MacMillan Wharf

MacMillan Wharf: Chapter Twenty-One

MacMillan Wharf: Chapter Twenty-One

by Richard Gifford

Angus checked his watch nervously. It was only 3:00 in the afternoon. He still had hours before he would meet with his accomplice. Still shaken from his close call with the local constabulary, Angus spent the rest of the afternoon in a small bar he’d found in the basement of a waterfront motel.

It was quiet when he first arrived. Angus was able to nurse a beer for nearly an hour in solitude while he collected his thoughts. Over the past half hour, a number of well tanned and muscular young men began to congregate around the bar and he noticed a DJ setting up his equipment in the corner. He could see that something was going to happen soon, and his beer glass was nearly empty. I’ll hide here in the dark, he thought. Angus walked across the room to the bar and patiently waited until he caught the bartender’s eye.

“No, really, I just came in for a drink. It’s pretty hot outside,” Angus stammered. “Another Guinness,” he said to the barman. As he waited for his refill, three bare-chested men sporting handlebar moustaches, leather riding chaps, and little else stepped up the bar beside him.

“Hi,” one of them said to Angus.

“Hello,” he replied curtly trying to neither make eye contact nor stare at the man’s pierced nipples.

“First time, right?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“This is your first tea dance, isn’t it? I can tell. You look nervous. I was nervous my first time, too.”

“No, really, I just came in for a drink. It’s pretty hot outside,” Angus stammered. What the hell is taking that bartender so long to get one lousy beer? he thought as the DJ started playing “We Are A Family.”

“Well, judging by the present company, I’d say it’s pretty hot in here, too.” The stranger smiled coyly.

Angus realized that he was being flirted with, something which had not happened to him in decades. He felt mildly flattered, but also annoyed at having drawn more attention to himself.

“Are you chatting me up?” Angus asked already knowing the answer.

“Chatting me up?” The stranger mocked his voice. “That’s so cute. So, what are you, English?”

“No, I’m Scottish.”

“Scottish, well, where’s your kilt? I’m just kidding. But seriously, is it true that you don’t wear anything under a kilt?”

“Yes,” Angus answered through gritted teeth.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing? Leave him alone.” The man’s friends shouted. “How I love a man in a skirt! Or at least I’d like to!”

“Here you go, sorry about the wait; we had to change the keg.” The bartender placed the beer in front of Angus. “That’ll be $4.25.” Angus handed him a five dollar bill.

“So, tell me Braveheart, are you here with anybody? Cause if you’re not…” he ran his hand up Angus’ thigh. Angus felt his blood pressure rising. He quickly brushed the man’s hand away. “It’s okay.” The stranger persisted while lightly tracing his finger along Angus’ muscular arm.

Angus responded in kind by placing his hand on the man’s chest, and then firmly grabbed hold of the gold hoop protruding through the left nipple. He then proceeded to rotate it 360 degrees while pushing him to the floor. The man was in too much pain to speak.

“Now listen mate, I’m not interested in you or your friends. I just want to enjoy my beer in peace. Understand?”

“Hey, what the hell are you doing? Leave him alone.” The man’s friends shouted.

Angus quickly assessed his situation. There were at least a dozen fit looking men staring at him with varying degrees of menace in their eyes. He was vastly outnumbered. This was not the way he envisioned his plans. He released his victim, put the beer down on the bar, and turned around to pick up his backpack.

He stood up in time to see the fist just before it made contact with his face, about an inch below his left eye. “You think you’re cute? Huh? What’s your problem?” Angus’s suitor was back on his feet and ready to lay another blow on him.

Angus’s head was still spinning from the punch. “I’ve got no problem with you. I just want to be left alone, that’s all.”

“Well, it’s a little late for that now, isn’t it?”

Angus felt powerful hands seize each of his arms as the man with the bruised nipple wound up for another punch. He hadn’t been in a bar fight for a long time, but he remembered the rules clearly: There were none. A slight smile washed over Angus’s face. The rush of adrenaline brought a flashback to the time when he left three Australian sailors with broken bones outside of a Bangkok massage parlor thirty years ago.

Angus’s instincts took over. He smashed his foot down on the instep of the man to his right and heard a satisfying crunch of metatarsal bones snapping. The man immediately dropped to the floor screaming in pain. With his free hand, Angus retrieved the knife in his pocket, snapped it open, and , in an instant spun the man to his left around.

Angus was now standing behind him, twisting his wrist into an arm lock with one hand while holding the blade to the side of the surprised man’s face. He slowly backed towards the door. Nobody in the bar was moved, except the bartender who was dialing a phone.

“I’m going to walk out that door, and nobody’s going to follow me. Understand? I don’t want any more trouble.”

Angus backed through the doorway, released his human shield, and ascended the steps up to the street level. He unlocked the blade and slipped the knife back into his pocket. He needed somewhere to go until he could move freely under the cover of darkness. Trying to walk up the street as inconspicuously as possible, Angus folded himself into a crowd of tourists and headed towards MacMillan Wharf.

Retracing his steps from earlier in the day, he reached the wharf in five minutes. As he walked along the pier, he saw a sign leaning against a small kiosk offering a four-hour sunset whale watch cruise. “What time does the next cruise leave?” he asked the attendant.

“Five minutes.”

Angus checked his watch. It was 3:55 p.m. He could be on the boat until 8, well after the sun set. “How much?”

“Twenty-two dollars.”

Angus pulled out his wallet and handed over the money.

“Here’s your ticket. Better get going, they’re ready to depart.”

“Thanks.” Angus took his ticket and clambered down the gangway. Anxiously, he waited in line as a deckhand ripped each ticket. He scanned the pier to see if any police or vigilantes had followed him. Seeing none, he stepped up onto the deck in time to hear a voice come over the loudspeaker. “Welcome aboard the Explorer, Provincetown’s premiere whale watch and research vessel. Our Captain, Billy Souza, says that as soon as everyone’s on board, we’ll be underway for a memorable sunset cruise.”

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