jumped out of his car, yelling at Ghost.
"What the hell were you doing, Ghost? A freaking monkey could'a drove better than that! Don't every try to drive this one, 'cause it'll never happen!"
As Steve yanked open the door to Kinsey's car, Ghost cried even harder. "Stop yelling at me, Steve! You know I can't drive."
He tried to get out of the car, but mostly just fell out onto the asphalt by the car, next to the curb.
"Get up off the damn road, Ghost! You look like a fool."
"Steve, please stop yelling at me...my head hurts so bad...and...and..." he gagged. "I feel sick!" He threw up then, right there in the road.
Just as he did, Kinsey, who'd heard the commotion, had come out the front door, just in time to witness this scene; and, to take in the old guys across the street, at the hardware store, who were pretty much forming a posse to come and save Ghost from Steve.
They'd not seen either of them since that day two years ago, when they'd seen a dying Ghost on their porch, and learned it was Steve who'd done it.
Kinsey grabbed Steve, pushing him hard toward the door of the club, then yanked Ghost up off the road, and pushed him into Steve.
"Get your asses inside...NOW!" he yelled. "You've caused enough trouble already. GIT! I'll deal with y'all in a minute. I've gotta hold back the Army." He turned to face the older men. "Nothing to see here, guys," he said, "show's over."
"We won't tolerate Steve beating Ghost, again," one said.
"It's not like that, anymore, guys...go on back to your porch," said Kinsey, as he turned and went into the club. He slammed and locked the door.
"Where'd y'all go?" he hollered. "Get out here...I'm not gonna chase ya down!" He went behind the bar and poured himself a shot of whiskey, gulping it down. He could hear them back at the bathroom. Ghost was still crying and being sick, and had locked the door.
"Open the door, Ghost!" Steve was hollering and banging on the bathroom door. "I'm sorry I hollered at you...let me in there!"
Kinsey shook his head, and poured himself another shot. "I'm too old for this," he sighed.
Steve finally quit his hollering and banging, and Ghost opened the door. He was a mess. His face was red, sweaty, and tearstained. His shirt was wet where he'd tried to wipe off the vomit. He was frowning and holding his hand over his eye, as he was in awful, head pounding pain.
Steve pleaded his apology, and Ghost allowed him to hug him, and lead him out to face Kinsey. They stood there in the cool, dim bar, and Kinsey just looked at them hard.
"What happened, guys?" He didn't yell. Steve started to talk, but Kinsey held up a hand. "Stop...I don't even want to know, but I'll tell you one thing...I've had enough. You two, pretty much grown men, going at it time and time again? When Terry and I left, everyone was in a good mood...when y'all left here, y'all were in a good mood. Now, it's gone crazy again." Kinsey shook his head.
"Well, I'll let y'all do the show next weekend, if you can keep it together long enough. We'll see how it goes...but, I don't ever want to see a commotion like I just saw, to ever happen in or in front of my business again...understood?" He eyed both of them. They both nodded, and said they wre sorry for causing trouble.
"Ok, now go unload my supplies, then get outta here; leave me in peace for awhile. Settle yourselves at your own place."
Neither said a word on the way back to their house. Ghost was in too much pain, and Steve was taking the car through it's paces, getting the feel of it. At home, Ghost got out and went to get a potion for his headache, then went to his bed. Steve grabbed a beer and strummed his guitar for awhile. They avoided each other. It had been a long and weird day.
Next installment coming soon!
Peace, Love, & Writing