Whiskey Jack
Chapter 4: Uniform Of The Day

Copyright© 2012 by wordytom

Zelda ordered five pair of jeans. Jack ordered five pairs of split side short-shorts. The smile Zelda smiled at him held no warmth as she said, "I can't stop you from wasting all your hard earned poker winnings, but I don't have to wear them. No way will you catch me in those ho-clothes."

The sales lady cleared her throat at the obvious slur on her merchandise. "Most of our clientele are professional women who earn high salaries."

"Yeah, but what profession do they practice, dressed like that?" Zelda was angry with Jack because of what she thought of as his "typical male" thinking.

"Zel, you are a finest kind of woman to look at. Stop hiding your beautiful self and show a little hide." He smiled at the sour expression on her face.

"They are lawyers, business executives and housewives." The sales clerk looked Zelda in the eye and added, "I wear these outfits and even thong swimwear when I go to the beach and I know what my profession is." She had become angry at Zelda's attitude.

"Well, I won't be caught dead in any of those things."

Jack frowned, "Why not?"

Zelda blushed and paused. She looked up at the ceiling. Then she looked down at Jack and said is a sad voice, "Because I'm thirty-two years old and fat and the time I could have worn these things has passed me by. I don't care to look pathetic."

"If this don't take the rag off the bush. Damn it Zel, you have the finest kind of body. Nobody and I mean nobody could find fault with your body. It looks full of life and livable. Remember, I saw you kick the hell out of that clown who tried to attack me. Then you rode your bike down the hill from the VA Medical Center and saved me when that same clown took a shot at me."

"Shut up, Jack. You're embarrassing me. Just shut up now." Zelda's face became as red as her hair.

Jack turned to the sales woman, "Get ten miniskirts in her size. You know what colors. I want ten see through blouses, all kinds of underwear, business dresses, runners outfits and dresses for evening wear. She will need a good selection of swimwear from Brazilian cut to something my grandma would wear. Use your imagination and get it."

Jean, according to the ID tag on her blouse nodded and tried to look professional. "Y-yes sir, I'll get started immediately. I'll have to call my boss to get someone in here to cover for me." She grabbed up the phone behind the counter, punched in a number and began to talk.

Zelda looked ready to explode. "Jack, you haven't been listening to me. What about my input here? After all, I would not feel comfortable if I agreed to wear most of that extreme stuff."

"So, order what you want. We'll compromise. Okay?" It was difficult to not laugh as Zelda tried to argue with a madman.

"Go ahead and pick out some of those jeans that make your ass look two sizes larger than the rest of you. I guess a few smocks and some old lady underwear won't be too bad. After all, you'll never model it for me. So what difference does it make to me?"

"You better believe you'll never get a chance to see me in my underwear. You just get those thoughts out of your demented mind right now."

"Did you know that you look like a pugnacious little girl when you get all defensive like you are right now?" He smiled at her and added, "So when she gets back over here, you just order all that old granny stuff you want to wear. Okay?"

Jean came back as soon as she got off the phone. "My boss will be here in a couple of minutes. Have you finished fighting yet?"

"I won and I want sensible jeans and underwear." She stared hard at Jack as if to defy him to argue.

"Yep, she won alright. Give her what she wants." Jack smiled.

Jean's face fell as she saw a huge commission go out the door. "What about all the stuff you ordered?" Please, God, let him buy some of that stuff, she prayed to herself.

"Oh you just fill that order too. Who knows, just maybe she'll wear some of that stuff on special days. You never know." He gave her a self-satisfied smirk.

Zelda kept quiet and simmered inside. She doubted Jack would force the issue, but the whole thing made her angry. She did not care to be teased about her appearance. Her now dead husband yelled at her about "that fat ass and ugly body" almost daily. She made her choices and kept silent.

Jean bagged the purchases and smiled, as they got ready to pay. "Do you have more than one credit card? This will max out one card unless it's one of the corporate high limit cards. I should have asked you that question before I filled your orders."

"Nah, Zelda here will write a check for it."

The storeowner came over and explained, "Sir, we cannot accept a personal check for this amount. I'm sorry. Your total with sales tax is almost seven thousand dollars."

"Well, will you take cash?"

"Ah, yes sir."

"Zel, please go across the way and cash a check for ten thousand dollars. We need to get you some shoes and, hell, I don't know what else.

"Jack, you are something else." She ran across to the bank, cashed a check and rushed back out of breath.

"Well, pay the lady," Jack told her when she stood and waited.

Zelda counted out the correct amount and after a short hesitation put the remaining thirty-one hundred dollars in her fanny pack. "What now?" she asked.

"Shoes?" Jean asked them.

"What about shoes?" Jack asked as he tried to bring his mind back away from the idea of Zelda in a thong and ribbon swimsuit.

Jean smiled at him, looked at Zelda and laughed. "Unless she has more at home, well worn tennis shoes don't make much of a fashion statement."

"Jack, she's right." Zelda gave Jack a wistful look. "I know you've spent all this money, but new shoes would help me care for you better. There's a discount shoe store in the mall here that would have something for maybe twenty dollars. I saw the store when we came out of the bank."

Jean added, "There's also a better shoe store across the mall two doors down from the bank that handles quality merchandise and not factory rejects and seconds. That's where I shop because I spend so much time on my feet. Good shoes make all the difference in the world."

Zelda frowned at the interruption. "Jack, less expensive shoes would be fine." She was afraid Jack would all at once realize he had spent all this money on her and do something bad. She had no idea what this nebulous "something bad" might be; only that it would be bad.

"Hey, that's a great idea," Jack told Jean. "That's one thing about the army. Those people never skimped on footwear. It's hell on your feet to go on a forced march with a full pack in piss poor boots. With crap on your feet, it could cripple you for life."

"I'll be glad to help you carry these packages out to your car," Jean told them. "Where are you parked?"

"Uh," said Jack.

"Oh," said Zelda. She explained, "I ran here and Jack drove his new wheelchair. Hoo boy, neither of us thought."

"Maybe we should just get a couple of cabs and haul this stuff home and come back to do the rest of our shopping." Jack thought hard for another alternative.

Zelda shook her head. "Jack, why don't we just put this stuff in a couple of shopping carts and you sit over there across the way with everything while I run back to the house and get my pickup?" Jack nodded.

Zelda walked out of the store and spotted a shopping cart near the exit from the mall to the parking area. She brought it back and left to find another. Jean began to pack the boxes and bags that held Jack's purchases. Jack sat and watched. When Zelda returned, they filled the second cart full.

Jack waited until Jean held the door open for him. Zelda followed with one shopping cart. Jean brought up the rear with the other. "This place looks just fine," Jack told them and backed his wheelchair up to a wall.

"You sure you'll be alright?" Zelda asked him.

"Yeah, this will be fine. Damn it Zel, you don't realize how good it feels to be able to breathe smoggy air and sit in the sunshine. You go ahead and get your truck and get back here. Take a cab." He checked her out once again. "Damn." He grinned and she blushed.

Zelda thought a moment and told him, "I'll just run home. I can get there before the cab could pick me up here." She turned away from him and started to run away.

"Oh hell, that is just fine," Jack murmured to himself as he watched her disappear. "Fat butt? No damned way. She looks a hell of a lot better in those shorts than I ever did." He sighed and wished.

Three Mexican gang bangers came strutting through the mall. Their leader made a grab at one of Jack's shopping carts. "Hands off, punk."

"What chu going to do, crip? Chu goin' to hurt me?" He sneered and started to reach for Jack.

"You got that right, asshole." Jack snapped the joystick hard forward with a twist of his wrist. The chair shot forward and knocked the gangbanger down.

Jack backed up, spun halfway around and ran over the second one's feet. The third gangbanger hurried away. Jack rolled his chair over the first one's ankles and then ran back over them when he backed up, spun around and did the same with the second one. He almost tipped the heavy chair over.

"Oops!" he exclaimed and spun hard around again. The gang member that ran away had come back and tried to sneak up on Jack. He swung the fist-sized rock in his hand just as the chair's footrest smashed into his ankles.

"Damn, but that smarts," Jack exclaimed when the rock connected with his cheekbone. The third gangster wannabe went down and received the same ankle treatment. He screamed and passed out when one foot got crushed.

"Damned sissy punks," Jack muttered under his breath and waited for whatever came next.

"My god!" What happened here?" Zelda screamed as she shoved the way through the crowd that had gathered around Jack and the three Mexicans. A television camera was trained on Jack and an attractive woman in a black pants suit held a microphone close to his face. His cheek was still bleeding.

"Jack Daniels, I leave you alone for just a few minutes and you get into trouble. Oh Jack! You're bleeding."

"Hell, I already know that. You got another of those handy wipes in your magic purse there?" He grinned up at her. The smeared blood on his cheek turned the smile into a predatory leer.

The leader of Jack's three captives tried to crawl off. "Get back here, asshole. Face down or I'll kill you." His drill sergeant voice crackled with authority.

"Jack, settle down. I'll take over now." She bent down to kiss his forehead just as he turned his face up toward her. When their lips met, Jack was jolted hard.

The accidental kiss flowed through Zelda as no kiss ever had before. Her eyes grew wide and round. "Oh dear," she whispered.

"Jesus," Jack whispered.

The TV camera got it all. "Are you two engaged?" the on camera reporter asked. "There seems a wonderful magic between you."

Her remark brought Jack down. He looked at the woman and said, "The magic turned tragic. I'm not enough of a man for someone as wonder..." He hiccupped and continued, " ... ful as Zelda Perkins. Unfortunately she is my caretaker and nothing more. And boy does she take care of me."

Zelda heard several snickers in the crowd and blushed at how many had taken Jack's compliment. "Jack, shut up," she whispered.

"I'll shut up if you'll kiss me again. Otherwise..." He let his voice trail off into an implied threat.

"Oh god, anything to shut you up." She rested both hands on the armrests of the wheelchair and bent forward. She puckered and bent forward. He craned his neck and slipped his tongue between her lips. Jack worked his tongue back and forth and Zelda felt thrills start in her throat and end up in her nether regions.

At last their lips parted and the TV reporter gasped, "Wow! If I ever got a kiss like that before, I'd be a married woman today." The TV camera got it all.

Then the police came and began to take statements. Every eyewitness had a different perspective. Two Hispanic women claimed Jack attacked "those poor kids" for no reason at all. Four teen-aged girls remembered nothing that happened prior to the two kisses.

One seventeen year old said, "Didja see how hot that was? He may be an old man in a wheelchair, but he's ... he's a rocket. We heard all about him from our moms. That's Whiskey Jack Daniels."

"I got it all on digital, from when that guy tried to steal Mister Daniels' shopping cart. I saw those three guys coming at old Whiskey there and I grabbed a camera and started shooting." The cops ignored the young man.

The TV reporter didn't ignore him. "If it's any good, I'll give you five hundred dollars for your disc, flash drive, or whatever you have the movie on."

"Okay, if Whiskey Jack says it's okay. I work for Genius Computers over there. See me after the cops leave. I'm glad they ignored me when I tried to give it to them." She nodded to him.

"Jack, what are your plans for the future?" The reporter decided to milk this interview for as much as she could. This man was gold; a cripple in a wheelchair who took out three previously fit gang members was a definite career booster.

Jack thought a moment. "Lady, I'm a helpless cripple stuck in a wheelchair. What plans could I have beyond a couple of books I want to write on the stupidity of wars fought to make a few politicians and corporations richer? Look at the bloated whale we have for a U.S. Senator from this state. I found papers in Afghanistan that proved he was on the take and nothing happened except he got my squad killed."

"Jack, remember what happened at the VA. Just shut up." Zelda did her best to make him shut up.

"Do you have anything else to say about Senator Creel?" If this guy kept talking, she'd have her own news spot.

"Well, just one more thing. The people who vote for crooks like Creel are just as much to blame because they vote with the other end of their bodies from where their brains are." He thought and added, "That is if they stop griping and whining enough to get off their dead butts and vote."

"The way I see it, this country has been divided up into fragments by race, religion ideology and anything else that would keep us from acting as a unified nation."

Jack didn't realize the camera angle of the television equipment gave him the appearance of a warrior king of old.

He added, "Both parties are corrupt. Creel's party is the most corrupt this time around."

"Jack, shut your mouth right now and let's get out of here. You're going to get us both into trouble with your bitter tongue."

"Jack, the young man over there at the computer store has something to show you." The cameraman had already begun to back up toward the computer store.

Jack followed. And the two women, Zelda and the news reporter brought up the rear. Jack turned to Zelda. "Let's get a computer while we're here. You already said you don't respect my Yugo computer.

Jack watched the episode with the three gang bangers. He looked from the salesman who shot it using a professional quality digital camera to the high definition screen that showed the action. "I'll give you five hundred dollars for a copy."

"I already offered him a thousand dollars for the original, Mister Daniels," Liz Pastern the TV reporter said.

"Well, we have a standoff here I guess. If you try to use that without my permission, I'll sue and I will win because I have more money than you do. Your employers will get tired of defending you and will let you go. No other TV station will touch you because a bad lawsuit like this taints you."

Jack's voice became hard, "I will damned well destroy you professionally. You don't know who I am, do you?"

"Ah, your name is John R Daniels. I heard the policeman call it in." Liz had a sick feeling her wonderful day was about to go bad on her.

"I was also known as Whiskey Jack Daniels. And until that damned Senator Creel caused my life to get torn to shreds, I was an internationally rated athlete. My name still means something, especially when I announce my candidacy to run as an independent for Creel's seat in the Senate."

Oh," she answered and shut up.

After he made certain Liz Pastern felt the stick, Jack offered her a carrot. "Now one solution is to share. You pay the young man for a copy and use it with my blessing. You now know my name and can use it in your story. I pay the young man and I also have a copy to use as I see fit. This way we all three win and nobody has to feel like a loser. Okay?"

Liz grabbed her cameraman's cell phone off his belt and punched in the number of her newsroom. She spoke a few moments and disconnected. "You got a deal and my boss says to tell you hi."

"Who's your boss?" Jack asked.

"Manny Reyes. You kept two football players from drowning him in a toilet." She looked at him with new eyes.

"Hey, I forgot all about that." Jack laughed and added, "Poor little Manny was one of the kids who got a bad deal right from the git go. And I couldn't let those two retards bully him."

 
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