Terrible Friend

11

Albert sped quickly through town. Making the easily thirty-five minute drive in just under fifteen. He pulled into a parking spot directly in front of the gallery and spied Beverly standing at the glass desk with a customer.

He went inside and stood patiently for a moment, waiting for Beverly to acknowledge his presence and hurry this other guy along. When she didn't, he cleared his throat. The sound echoed through the gallery. It was an obnoxious sound when it reached his own ears the third time.

Beverly looked over the man's shoulder and shot Albert an angry glare. He knew right then that talking to her was going to be as much fun as taking a long leisurely stroll on shards of glass. He then thought maybe taking that stroll might be more pleasant.

When she still did not acknowledge him, he started waving his arms and gesturing to get her attention so he could mouth to her why he was there.

She looked up at him and stifled a chuckle. His movements, as graceful as they were, were clumsy and when she finally did see him, he was trying to keep a sculpture and a bust with a necklace on it from toppling over. She laughed out loud.

When he heard her laugh, he turned his attention back to her. He started gesturing that he had a guy tied up in the truck and needed to talk to her. Now!

When he noticed the customer was also looking at him, he froze. He had gotten as far as gesturing that there was a man by holding his hand was near his crotch like he was holding his penis in his hand to specify male. His other hand was pointing to his truck.

Beverly cracked up. Albert slowly dropped his arms to his sides and shoved his hands in his pockets. His face turned a deep shade of red as Beverly leaned back against the wall and cackled.

The customer shook his head and turned back toward Beverly. She tried to get a hold of herself. She apologized to the man standing in front of her. He leaned in and whispered something to her. She lost it again.

She cackled and howled as she nodded in agreement to whatever it was that the man had said. The man turned toward the door, nodded at Albert and then shook his head has he pushed through the glass door and out of sight to the right.

Albert stomped over to the glass desk and waited for Beverly to pull herself together. When her laughter did not stop right away. He cleared his throat again and then spoke. "So, I have one of them in the back of the truck. What do we do with him?"

Beverly's eyes went wide as she started to choke. She pounded on her chest with a last laugh. "You what?" She stood there staring at him, waiting to hear the rest of the story.

"He broke into my house just a little bit ago and attacked me. So I clubbed him with a bat and tied him up. Jax said we should call you. I don't have your number so I threw him in the back of my truck and came straight here."

Beverly's jaw was on the floor. "Why did you bring him here?"

"Where do you suggest I should have taken him? To Kovach? I was going to, but Jax insisted I bring him here instead. So what now?"

"Jax? What does he think I'm supposed to do with him?"

"I don't know. Interrogate him I guess. I tried but wasn't able to get much more than the holy 7th horseman was coming and he was going to eat my soul."

"The Holy 7th Horseman?" Dongorul is far from holy." She inhaled a deep breath and shugged then rotated her shoulders. "Let's get him secured in the back room before he wakes up I guess." She came from behind the desk and beat Albert to the glass door.

Albert threw up the lid of his camper and dropped the tailgate. He grabbed the now struggling man by his ankles and slid him toward him. Not at all cautious of the dirt and debris that was surely cutting and scratching the man in the process. "Am I going to have to hit you again?"

The man stopped struggling and shook his head. Albert grabbed higher on the man's legs and pulled him to a standing position against the tailgate. He bent and placed his head and shoulders into the man's midsection and hoisted him up over his shoulder.

A grunt escaped the man's nose as his weight settled into Albert's shoulder. He carried him inside, through the gallery, and stopped at the door of the storage room.

Beverly locked the glass doors and turned the sign to closed. She rushed across the gallery and opened the door. The room was dark. She turned on the light and stepped into the room. Albert stepped into the room and they both took a look around. When they were certain that the room was empty aside from them, she rushed to the back of the room and grabbed a stool. She carried it over and set it down in front of Albert.

Albert gently lowered the man to his feet and guided him as he sat down on the stool. He held on to him as he adjusted himself and was stably seated. He reached up and pulled the hood down, exposing the bald and now pretty badly disfigured head. The man squinted as the bright lights of the room glared around him.

"You don't get out much do you?" A jab at the pale color of his skin.

The man didn't respond. He sat there, squinting as the bright light of the room bounced off the walls. He looked around the room. Not seeing anything of real use that could get him out of this, he inhaled and exhaled slowly and hung his head.