Until then, I really didn’t know much about my uncle, other than he was the president of some motorcycle club. I didn't know why we never spent time with him or his family, but I’d gotten the impression a long time ago that it had something to do with my mother. A look of disgust would cross her face whenever my dad mentioned his brother’s name or his club, and eventually, he just stopped talking about him altogether. It was obvious to all of us she didn’t care for him or what he represented, but at the time, she was in no position to turn down his offer to help. I never did understand her distaste for him. I liked Saul from the start. I could see my father when I looked into his eyes or heard his voice, reminding me of that secure feeling I had whenever my dad was around. I felt a pull to my uncle, and each time he’d come by the house, I’d stare out the window and watch as he pulled up on his motorcycle. There was a mystery to him that intrigued me, making me want to know more about his life and his club that existed on the outside of town.
Years passed, and even though I knew my mother wouldn’t approve, I asked my uncle if he could help me find a more substantial job, thinking the money would help out with the bills. I’d heard him talking about a house renovation the club was doing for one of their members, and since I was good with my hands, I hoped he’d be able to find a place for me. When I brought it up to Uncle Saul, I figured he would say no because of my age, but I knew I had my father’s build which made me look older than I really was, so I took a chance. At first he hesitated, but after I explained it would really help us out and promised to keep up my grades up at school, he finally agreed. It didn’t take me long to realize the job I so desperately wanted wasn’t exactly what I thought it would be. Since I was much younger than any of the club members, they had me doing all the grunt work that they didn’t want to do themselves. I’d never worked harder in my life, but I liked being there, working with all of those men my uncle called his brothers, and soon began to feel like I was a part of something more than just a work crew. I felt like I belonged, especially when they’d let me tag along on some of their rides to blow off steam after work. Being on a bike with them was all that I thought it would be and more. The only thing better would have been having one of my own.
I’d been working with them for almost six months—we had finished one brother’s house and had moved on to the next—when my cousin, Derek, showed up on the work site, and as soon as he stepped out of his truck, it was clear to us all he was on a war path. At first glance, he reminded me a lot of Uncle Saul with his tall, thick build and coal-black hair, but unlike his father, his greenish-blue eyes showed no warmth behind them. I watched as he stormed over to Doc with his fists clenched and a scowl on his face, all the while grumbling curses under his breath. Doc wasn’t the kind of man who took shit from anyone, especially some angry kid. He was a retired military medic, and he expected respect, and he always received from his crew. After a brief one-sided argument, Derek’s face flashed red with anger. While grumbling under his breath, he grabbed one of the tool belts off of the table and walked over to me. He gave me a quick grunt and chin lift, then immediately got to work. It was almost an hour later before he ever actually spoke to me.
“You actually wanted to work here with these fuckers?” he asked with a frustrated look.
“Yeah. Guess I did,” I confessed.
“You got a screw loose or something?” he huffed. He didn’t wait for me to answer before he said, “Pop’s all pissed ‘cause I got pulled over for speeding last night. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if that nosy ass cop hadn’t gone digging in the back of my truck and found the cooler of beer and my bag of pot. He blew a gasket when he had to bail me out of jail again. Told me I had to work out here as my fucking punishment, but the old man’s got another thing coming if he thinks I’m going do this shit for free,” he complained.
“That’s a tough break,” I responded, not really knowing what to say.
“Ah, hell. This isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last,” he laughed. I looked over at him, noticing the mischievous smirk that spread across his face. There was something about that look that set me on edge, but I quickly forgot about it when he said, “You should come out with me and the guys tomorrow night. Some of us are heading over to Mindy’s party after the football game.”