Divine Rebel by Tom Wallace

Author:Tom Wallace [Wallace, Tom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wings ePress, Inc.
Published: 2020-07-31T22:00:00+00:00

Seventeen

The Legion hall was extremely busy when Angel and I walked in. This came as a surprise to me. It was not yet one o’clock, yet vast quantities of alcohol were already being consumed. And make no mistake, no one was playing checkers, gin rummy, or throwing darts. They were here to drink.

The crowd consisted mainly of men, although four or five ladies were included among the early drinkers. Based on the ages of those on hand, it could safely be concluded that every American conflict from World War II through Iraq and Afghanistan was represented. Many of the men wore baseball caps that connected them to the war they fought in.

The same burly man who had been here on our previous visit was once again tending bar, although he had a different look about him—the Fu Manchu was missing. He had on a blue baseball cap with Navy Vietnam Veteran in yellow letters on the front. I doubted that I could ever be friends with the guy, but as a fellow vet, I should be able to summon a certain degree of respect for him.

He slapped a dishrag over his left shoulder when he saw us coming in his direction, turned his palms up, and shrugged, a shit-eating grin spreading across his recently shaved face.

“Thought we had reached an understanding that only active members drink here,” he said. The name on his shirt identified him as Chet. “And the last time I checked the roster, you ain’t on it.”

“Same answer as before—we’re not here to drink,” I replied.

“My point being, you have no reason to be here at all. So, why don’t you and Miss America do an about-face and march on out of here. If you leave voluntarily, it will save me the time and energy required to toss your ass out.”

“Here’s my counter offer. One vet to another vet, how about you sell us a soft drink? That’s only fair, isn’t it?”

“You served in the military? What…college ROTC for a semester?”

“Army, Twenty-fourth Infantry Division, first Gulf War, Operation Desert Storm. And I have the medals to prove it.”

“Well, I don’t hardly see how I can deny a war veteran a soft drink,” he said, his shit-eating grin back in place. He opened a cooler under the bar, came out with two cans of Coke, laid two coasters on the bar, and placed the soft drinks on the coasters. “Did you see actual combat, or were you one of those back-of-the-pack support guys?”

“Ask the Iraqi Republican Guard, if any of them are still around.” I took a drink of Coke. “So, does my military resume meet with your approval?”

An Army guy asking someone from the Navy for approval? How absurd is that?

“If it’s true, sure, I have no issues with it.” Chet grinned and shook his head. “You know, you’re even more unlucky than you are persistent.”

“You’re speaking in riddles, Chet. I don’t have a clue what that’s supposed to mean.”

“Rabbit practically lives in this place—hell, he could

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