New Year at TAC
(Book 7 in the Mob from TAC series)
Copyright 2017 Richard Pinkerton
CHAPTER 1:
Tucker’s Luck
‘Tucker, are you still here?’
Tucker Pyles almost leapt out of his seat, nearly choking over a mouthful of stew. It was his 6th helping, but as long as there was still some in the pot, he wasn’t going to stop. However, now it seemed he had no choice, especially now that his mother was on his case.
‘You’re going to be late, you fat buffoon!’ His mother stepped up to him and scuffed the back of his head with her hand. His head lurched forward, knocking into a spoonful of stew, sending it splattering onto the kitchen table. ‘Oh, for goodness bloody sake!’ His obese mother delivered another slap to the back of the head. ‘Can’t you be more careful, you klutz?’
‘You hit me!’ whined Tucker, attempting to scrape some of the stew off the table.
He received another clout, causing him to flick it further across the table. ‘Don’t get cheeky to me! You’re too darn fond of being cheeky, you are.’ She let out an irritated gasp. ‘Now look what you’ve done! Are you trying to make a mess of the entire table?’
‘I’m sorry!’ He flinched, expecting his mother to deliver another clout. He peered up at her tubby in fear. It wasn’t that long ago when she was bigger than him, but now that he was sixteen years old, he was taller and fatter, although he saw his fat as extra flabby muscle. Anyone who wanted to argue that would soon find out just how powerful that “muscle” was. Despite the fact he was probably more powerful than his mother now, he dared not put it to the test.
‘So, I should ruddy well think so. You’re an ungrateful sod, that’s what you are. You bring this family nothing but shame. I can’t believe we have a jailbird living in this house and you’re only sixteen years old too.’
Tucker didn’t care to be reminded of that fact. He had suffered the humiliation of being framed for a crime he didn’t commit. In October the previous year, a teacher had been killed and the murderer accused him of the crime. He had been locked up in a prison cell for two days before his name was cleared. His mother had never let him forget it, which was totally unjust considering he had been innocent. ‘I didn’t deserve to be in jail.’
‘Rubbish! You should still be in there now. You might not have murdered that teacher, but there are plenty of things you’ve done that should get you locked up.’
He peered up at her angry face. It seemed to be locked permanently into a scowl. She could have easily passed as a witch, and knowing his luck, she probably was - especially judging by the evil concoctions she cooked up for dinner sometimes. The stew he now fed on had all sorts of unidentifiable lumps in it. Was that a frog leg he saw swimming in his bowl? What was that thing that looked like a boiled-up cockroach? It wouldn’t be surprising, after all the kitchen was a mess with stains all over the walls and benches. After a big feed, nobody at the Pyles house had much energy to do cleaning. Tucker shuddered to think what it was sitting in his spoon, but ate it anyway, hoping it was something nutritious.
He slurped up the last of his stew and let out a loud belch.
SLAP! His mother’s hand struck him across the cheek. ‘That’s enough of that, you disgusting pig! If that’s the appreciation you show when it comes to my cooking, you won’t be getting anymore.’
‘But Mum.’ Tucker’s face lit up, remembering something he had been taught in Home Economics. It was one of the few things he had learned last year. ‘In some countries burping after a meal is considered a compliment.’
‘Don’t be so stupid!’ She clipped him roughly across the shoulder. ‘I don’t know where you get these stupid ideas from.’
‘It’s something I learnt at school Mum. I think its Australia where they do that.’
‘Rubbish! You’re lying to me. You’re too fond of lying. You better stop or I’ll give you a good strapping.’
‘It’s not a lie!’
SLAP! Her palm hit the side of his face, yet again. ‘Don’t answer back! You’re too fond of answering back. Besides, since when did you ever learn anything at school? You’re as useless as a glob of spit in a firefight. The day you learn anything at school will be the day they make a Happy Meal that really does make you happy!’
‘But…’
‘And if you really did learn half the stuff they teach you, they wouldn’t have threatened to hold you back in year 11 again!’
That was something else he didn’t like to be reminded of. He had failed all his classes miserably last year and the school had considered making him repeat year 11. In the end they relented, but told him he’d have to pull finger this complete all his credits this year if he didn’t want to be held back the following year. If Tucker had his way, he’d pack it all in now. ‘Can’t I drop out of school, Mum? I’m old enough now. I could get a fulltime job instead of a part-time one.’
‘Tempting, very tempting. But no, I had to stay in school until I was eighteen, so I don’t see why you should get out early. Besides, with the money you’re earning at the gym, cleaning and your dad’s income from the Cheese factory, we make enough to keep us all well fed.’
Keep you well fed you mean, he thought, but dared not say it aloud.
‘Anyway, what are you still doing sitting around scoffing your fat face? You need to get to work. Cliff Morrison will be ropeable if you’re late again.’
Tucker sighed and rose to his feet.
‘Before you go, you better wash them dishes.’
‘But I’m late!’
She delivered a vicious kick to his shins. ‘Don’t be so lazy! You’re too darn fond of being lazy. You can at least do your chores before you go. I’m not gonna do them for you.’
Tucker groaned and cursed his luck at having such a horrible mother. He hobbled over to the kitchen sink to get on with the job.
Tucker arrived at the gym, fifteen minutes late. He was lucky to get there within that time. His boss Cliff met him and didn’t look impressed. ‘Late again, Pyles. I’m getting really sick of this.’
‘It was Mum. She made me hang around and do chores.’
‘Don’t give me that crap, Tucker. Just get in there. Some one threw up in the men’s bogs and one of the cubicles is a complete mess.’
Cliff had been so nice to him when Tucker had originally offered his services to the gym. However, after a few weeks of working for him, Tucker had changed his opinion of him. He wanted to clout the guy around the back of the head like his mother had done to him at dinner time and mess up that spikey brown hair of his. As for that stupid looking soul patch above his chin, he just wanted to pluck it out hair by hair.
‘Quit looking at me like that Tucker and move it! Bog cleaning right away. It’s urgent.’
Tucker groaned and went to work. He grabbed a mop and bucket from the cleaning cupboard and stopped by the workout room to see who was there. It was pretty quiet as it usually was on a Saturday night. Everyone was probably at parties. He wished he could be invited to parties, but that was a rare occasion. He was usually the last person on anyone’s mind when it came to invitations.
He imagined what some of his classmates were doing right now. Rex Cassidy probably had three or four hot chicks slobbering over him. They’d probably be soaking in a spa about now, pampering him and attending to his every whim.
Just to make sure, it wasn’t happening in the gymnasium spa, he checked the spa room. No, he definitely wasn’t there, but there was someone there – a very attractive someone.
‘Hi, Gloria!’ He waved to her and in the process, the bucket flew from his hand, bounced off the wall and into the spa, nearly hitting her.
Glorious Gloria he liked to refer to her as… although he didn’t have the g
uts to call it to her face. For one thing, she was in her mid 20s. The other thing was she was a police officer.
‘Tucker!’ Gloria groaned and threw the bucket out of the pool at him. ‘Can’t you be more careful?’
‘Sorry.’ Tucker blushed. He continued to gaze at her for a bit. It was hard not too. She was a tall, slender woman, with long dark hair. She had very striking eyebrows, which were quite thick, yet attractive on her. She reminded him a bit of a younger Jennifer Connolly. She looked great in a swimsuit too.
‘Well? Do you want something?’
‘I err…’
‘Don’t you have some work to do?’
‘Oh yeah. I’ve got to clean up some puke.’
‘Err, thanks, Tucker, I really needed to know that.’
‘You’re welcome.’ Tucker smiled, thinking he had done her a favour. Maybe he could do her some more favours. One would be to offer her his company in the spa. ‘Hey err, Gloria… would you like me to scrub your back for you?’
Gloria gaped at him as if he had just blown snot all over his hand. ‘I’m not taking a bath you know!’
‘Well, how about I give you a massage then? I’m sure your muscles are aching after your workout.’
‘No thanks!’ she said, causing Tucker’s heart to sink.
‘Well how about I take you out for a beer?’
‘No! Tucker, you do remember what happened last time you tried to ask me out for drink?’
‘Oh, yeah…’ Tucker remembered back and shuddered. She had clapped handcuffs on him and accused him of attempted underage drinking. It had only been a joke, but had caused him a great deal of embarrassment. ‘Can I take you for a coffee then?’ he asked hopefully.
‘No! Look, I am not interested, all right? I don’t date kids, especially not people like you. However, if you were…’ Her words trailed off. ‘Just forget about it!’
‘If I was what? A cop? I’m gonna be a cop one day, honest. As soon as I finish school, I’m joining up.’
‘I didn’t mean that. Now just leave me alone, will you? I’d like to relax in peace.’
Tucker sighed, picked up his bucket and headed for the toilets. It was just his luck… bombing out again.
The overwhelming stench of puke filled his nasal cavities once he entered the changing rooms. It wasn’t hard to find the offending cubicle and he almost wanted to throw up himself when he saw the mess. Someone had overdone it with the training again. He hated that. He knew what it was like to feel sick after exercise. He felt that way every week, five minutes into one of Mr Harris’s PE classes.
He got to work mopping up the mess. It took him quite some time, but finally he was down to the finishing touches, mopping the sides of the bowl with a cloth drenched with disinfectant. The door to the cubicle had closed and his huge frame made it difficult to move, but the job was almost complete.
He nearly didn’t notice two men enter the changing rooms.
‘Can you believe that fat moron?’ Tucker recognised him as Bill, the trainer.
‘He’s an incompetent jackass.’ That was Ted one of the gym regulars, recognisable by his grating voice.
‘The guy’s a half wit,’ Bill said.
Tucker wondered whom it was they were talking about. Probably Fred Jonus, one of their overweight regulars.
‘Why the hell did Cliff hire the half-wit? He’s about as useful as a glob of spit in a firefight!’
So, they were talking about a staff member. That only left Frank Gunther, the full-time cleaner, who worked at the gym during the week. He was a little overweight. Yes, that was whom they were talking about.
‘Can you believe some kid talked Cliff into hiring him?’ Bill chuckled.
‘Some kid? Why would he listen to some punk kid?’
‘The Cassidy kid. He gets on well with Cliff. Asked him to take the guy on because he really needed the job. Gave him a sob story about how the fat moron had nothing going for him and had an abusive mother who was forcing him to get a job.’
Wow, thought Tucker. So, Frank had similar problems to him… although Frank’s mother had to be pretty old by now, because he was 56.
Ted snickered. ‘But there’s only so long you can put up with a liability. Do you realise how much cleaning products that guy goes through? Bottles of the stuff. He uses almost one bottle in one cleaning session. The amount he uses in a week is enough to hire a whole new staff member.’
Bill chuckled. ‘Well I don’t think we’ll have to put up with him for much longer.’
‘Why?’
‘Cliff’s had enough. He told me he’s giving the guy one last chance. One more mistake and he’s out of there.’
Tucker smirked. He always thought Frank Gunther was an incompetent ubbhead. His eyes lit up when it occurred to him the gym would be looking for a new full-time cleaner. Tucker was a sure thing to fill the role, if he could just get his mother to agree to him dropping out of school.
Ted burst out laughing. ‘Well, he’ll be out of here in a few days then. That guy can’t go three days without making a total muck up of something.’
Bill laughed too. ‘Yep. That moron is on his last legs. I reckon its goodbye to…’
Tucker’s jaw dropped as he heard Bill say the name of the offender.
Ted laughed some more. ‘The place will be better off without the fat git.’
Tucker swallowed and the terrible truth dawned on him. At first, he didn’t want to believe it, but there were no doubts about it. They weren’t talking about Frank Gunther. They were talking about him…