Pee Bee

The paint on the inside of the shop was half finished. The solid beige was much more inviting than the mixture of colors it had been there for the last ten years.

I draped my arm over Tegan’s shoulder, and nodded toward the north wall. “Looks good, huh?”

“Looks great.”

The sound of Crip’s bike in the distance gave warning of his approach. “Look alive, Prospects. He’s coming around the corner.”

The two prospects who were assigned to painting duty splattered the paint onto the walls frantically.

Crip pulled into the shop and rolled to a stop beside Peyton’s Jeep. He took off his glasses, gazed at the wall, and then glared at me.

What?

He looked at the wall and shook his head.

With his eyes still fixed on the wall, he let go of his helmet, and before it hit the floor, he kicked it with the toe of his boot.

It slid twenty feet or so before rolling to stop.

Oh shit.

He folded his arms in front of his chest, inhaled a deep breath, and then looked at the north wall. “What color’s that?”

I shrugged. “Beige.”

“Not white?”

I shook my head. “Nope. Beige.”

He tilted his head back slightly. “Which one of you two fuck-bubbles picked out the paint?” he shouted.

Scratch pointed at Duckett. “He picked it out.”

“Both of you two dumb fucks come here,” Crip howled. “Move!”

Duckett hopped off his ladder, and Scratch laid his roller to the side. They both scrambled to where we were standing and looked at Crip no differently than kids who had been called to the principal’s office.

“You.” He pointed at Scratch’s chest. “Are on my shit-list for being a snitch. Never snitch out another man. You should have kept your fucking mouth shut.”

He pointed at Duckett. “And you are on my shit-list for picking out the wrong fucking color. What color did I say?”

Duckett lowered his head. “White.”

Crip nodded toward the painted wall. “And that’s beige?”

Duckett nodded.

“Is beige white?”

“No, Sir.”

“It sure as fuck isn’t,” Crip hissed. “I said I wanted white, and I want white. We’re not having a fucking kegger, you dumb fuck. This isn’t a club barbeque, and it’s not some home fucking makeover television show. It’s a god damned anniversary party. White and fucking gold. White and motherfucking gold. Go get some new god damned paint and repaint this entire fucking shop.”

They stood wide-eyed, and stared.

“Go!” Crip shouted.

The two men scattered like rats.

“I thought it looked good,” I said.

He gazed at the wall and shook his head. “Beige and gold would look like shit. No contrast. It’s got to be white.”

“If you say so.”

“Your parents have been married fifty fucking years, Peeb. I want this to be a special day for ‘em.”

I pulled Tegan close. “It will be.”

Crip looked at Peyton, and then at Tegan. “And you two are in charge of decorations. I’ve got a grand set aside in the safe for whatever you want, as long as it’s gold. Go to the Lobby Hobby or whatever it’s called in La Mesa, or wherever, and get a bunch of shit to spruce this place up.”

Tegan looked at Peyton and grinned. “I’ve got some ideas, but maybe we’ll go somewhere else.”

“I got ideas, too,” Peyton said.

“Follow me,” Crip said.

They followed him to the safe, and he gave them the money. Peyton walked to the Jeep, and Tegan came and gave me a kiss.

“See you in a few,” she said.

I kissed her again. “Okay.”

“Well, aren’t you two just fucking cute?” Crip said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

Tegan stepped behind him and rolled her eyes.

Crip’s sixth sense kicked in. He didn’t even turn around. “Stop making fucking faces, and go get decorations, Crash.”

She wiped the silly look from her face and got in the Jeep.

“I have no idea why,” he said. “but I like that girl.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Hard to fucking hide it,” he said. “With you two always shoving your tongues down each other’s throats.”

I shrugged. “If it works, it works.”

“She’s not afraid to be herself, that’s for sure.”

“I know,” I said. “She’s got spunk.”

“I thought Peyton was an ornery little bitch, but Crash might have her beat.”

“Wanna hear a story?” I asked.

“Not particularly,” he said dryly. “But I’ve got a few spare minutes. What’s up?”

I considered telling him, hesitated, and thought of changing the story I was going to tell to a different story. After going back and forth for a minute, I decided to tell him what I intended to.

“On the first day? The day she showed up to watch pop? I about shit. She looked at me and her eyes went bug-eyed, and I looked at her and said where’s my fuckin’ money? She had no idea he was my pop, and I had no idea she was gonna be the nurse. So, anyway. She’s standing there tellin’ me how bad she needs the job, and I said get off my porch, bitch.”

“Good way to a girl’s heart, right there.” He chuckled. “Hell, Peeb, even I know not to do that.”

“Wait, it gets better.”

“I’m listening,” he said.

“So, the instant the word bitch comes out of my mouth, and I hear this screech. Sounds like an eagle’s coming in for a landing. I look up, thinking some wild animal is in the yard, and then it hits me. Like a fuckin’ lightning bolt.”

“What was it?”

“Her foot. Caught me in the shin. Doubled me over, but that ain’t all.”

His eyes went wide and he grinned. “She kicked you?”

I nodded. “And then, she squealed again, and kicked me in the knee. And then, another loud yelp, and, the other knee. And then--”

“You let that little shit kick you three times? Idda picked her up and tossed her in the yard.”

“Didn’t see even one of ‘em coming. That’s the funny part. She’s quick. Been practicing karate since she was six. She’s a tough little fucker. Anyway, there’s more. So, I’m all bent over and out of breath, and feel like I been in a car wreck--”

“She get your bad knee?”

“She sure did. Hard. But, anyway, I’m about to try and stand up straight, and she knees me in the nuts.”

He winced. “Oh god damn. Seriously?”

“Yep. And, that was it. I was done.”

“That little shit kicked your big ass?”

“She sure did.”

He let out a laugh. “That’s funnier than shit.”

“Wait. I ain’t done yet.”

“There’s more?”

“Just a little,” I said. “Anyway, I tell her she can have the job, ‘cause as far as I’m concerned, she’s earned my respect. At the time, I know I ain’t got to like her, but she’s earned my respect. So, I tell her there’s one condition. She can’t tell my pop.”

“Yeah, Bradley would have your ass if he knew that.”

“Well, we go in the house, and Pop says what the fuck did you do, hire Super Girl? And I said what? And he said I saw her kick your ass. And she turns to him, looks him in the eye, and says I ain’t got any idea of what you’re talking about.”

“I’ll be damned.” He gazed down at the floor. “She is a tight-lipped little fucker, isn’t she?”

It wasn’t much, but I knew he’d like that about her. It was the entire reason I wanted to tell him the story.

Proudly, I nodded. “Yep.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked her.” He looked up. “Now I know why.”

“’Cause you can trust her?”

“Nope. Because other than me, she’s the only one I know who can kick your ass, Peeb.” He slapped me on the shoulder. “And that makes her special in my eyes.”

Well, she’s special in mine, too.

But for different reasons.