Page 61 of Final Ride

Dad ordered a pitcher of Miller as soon as we sat down and while we waited for the beer, he laid the news on us.

“Tammy came out of the coma today, boys. The doctors at the trauma unit are running tests on her.”

“How bad is she hurt this time, Dad?” I asked. “How come she was floating in a river anyway?”

“I’ve got none of those answers for you, son. I had Detective Carmichael send copies of his reports to Billy. He’ll have the same information the police have, and he can pass it on to us.”

“Do you think she was trying to kill somebody else?” asked Virge.

“No way of knowing, son. The tests will show if she’s in her right mind or not. They may send her back to the same hospital for another round.”

“Pick a different place,” snapped Virge. “They let her out too soon from that last hospital. I wouldn’t trust those fuckers again.”

“Good point,” said Travis.

The server brought our beer and did a lot of staring at Travis while he read the menu and tried to decide what he wanted to eat.

“My name is Bonnie, and I’ll be your server.”

“Thanks, Bonnie,” said Travis. “How are your steaks?”

“Prime Angus cuts, grilled to perfection. Add mushrooms or fried onions or gravy. Customize your steak exactly the way you want it.”

“Sounds good,” said Travis. “I’ll have the ten-ounce ribeye, medium rare, with mushrooms and onions. Hold the gravy.”

“That comes with mashed or home fries, carrots and a garden salad.”

“Home fries,” said Travis. “What do you boys want?”

“I’ll have the same with mashed,” said Virge. “Save me burning out any of my brain cells.”

I nodded at the server. “Make it three. No mushrooms for me.”

She smiled. “Got it. Let me put your order in and I’ll bring you another pitcher of Miller.”

“Thanks, Bonnie,” hollered Virgil.

“Slow down, Virge,” said Travis. “I’m not carrying your drunk ass back to the hotel.”

“No worries there, Dad. I can handle myself.”

Right after we finished eating, Virge headed for the men’s room.

He didn’t come back right away and then we heard a ruckus at the back of the restaurant.

“Go get him, Harlan, and he’d better not be fighting again.”

“Aw, Jeeze.” I got to Virge in time to see a big biker slam him into the door of the men’s room and knock the wind out of him.

With a loud groan, Virge slumped to the floor in a breathless heap.

“I’ll take my brother.”

“Yeah, get him out of my face unless you want some of the same.”

I tossed Virge over my shoulder and went out the emergency door to the parking lot. Dad caught up after he paid the bill, and I had to carry Virge all the way back to the Super Eight.

Maynooth. Northern Ontario.

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