Drifter’s Code

Chapter 21: Pennies For The Tip Jar

Tim Oleson

Beau and Lucky had spent the day strolling around a nature preserve outside of town. It was their way of getting exercise and just enjoying the outdoors. Lucky did not have a leash on. He was free to roam but he rarely strolled very far from Beau.

When he had first found Lucky, Beau had to keep him on a leash but as they both learned to get to know each other Beau had been able to trust him more and more to not run off chasing whatever live creature came across their path. The only time Beau felt the need to keep him on a leash when they were not in town, was when they first got out of the van in the morning.

Neither of them knew what to expect when that door opened. There might be deer grazing nearby, rabbits darting through the brush, nearby campers or some other creature Lucky would be tempted to chase. Beau preferred to have him on a leash until they had a chance to see what kind of day awaited them.

It wasn’t that Lucky wasn’t tempted. Beau could see his natural instincts urging him to take off after whatever caught his attention. Somehow, though, Lucky had learned to resist the urge. The only other times Lucky was leashed was in town. Beau trusted Lucky, the leash was just for the benefit of others.

This second night was a good crowd but the bar was not as full as the previous night. Beau thought that would probably happen, especially since this was also a weekday night.

Randy didn’t call in an extra pair of hands to help with the bar tending so he was very busy doing it all himself.

Everything was going great till half way into his second set, Beau was in the middle of song when he noticed a large man approach the front of the stage. It was Mayor Morgan.

Evidently, he had found out about Beau playing at the Oasis and wanted to hear for himself about the guitarist/singer playing there. Beau almost didn’t recognize him. He didn’t have that business suit on. He was wearing what Beau thought to be golf wear. All he was missing was a white beret, Beau thought.

Terrance Morgan stood thereat the front of the stage, staring intently at Beau.

After a moment, Mayor Morgan reached into his pocket, grabbed a handful of pennies, and slowly, dramatically, let them spill into the tip jar. He wore an expression somewhere between a smile and a scowl as he reached into his pocket again and repeated the performance.

The crowd watched in confusion, then disbelief.

Beau couldn’t keep playing. He stopped abruptly and burst out laughing. His guitar began sliding down his leg as he sat on his stool, laughing so hard he could barely hold on to the neck.

For a long moment, he couldn’t speak. Finally, he gathered enough composure to address the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I want…”

Another fit of laughter interrupted him.

He took a breath, shook his head, and tried again.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I want to introduce you all to your mayor, Mr. Terrance Morgan.”

Morgan stood straight and tall, defiant in the face of whatever Beau might say next. He was the town’s mayor, standing his ground and apparently proud of whatever point he thought he was making.

“I was lucky enough to meet your mayor at Maggie’s Cafe last night. He, in no uncertain terms, enlightened me that he approved of the size of Maggie’s breasts and that she does not, in his opinion, make enough doughnuts.”

The crowd erupted.

“I now also realize your mayor is multitalented. He not only runs this beautiful oasis of a town, but he’s also an excellent comedian.”

The crowd erupted again.

Once the laughter subsided, Beau continued.

“I sure appreciate the comedic nature of your personality, sir,” he said directly to Morgan, who was beginning to turn red with embarrassment, although he’d deny it for the rest of his life.

“I just hope your town budget isn’t short several dollars at my expense.”

The crowd was still smiling, and a softer wave of laughter moved through the room.

Suddenly, Beau’s expression changed.

He settled his guitar where it belonged and leaned forward, resting his forehead against the microphone. He gripped it with both hands.

For a moment, he remained that way, silent.

Then he drew a sharp breath, raised his head, and lifted one hand to quiet the room.

“Mr. Mayor, and all of you here…”

He paused.

“I apologize.”

The room grew quiet.

“What I just said was mean.”

He let the words settle before continuing.

“That is not the person I want to be. Regardless of what you intended, Mr. Mayor, I had no right to be mean.”

Beau lowered his hand and fell silent.

Morgan stood there without responding.

The room remained quiet, too. Most of the people present knew what the mayor was like. Some probably felt he’d gotten exactly what he deserved. But they had also just witnessed something unexpected: a man who had the crowd on his side choosing to admit he’d gone too far.

Randy stood motionless behind the bar, watching.

Everyone waited for a reaction.

But just as he had the night before, Mayor Morgan decided he’d stood his ground long enough for one evening. His expression shifted into a sheepish scowl, one that seemed to be invented on the spot. Then, as proudly as he could manage, he nodded to Beau, straightened his shoulders, turned, and walked out of the building.

He had made his point. What exactly that point was, people would debate for a long time. Small towns love debates.

After Terrance Morgan left, Beau looked at Randy.

“Randy, if Mr. Mayor forgot to pay his tab, let me know. I’ll gladly pay it. We’re just that good of buddies now.”

A few people chuckled, but the room remained quieter than before. Conversations began to stir, the jubilance of a few moments earlier replaced by something more reflective.

Beau looked out over the crowd.

“Wow. That was a memory I didn’t see coming.”

He paused, looking down at his guitar.

“But I think there’s a song I need to play right now. I wrote it about a year ago. It’s called ‘Drifter’s Code.'”

He began to play.

This time, there was no joking or laughing. Beau sang with a renewed sincerity, and the audience listened, seeming to take in every word.

For Beau, the song had taken on a meaning he hadn’t anticipated when he first wrote it.

Afterward, he played several more songs. Gradually, the familiar ambiance of a bar crowd returned, and the evening continued.

But very few people who had witnessed that scene would forget it anytime soon.

At the end of the night, both Randy and Beau were pleased with the money they’d made.

Beau treated Randy to a handful of pennies.