by Christopher Hivner

"Yes it is." John reached down and smoothed out the ancient denim fabric of his worn-thin jacket. Bought when he was 19 at the county fair, it miraculously was still holding together after fourteen years. He knew what had attracted his cell mate was the artwork that covered the material. Done with own hands, it was a mosaic of the bands he listened to in his youth; Metallica, Megadeth, Guns n' Roses, and about a dozen others. The jacket had drawn plenty of attention over the years and more than one offer in the hundreds of dollars. He had a feeling he was going to receive an offer tonight much lower than that.

"And before you ask," John continued, "it's not for sale."

"Everything's for sale at the right price."

"Nope."

"You haven't even heard my offer yet."

John just smiled.

"Do you know what I'm in here for?" the man asked. "Tonight at Smokin' Jack's bar I beat the crap out of two guys for spilling my beer. Imagine what I'm going to do to you if you don't give me that jacket."

"Imagine how much I don't care."

The man stood up. John didn't flinch. Surprisingly fast for his size, the man was on top of John in three steps, his softball-sized fist aimed at his face. In one fluid motion, John slid to his left and stood, blocking the blow with his shoulder, grabbing the man by the neck and shoving his head into the wall behind him. The man slumped to the floor, knocked out.

John rotated his shoulder a few times to work out the knot forming in the muscles. Then he bent down and pulled the man's pants off. He was just shoving them through the bars when the desk sergeant walked up to the cell doors. Slumped-shouldered and looking like he should have retired a few years earlier, the officer looked at the pants on the floor, then up at John and finally at the unconscious prisoner. Rolling his eyes, he looked back at John.

"Are you Barber or is it Sleepy McJones over there?"

"I'm Barber," John said sweetly.

"You've been bailed out. For now."

*****

Ruby didn't wait for Henley to get there. She sat Johnny down on a kitchen chair and stalked back and forth in front of him like a lioness. Her makeup was running down her face from crying, her bushy head of auburn hair bounced off her shoulders as she paced.

"What the Hell were you thinking?" she finally yelled in her son's direction, not actually looking at him.

"Mom . . ."

"I mean did you think at all? Did you?"

"I don't know."

"I'm too tired for this crap, Johnny. I work too hard to come home to phone calls like the one I got today."

"I want to talk to Dad." Ruby stopped pacing and looked at John with an anger in her eyes he had never seen. Then she scared him worse by smiling broadly and laughing.

"You want to talk to your father. Well, aren't we lucky that he got out of jail two weeks ago so he can come give you some good fatherly advice, like how to get away with it next time."

"Mom . . ."

"Oh, that's right, he got caught too." Ruby walked up and put her hands on Johnny's shoulders. "Is this really the man you want to emulate? Is this what I have to look forward to the rest of my life?"

"I just want to talk to him." Ruby and John both turned when they heard the front door open.

"Hello?" Ruby shivered at hearing Henley's voice in her home again.

"In the kitchen," she finally said, leaning her very weary body against the counter. Henley walked in looking about twenty pounds thinner than when he went into jail. He had his hair slicked back the way he used to wear it when he was young. He must have a new girlfriend already, Ruby thought to herself.

"Hey," he said, nodding at his ex-wife. "What happened?"

"Our son and two of his friends tried to steal CDs from a store at the mall. He has to pay a fine of six hundred dollars, which I don't have. And I'm not sure he thinks what he did was wrong and that would be because of you."

Henley was about to protest but thought better of it. "John, is all this true?"

"The store was crowded, and we didn't think anyone was looking, so we each picked up a CD and tried to walk out."

"Now I know your mom has taught you stealing is wrong, so why did you do it?"

"We thought we could get away with it. You told me that's why you did it." Henley glanced at Ruby sheepishly.

"Well, Johnny," Henley squirmed around the kitchen as he talked. "I was also drunk when I took those tools out of my boss's truck. And I was probably still hung over when I told you why."

"It was only a CD."

"Mine was only wrenches and a drill, but they still sent me to county for a month and half, and I lost my job." Henley looked at his watch. "So, are you getting why this was wrong?"

"Yeah."

"Really? Because you're young enough this time you got away with a fine, but a second offense will get worse."

"I know. It's just, they had so many CDs, how could they miss a couple?"

"Johnny!" Ruby yelled.

"You said the same thing about your boss, Dad. He had so many tools, he wasn't going to miss a few."

"Oh my God," Ruby turned away.

"John, for God's sake, I went to jail. Are you getting that? I wasn't on vacation the last couple of weeks. I was in a cell."

"Then why did you do it?"

"I was drunk, John. And I was pissed off at my boss and every other guy I see driving around in a brand new forty thousand dollar pick-up truck. I ended up doing something stupid, and I paid for it." Henley glanced at his watch again.

"Listen, I'm broke right now," Henley said to Ruby. "But Nick Beard owes me money. I'll see what I can get from him to pay the fine."

"Dad?"