Bonnie Murdock (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
is_the_motion) wrote2016-08-19 09:34 pm
is_the_motion) wrote2016-08-19 09:34 pm
(no subject)
The Iron Scorpions were not a happy bunch of bikers.
The sudden death of their leader, Black Ice, from alcoholic liver disease a few months back had opened up a power vacuum. The vice president had been running the gang in the meantime, but in all honesty, he wasn't a well man either, and he had already admitted he wasn't up to becoming the new president.
The gang had been together for decades; the oldest members coming on for forty years, Bonnie's cohort for thirty, and even most of the youngest for ten. A life of regular binge drinking, overeating and riding long distance had taken its toll on many of them.
And suddenly, they were presented with a problem. Ordinarily, one of the senior members would have become the next president. But after a few weeks it became apparent that none of them were really up to it.
And that was when Picket decided to stand.
Picket was not a natural leader. He was a couple of years younger than Bonnie, and had been born into a very wealthy family who had lost everything in the stock market crash - including his father who had succumbed to a heart attack shortly after. Faced with homelessness, Picket's mother put him in care, he was sent off to work on a farm, and that was the last they saw of one another. Picket had left school with no qualifications, and now worked picking trash off the highways, a job which had led him to go nuts if he saw anyone littering. And yelling at people to 'Pick it up' was how he'd ended up with the name Picket.
A lot of the gang weren't too pleased at the idea, and were pressing Turtle to stand against him. Turtle had initially refused, saying he would have enough on with Bonnie and the baby, but eventually under pressure he'd announced that if he stood, he'd introduce a four drink maximum for all events, thinking that would put everyone off and be the end of the matter.
It wasn't. Turned out that about half of the other bikers didn't want to watch everyone die either.
And that was where the problem lay.
"Look, Turtle?" Bonnie says one evening, as she rocks the pram with Billie to sleep. "You know I don't interfere with what you get up to, but some of Picket's supporters seem to be gettin' very heated. I'm worried fer your safety."
Turtle looks up, in surprise. Despite living together, the two of them have been very much letting each other do their own thing, and he knows he must be seriously worrying her for her to have said anything.
"You know what they're like, Murdock." he says, gently. "All bark, no bite. If they don't like the four drink rule, they'll just disobey it."
"President's word is law, certainly one they voted you in fer, you know that." Bonnie says. "Do you think we should be working towards splitting the group?"
"I don't know, Red." Turtle says, sighing. "Either they'll vote for Picket and keep drinkin', or vote for me and maybe they won't all be dead in ten years. I'm tired of watchin' them."
When it comes down to the vote, Bonnie leaves Billie with Lucy (who as an ex member no longer has voting rights), and goes to join the meeting. Her heart is in her throat. If Picket wins, she and Turtle will leave the gang. If Turtle wins, the gang will never be the same again.
The vice president counts the votes. Thirty three for Turtle, ten for Picket. Turtle gets up and stands at the front, and Picket turns to him.
"You have destroyed everythin' we stand fer!" Picket yells at him. "You got no damn right to take away our drink, our only pleasure! You got it all, a great job, a family - all I got in the whole world is the Iron Scorpions!"
"It's a four drink limit, not prohibition." Turtle says. "Gang'll be just the same as ever, Picket, don't be dramatic."
Picket takes a swing at him. Turtle, a foot taller and a police officer, blocks it easily.
"Stop it." he says firmly. "You do that again, you really will be leaving."
"This isn't over!" Picket yells, turning and storming off.
Bonnie has a feeling that, about that, he may well be right.
The sudden death of their leader, Black Ice, from alcoholic liver disease a few months back had opened up a power vacuum. The vice president had been running the gang in the meantime, but in all honesty, he wasn't a well man either, and he had already admitted he wasn't up to becoming the new president.
The gang had been together for decades; the oldest members coming on for forty years, Bonnie's cohort for thirty, and even most of the youngest for ten. A life of regular binge drinking, overeating and riding long distance had taken its toll on many of them.
And suddenly, they were presented with a problem. Ordinarily, one of the senior members would have become the next president. But after a few weeks it became apparent that none of them were really up to it.
And that was when Picket decided to stand.
Picket was not a natural leader. He was a couple of years younger than Bonnie, and had been born into a very wealthy family who had lost everything in the stock market crash - including his father who had succumbed to a heart attack shortly after. Faced with homelessness, Picket's mother put him in care, he was sent off to work on a farm, and that was the last they saw of one another. Picket had left school with no qualifications, and now worked picking trash off the highways, a job which had led him to go nuts if he saw anyone littering. And yelling at people to 'Pick it up' was how he'd ended up with the name Picket.
A lot of the gang weren't too pleased at the idea, and were pressing Turtle to stand against him. Turtle had initially refused, saying he would have enough on with Bonnie and the baby, but eventually under pressure he'd announced that if he stood, he'd introduce a four drink maximum for all events, thinking that would put everyone off and be the end of the matter.
It wasn't. Turned out that about half of the other bikers didn't want to watch everyone die either.
And that was where the problem lay.
"Look, Turtle?" Bonnie says one evening, as she rocks the pram with Billie to sleep. "You know I don't interfere with what you get up to, but some of Picket's supporters seem to be gettin' very heated. I'm worried fer your safety."
Turtle looks up, in surprise. Despite living together, the two of them have been very much letting each other do their own thing, and he knows he must be seriously worrying her for her to have said anything.
"You know what they're like, Murdock." he says, gently. "All bark, no bite. If they don't like the four drink rule, they'll just disobey it."
"President's word is law, certainly one they voted you in fer, you know that." Bonnie says. "Do you think we should be working towards splitting the group?"
"I don't know, Red." Turtle says, sighing. "Either they'll vote for Picket and keep drinkin', or vote for me and maybe they won't all be dead in ten years. I'm tired of watchin' them."
When it comes down to the vote, Bonnie leaves Billie with Lucy (who as an ex member no longer has voting rights), and goes to join the meeting. Her heart is in her throat. If Picket wins, she and Turtle will leave the gang. If Turtle wins, the gang will never be the same again.
The vice president counts the votes. Thirty three for Turtle, ten for Picket. Turtle gets up and stands at the front, and Picket turns to him.
"You have destroyed everythin' we stand fer!" Picket yells at him. "You got no damn right to take away our drink, our only pleasure! You got it all, a great job, a family - all I got in the whole world is the Iron Scorpions!"
"It's a four drink limit, not prohibition." Turtle says. "Gang'll be just the same as ever, Picket, don't be dramatic."
Picket takes a swing at him. Turtle, a foot taller and a police officer, blocks it easily.
"Stop it." he says firmly. "You do that again, you really will be leaving."
"This isn't over!" Picket yells, turning and storming off.
Bonnie has a feeling that, about that, he may well be right.