Darla's Dilemma

And I left her crying and walked back into the bar and sat back down with Danny, Meg and Diana. I could see Darla walk back into the bar and take her seat next to Randy. Randy could see she was obviously upset and was talking to her. Darla just shook her head several times and took a drink of her soda. Randy looked over at me with a pissed off look on his face. I just shook my head once and mouthed the word "DON'T".

**********

A couple months had passed by and I felt no improvement in my personal situation. I just didn't have the desire or the energy to jump back into the quest for female companionship and the elusive chase for my one-and-only soul mate. I thought I had such a thing with Darla and we all know how well that turned out.

Part of the problem was that people always felt the need to let me know how Randy, Darla and the kids were doing - regardless of whether I asked or not. When she first left me, some of Darla's friends and family felt it necessary to let me know through casual conversation that she and the kids were doing well and they were as happy a family as they had ever been.

But after a while, things seemed to taper off. Even Meg and Diana, who had become some of Darla's closest friends, started dropping hints that things might not have been what they seemed with Darla and Randy. I kept stoic about it and never pressed for further information, despite knowing that both Meg and Diana were itching to tell me more.

It was around the first of July that year when Danny suggested heading into Red River Falls and grabbing some dinner and a few beers at The End Zone, which is a very popular sports bar and grill. Getting away from Royal Fork sounded like a good idea. We initially invited Meg, Diana and their husbands to go along with but the four of them declined. So it was just me and Danny on a bro date, I guess.

We got there around five o'clock that evening and the place was just starting to fill up. It was only an hour until the Twins and the Brewers were set to play an interleague game and there were plenty of TVs at The End Zone to catch the action. I ordered a massive double-decker guacamole burger and Danny ordered a Cowboy Griller, which was a sandwich of one beef patty, a pork patty and loads of bacon, onions, lettuce, tomato and a generous amount of jalapenos. Danny would need the beer to put out the fire in his mouth later.

We had been there for about an hour or so and Ricky Nolasco had just fanned his first two batters before giving up a solo home run to the Brewers' catcher, Jonathan Lucroy. And just like that, the good guys were down 1-0. I figured that was going to be the worst of the night. But I was wrong. I was so very, very wrong.

"Aw, shit," Danny said.

"What's up, bro?" I asked, turning from the big screen TV above the bar.

"Look what the fucking cat just dragged in," he said.

I looked towards the main entrance. Walking in was none other than Randy Jones and four of his friends. Randy immediately saw Danny and me, said something to his friends and started walking over to the bar where we were seated.

"Danny... Daulton," he said. "How's everybody doing tonight?" he asked with a completely fake air of congeniality.

"Do you really give a shit, Randy? Or are you just making polite conversation to help pass what I think we can all agree is a really fucking awkward situation?"

"Jesus, Daulton," Danny whispered, trying to calm me down. "Dial it down a notch, okay?"

"Yeah, Daulton. I'm just trying to be friendly here."

"Were you just trying to be friendly when you came back and stole Darla and the kids back from me?"

"Hey, Daulton," he said, getting pissed, "I'll have you know that that was MY wife you were with for seven months. The least you could have done was to wait until the divorce was final."

"Yeah? How many times did you fuck Darla in my house, huh? Or did you at least have the decency to do it on my deck outside? After all, that's where I found all your damned cigarette butts."

"Okay, okay," Randy said, backing off. "Clearly I've struck a nerve with you by interrupting your guy date with Danny here. So I'll just go back to my friends and leave you two love birds all alone."

"Watch it, Randy," Danny said, irritated. "I'll keep Daulton from ripping your throat out but you and I ain't exactly friends and you sure as hell don't want me for an enemy, either."

Randy had a cocky grin on his face as Danny stared him away from our seats. Finally, he was seated with his friends on the far side of the restaurant a good 60 feet or more away.

"Shit, Danny," I said, regretting the whole incident. "I'm sorry, dude. Maybe we should just pack it in and head home, huh?"

"Hell no! We came here to have a few laughs, eat some good food and drink some great beer and watch the Twins lose with dignity. If we get up and leave now that asshole wins, Daulton."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. We should be good to drive with another round, right?"

"Sounds good to me!"

We sat there watching the ballgame for a while when we noticed one of the waitresses, who all dressed like bikini model versions of referees, brought out a large tray full of tall beers. She ended up at Randy's table and the beers were passed out to each of the men.

"Boy, I've waited a long time for this! She sure is gonna taste good," I could hear Randy say.

"Uh-oh," I said, nudging Danny. "Looks like old Randy's about to fall off the wagon."

"Jeez, Daulton," he started. "Would you just forget about - " Danny couldn't finish the words as he saw Randy take a swig of his tall pilsner of beer. "Oh, shit. That sure as hell doesn't look like non-alcoholic beer."

I couldn't help but stare at them as they all downed their first round of beer quickly, which was followed by another round shortly thereafter. They kept up the pace for much of the time while we were there. Finally, about 9 pm, the Twins had lost by a score of 7 to 2 to the Brewers. I continuously threw glances over at Randy and his friends during much of the time. At one point, Randy even saw me and raised his glass to me in a mock toast while all of his friends laughed at the 'cuckold who wasn't'.

We were just getting ready to settle up our tab for the night. Danny and I had each had a total of three beers along with our meals during the nearly five hours we had been at The End Zone. It was almost ten o'clock and we had just settled our tabs and were getting ready to head for the door. I felt a tapping on my shoulder and turned around to find myself staring down at Randy Jones.

"Hey, Daulton," he slurred. I guess that confirmed whether the beer was NA or not. "I jis wanted to tell ya that there'sh no hard feelings, okay?"

"Back off, Randy. You're drunk," Danny warned.

"I ain't that fuckin' bad," he whined.

"Tell me something, Randy," I said. "Just exactly how far did you have to go when you fell off the wagon. Did it hurt?"

"Oh, I get it," Randy drawled. "You're still pissed about Donna, right?" Randy continued to follow us out of the restaurant, with his equally inebriated friends in tow. "You wanna know the real reason why Darla came crawling back to me, Daulton? It's because she loves my cock, dude. She can't get enough of it. Maybe I'm not as tall as you and Danny, but I got a fuckin' SLEDGEHAMMER in my pants!" he yelled. His buddies just continued laughing at us. "By the way, I wanna tell you that I appreciate the fact that you don't have as big of a cock as me. Darla's pussy was just as tight as I remember. Did you know that both our kids were born by c-section? It's true. The only thing that's ever reamed out that pussy was my own dick!"

I couldn't take much more. And Danny knew it. "Daulton, just calm down. He's just trying to get under your skin, okay?"

"Yeah, well he's almost there," I said as we got to my Taurus. Just then, Randy made the critical mistake of putting his hand on my shoulder and spinning me around.

"Hey, dude," he slurred. "It's pretty fuckin' rude to walk away when I'm talkin' to ya."

"All of you guys back off right now!" Danny warned. "I'm a Mason County Deputy Sheriff and I will have all of you arrested for public intox if you don't turn around and walk back into the bar!"

"I ain't afraid of no dip-shit cop," one of Randy's friends challenged.

"Yeah, what the fuck, Daulton? You need your buddy for protection?" Randy jeered. Then Randy proceeded to reach forward with both hands and violently shove me into the side of my own car hard enough to leave a dent where my left hip slammed into it.

Without thinking, I went on auto pilot. I immediately threw an uppercut haymaker and caught Randy Jones right on the underside of his chin, causing his head to be thrown back wildly as he collapsed on the parking lot pavement and struck the back of his head hard. He was out cold before he hit the ground.

"Aw, shit, Daulton!" Danny yelled as two of Randy's friends made a move towards him. Danny initially disabled the first attacker by utilizing a wicked pressure-point hold on the guy's wrist and forearm and brought him to his knees. But Danny quickly realized that simply neutralizing them wasn't going to work as we had three more guys to deal with. Danny immediately applied an insane amount of pressure to get his opponent to shriek and then kicked him in the chest, knocking him back on the ground. The bad guy wasn't out of the fight but Danny had given him plenty to think about.

"Come on, asshole!" I yelled to one of the other guys. That got his attention and I immediately brought my hands near my face in a defensive/offensive position. I made a few juke-type moves as he closed in, with another of Randy's buddies close behind. Just as I feigned that I was about to strike the guy in the head I lunged forward with as much force as I could and kicked the guy in the crotch as hard as possible. In his drunken state, he was too slow to react to my fake attack to the head and couldn't defend his balls. He let out a blood curdling scream as he, too, collapsed onto the pavement.

The guy standing behind him was shocked by what had happened. I lunged forward towards him, keeping the momentum of my attack going. My right hand was still hurting from the first punch I gave to Randy and I opted to throw a vicious elbow right into the left side of his face. I could immediately feel his jaw give way as he, too, hit the pavement.

I looked over towards Danny and he had obviously had his way with the two clowns he had been dealing with. Fortunately for us, all five of the men were way over the limit and weren't nearly coordinated enough to mount a serious fight. But one of the men Danny had been fighting was slowly backing away from Danny. He reached behind his back and clumsily fished out a fairly large buck knife.

Immediately, Danny's training kicked in and he quickly drew his concealed Springfield XD .45 from inside his waist. It suddenly became clear to me why Danny always wore shirts that were extra long in the waist and never tucked them in.

"Mason County Deputy Sheriff!! Drop the weapon!! Drop it now!!"

Randy's buddy immediately got a terrified look in his eyes. Even in his drunken haze, he was smart enough to throw the big knife to his side. I immediately looked to my right and could see the guy that I had kicked in the nuts moments earlier was now getting to his feet. He gave me an evil stare and appeared to be getting ready to make a bum rush towards me. I cut off his attack by sprinting the short distance to him and threw my right knee into the side of his face as he was struggling to get to his feet. My knee made good contact with his left ear and jaw and he flopped back to the ground completely unconscious.

Danny was yelling at me but, in my rage, I couldn't hear a word he was saying. I immediately looked back towards Randy Jones who was now semi-conscious and struggling to get back to his feet. Randy got to his knees, shouted something completely unintelligible to me and attempted to reach out and grab me.

I put every last ounce of my body weight into it and threw the most pulverizing overhand right cross that I could - and made exceptionally good contact with the bridge of his nose. The blood immediately started gushing out as my punch sent Randy flying backwards again onto the pavement. I also felt an immediate and excruciatingly sharp pain in my right hand and knew that I had broken at least one bone in my right hand. It was at that point, when I knew that all five of the men had been neutralized, that Danny's voice finally became intelligible again through the fog of my own rage.

"Daulton!! For God's sake, stop!! It's over!! If you keep this going, we're both going to go to jail and lose our fucking jobs!!"

I stopped in my tracks and looked around. Danny still had his weapon drawn and was keeping it on the man who previously had the knife. Four men were lying on the pavement and we were starting to draw a crowd of onlookers and I could hear the sounds of approaching sirens. The entire fight had lasted barely over a minute from the first moment Randy had shoved me into my car. In the light of the overhead parking lot lights, I could see a piece of red mass lying on the pavement along with a couple of white specks that I knew had to be teeth. As for the reddish mass of flesh, I would find out later that I had inadvertently caused Randy to bite off the tip of his own tongue with my first punch.

Soon, the first black-and-white squad car from the Red River Falls Police Department had pulled into the lot and made an abrupt stop. The officer got out of his car and immediately drew his own firearm and pointed it directly at Danny, who still had his gun drawn on the guy with the knife.

"Police officer! Drop the weapon! Drop it now!" the cop shouted.

"Mason County Sheriff Deputy," Danny answered, showing the officer his wallet badge with his left hand and keeping his gun aimed at the dude who had the knife. "This man drew a knife on me and my friend a minute ago. He threw it over there," he gestured. "You just about ran over it with your right front tire. I'm going to disarm the weapon now and place it on the pavement."

The nervous young officer watched as Danny did so and then visibly relaxed. Still, he keyed his lapel microphone and radioed for backup that he had a 10-10, or fight, in progress. Within two minutes three more police cars showed up, including one belonging to one of the police captains, Pete Sturgeon. Danny was none too happy to see Sturgeon, for whatever reason. He never told me why but it was clear he didn't care for the man.

I was mortified when two ambulances from the Red River Falls Fire Department showed up and began attending to the "wounded". I had really done a number on Randy Jones and his face, as well as his friend, Wade Ryan, who was the guy I knee'd in the face a while ago. When a friend and co-worker of mine, Monica Banner, approached me and asked me if I was okay, I just said "yes". I knew my hand was probably broken and I was delaying the inevitable. At some point, I was going to have to get my hand looked at.

Danny and I got questioned over and over again about the fight - what led up to it and who threw the first punch? It appeared like the police officers were absolutely giddy over the fact that they had a sheriff's deputy on the hook for being involved in the fight. About 30 minutes after the whole fiasco started a Royal Blue Ford F-150 Crew Cab pulled into the parking lot. I saw Danny visibly take and exhale a deep breath as he watched the Ford get parked. I couldn't tell if it was a sigh of relief or one of impending doom. As the driver exited I could see that it was Danny's boss, Pat Quinn, the Sheriff of Mason County.

He walked directly over to where Danny and I were standing by one of the RRFFD ambulances. Danny was going to try and say something but Pat just gave him a stern look and said, "not now." Pat stopped a few feet away and then approached the police captain, Pete Sturgeon.

"So, what's the story, Pete?" Pat asked.

"Well, looks like one of your boys was involved in an altercation tonight, Sheriff."

"Yes, it would seem that way," Pat said, annoyed. "But what is the story you have so far on how it started?"

"Well, two of the guys have already been taken to the hospital. Seems your deputy and his friend worked them over pretty good. The other three said that their friend, Randy, was provoked by Anderson and your deputy."

"I hope you thought to get Danny's side of the story, too, Pete," Quinn said, obviously irritated.

"We're going to get everyone's statement, Pat, to ascertain exactly what happened. Trust me; I know how law enforcement works, okay?"

"Yeah, well, I'm going inside to talk to the manager," Pat said, walking off towards the door.

"What good is the manager going to do, Pat? She was inside the whole time."

"You see those little bubble-looking things on the corners of the buildings, Pete? Those are called video cameras. I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that at least one or more of those caught the whole incident on tape. I'm also gonna go out on a limb and assume that there are cameras inside the building that probably caught whatever led up to this, too."

Sturgeon was obviously caught flat-footed. "Yeah, I know there are cameras, Pat. But we still have to get statements, too."

"Well, you might save yourself some time if you just go in and ask the manager to check out the video and audio," Quinn said as he walked into the building. "Tell you what, Pete, I'll go ahead and do it for ya."

Three patrol officers, a police sergeant and a police lieutenant did their best to stifle giggles and snickers as they were obviously embarrassed by their captain's lack of observation. But, to their discredit, none of them had seen the cameras, either. In fact, only now that Quinn had pointed them out did I even notice them myself. To a casual observer, they looked like anything but a camera and more like a burned out light as they closely resembled the rest of the exterior lighting of The End Zone.

Sturgeon ended up grudgingly following Quinn inside the restaurant. They were inside for nearly 30 minutes and my hand was hurting more and more each second. Finally, Sturgeon and Quinn came back outside. We were informed that Randy Jones, Wade Ryan and the rest of their buddies were going to be charged with assault, public intoxication and disorderly conduct. At this time, Danny and I were told we were not going to be charged with anything but that we shouldn't get our hopes up as the investigation was going to continue and there was the possibility we could each end up with a disorderly conduct charge. Danny didn't think it was likely, since they didn't charge us initially, but I didn't know the difference and I was kinda worried.

It was almost midnight by the time the police had everything wrapped up. Randy Jones and Wade Ryan would be informed of their arrest at the hospital. We all received either a field breathalyzer test, or blood alcohol test for Randy and Wade, but Danny and I both only blew a 0.04 and 0.05 respectively - well under the legal limit. The other five had tested between a 0.15 and a 0.2.

"Well, are you guys proud of yourselves?" Quinn asked as he came back to me and Danny.

"Look, Pat, it wasn't our fault," Danny tried to explain.

"Yeah, I know. I saw the tapes. You guys got provoked inside the restaurant and let those idiots follow you all the way out to the parking lot and allowed them to goad you two into a physical altercation! The part that was your fault was not having the common sense to call a cop and put an end to it when the five of them started to follow you out here! What the fuck did you two think was going to happen?!!"