Chapter 12: La Vie en Lunettes Roses
With the first run over and cash in their pockets, the guys were eager to make more, the desire to be up and running as a club, becoming a common focus. The guys asked Chico how Marietta was doing and his big smile came out at her mention. He said she was doing much better and owed it to them and the girls, for all of their support and kindness to her. The bruises would go away, just like the swelling did, Marlene keeping an eye on her every day was helping too. Keith was asked how his leg was coming along and he stood up and bore his weight on it. He said the bone ached like shite all the time, but the gash had mended well and the bruising was just an ugly yellow and brown now. They were sitting, talking over some ideas, when the door opened and Wally walked in, shouting his arrival back. The guys welcomed him in and then noticed the other guy he brought with him.
"Guys, this is Uncle Tom, the guy I was telling you about. Say hi and then listen to what we have to tell you."
Tom came forward and let the club have a look at him, as he went and shook everyone's hand. They sized him up physically and found nothing impressive about him that way and waited for word of what would convince them, he was worthy of acceptance. Lenny shot out the obvious question.
"Why do they call you Uncle, Tom?"
Tom laughed out loud at hearing the question, one that seemed to be asked constantly of him.
"I guess it's because I'm like everyone's uncle, the Dutch Uncle some call it, you know what I mean? They come to me for everything they need and I get it for them. Not sure how it all started, but it seemed to stick with me ever since."
The tall, thin man with shaggy, brown hair smiled, showing several teeth missing from his mouth. With introductions done, Wally got their attention again and told them of their news.
"Guys, check this out. Tom and I spotted some great shit for the clubhouse, over in Stockton. There's a place that closed down a little while ago and they're going to gut it. Right now, there's a bar and a couple of pool tables inside that are ours for the taking. We have to get there real soon, or they're gone, 'cause someone else will grab them. That's one thing, the next thing is, we found a sweet, '62 GMC cab and chassis with dual axles, sitting in this guy's yard. I'll check with Jake if he likes that kind of truck, but the guy only wants two hundred and fifty bucks for it. Oh, Oh, check this out. The guy has an old Harley sitting around back that Tom is looking at. It needs some work, but I said you guys would be able to get it running right for him."
"Sure, no problem, as long as it isn't seized. Sounds like you guys have been busy. Nice going Uncle Tom."
JT raised his beer can to him in salute, the others joining in and offering up a small cheer.
"Thanks JT. Hey, almost forgot. Wally said you guys were needing more sheet goods to finish the walls, right?"
"Yeah, we ran out of drywall in the bedrooms."
"Would panelling work for you guys?"
"What kind of panelling?"
"Wood panelling, the thin shit that looks like wood planks stuck together."
JT looked at Tom and then the others, expressing with his face he had no problems with that and saw none of the others did either.
"That'll work. How much can you get?"
"How much do you need?"
JT seemed surprised, but realized Wally had said he could get pretty well anything they wanted and always came through.
"Off hand, enough to go around this entire place and the interior walls we make as well."
Tom looked around and started guessing at how many sheets it would take to complete the job of finishing all the walls.
"Gonna take a shitload of panels to do it, maybe three or four skids of them, at least."
"Guess that's a bit much to ask for, is it?"
Tom laughed, Wally joining in, sharing a common joke between them.
"I never said that, JT. I can get you your panels. I know a place in the south end of Stockton, that makes that shit. I got a truck big enough to haul it all in one shot, too. Can't be making trips back and forth, if you know what I mean?"
"Yeah, I got you. What kind of truck do you have, to pull it off?"
"A good flatbed, a five ton. That shit ain't light, when it's on skids. Anyone know how to drive a forklift, by the way?"
Lenny held his hand up to him.
"I got that covered. I drive one all day at the job site."
"Great. Maybe we should go and check it out and see what kind of plan we can come up with."
"Good idea, Tom. Leave nothing to chance. We've come close to getting busted a couple of times and fluked our way out of trouble."
The guys seemed to like Tom and his attitude towards them and the club. They could see how he could be an asset to them, supplying them with virtually anything they asked for. JT sensed the common like of him and called for a vote of membership. A unanimous yes was given and beers were opened and more joints were rolled in his honour. The time flew by, until Wally decided they had better make their way down to south Stockton and scope out the site for the panelling, then maybe drive by the truck, Tom mentioned about, in the north end.
JT and Lenny went with Wally and Tom, in Wally's Chevy, while the others hung out by the bikes and talked shop about them. The drive to Stockton was filled with questions for Tom and who he was. Not much more than a sketchy childhood and a life of being on the road, was mostly all they could get out of him. He had dodged the draft two years back and had been on the run ever since. He had a place of his own at one time, but abandoned it to avoid prison time and losing it all anyway. His training as a locksmith had come in useful on many occasions, knowing how to pick locks and open safes. JT and the other vets, could understand Tom's reluctance to go over there, having served themselves and knew what he would have endured, had he gone.
His business was good when he was free, but now he had to keep moving around and staying at places that no one knew of, leaving little, or nothing of a trail behind him. He now made it his life's work, to know how to steal just about anything, making his talents a highly valuable commodity to have. He knew how to by-pass alarms, hijack trucks, hot wire a vehicle, or any other means of acquiring what he needed to get. What made Tom laugh, was his confession that for all he stole, he had very little to show for it. Possessions became hard to carry around with him, so he stuck with only what he needed, a suitcase of clothes and a couple boxes of memories he couldn't part with.
The commercial area in south Stockton, just off 99, had street after street of businesses, in all manner of types. Wally kept passing the streets, until he came to the second last one and turned left. He drove a couple of blocks and slowed, as they passed the yard that held all the panelling. Lenny spotted the yard forklift truck and knew he could drive it. Tom said he could wire it to run in seconds for him and Wally said he could get his hands on some bolt cutters, to cut the links in the fence. The road after this one went along the back of the lot and held the best means of entry and exit for them. Stacks of skids containing the panelling, were four high, making it necessary for the forklift to pick it up and load it.
Tom pointed across the street at the metal supply company and the five ton flat bed. Tom could have it around the back of the yard, by the time Lenny had the first skids ready. They could only guess at the number of sheets per skid, but figured four would cover everything they had to.
