The Anarchist's Heart

I woke up in a familiar and yet entirely foreign setting. The bed was harder than I remembered and the sheets were thin and tangled around my legs. Sunlight coming in past the curtains caused any dust in its path to sparkle. The room smelled of stale cigarettes with just a hint of sweat. I knew the place, though. I recognized the dirtied, fraying American flag nailed into the wall, the 2006 calendar of half-naked women that had yet to be replaced, the copious amounts of photos everywhere, the cluttered shelves, and the dark walls. It was Jax’s room in the clubhouse.

It took a moment for everything to come rushing back to me. We’d tripped into his room, barely clothed after our previous meeting in the chapel, and fell giggling like teenagers onto his bed. He’d kissed me like he’d never get to do it again and we had talked, reliving old memories we’d had in that exact room. His eyes had lit up suddenly and he had said “close your eyes and stay right there” before rushing off the bed over to a shelving unit in the corner. I shut my eyes tight like he’d asked. A few seconds later I felt the bed compress as he sat on it again. He’d told me to open my eyes and when I did, a large, sandy-coloured teddy bear with only one eye and stuffing poking out from his left ear greeted me. I’d hardly been able to believe that Jax had kept my teddy bear for so many years. The story went that when I was nine, Jax invited me for a sleepover at his house. My parents had allowed me to go under the pretence that I was staying at my friend Eloise’s house instead. By a turn of events I didn’t comprehend at the time, we’d ended up having to spend the night at the clubhouse. At the time I still slept with a teddy bear whose name was Cookie. I’d brought it with me and Jax, refusing to tease me about it like other nine-year-old boys would’ve done, dug out an old GI Joe toy and we’d played together with them. Anyway, I’d ended up leaving Cookie there by accident. My parents found out I’d lied to them, thus making it impossible for me to retrieve Cookie. So, I’d been forced to stop needing my teddy bear to get to sleep and Jax had ended up keeping him.

I looked down and saw Cookie on the pillow beside me in Jax’s spot. I giggled and held him to me. He was old and falling apart, but he still held a special piece of my heart. He’d been my absolute favourite stuffed toy as a little girl, and the fact that Jax had refused to get rid of him (especially considering the fact that he had a role of the big, bad biker to uphold—having a teddy bear in his clubhouse room surely looked out of place) made me feel a little warmer about everything.

Stretching and yawning I managed to pull myself out of bed. My internal clock had been sure to wake me up at seven-thirty, which was as late as I would allow myself to sleep if I had to be at work. To be fair, it was a Saturday, but I had lots of marking to do and I wanted to get it done in a place with little to no distractions. So I wasn’t in the biggest rush imaginable, but I did have a goal of getting there at eight o’clock. I put on my clothes from the night before, satisfied that my perfume had clung to them more than the cigarette smoke had and cracked the door open.

I had no clue where Jax had gotten to, but once I put my ear next to the door I heard voices and recognized one as his. Boldly, I walked out of the room into the main area of the clubhouse, where Jax was gathered around a table talking to Chibs, Bobby, and two other men I didn’t recognize. I cleared my throat and they all fell silent. That familiar smirk crept onto Jax’s lips.

“Mornin’, darlin’,” he said in his best coffee-and-cigarettes voice.

“Good morning,” I replied. “I didn’t hear you get up.”

“You were pretty out of it,” Jax answered. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” I said. “I have to get to the school, though.”

“On a Saturday?” Bobby scoffed.

“Assignments won’t mark themselves, unfortunately, and I’m way too far behind already,” I replied. “Um, Jax, can I borrow a sweater or something? They always have the air conditioner running way too cold in that place.”

“Sure, they’re in the top drawer of my dresser. Take whichever one you want.”

“Thanks,” I gave him a smile and wandered back into the bedroom.

After picking out a black zip-up hoodie with the reaper embroidered over the heart (it wasn’t the greatest, but it had the smallest symbol on it) I said goodbye to Jax and headed to work. I couldn’t totally understand why, but I was on Cloud 9. I knew this because I felt totally at peace about going into work on a Saturday, which they could have had off they were slightly more irresponsible than me. I mean, who does that? A big part of me longed for nothing more than bed and re-runs of cheesy ghost hunting shows. But my classes were asking for their marks back on a few projects and that’s when I knew it’d gotten bad enough that I had no other choice but to come in on a day off and get it done.

As always the building was freezing when I unlocked the side door and walked inside. I was the only one in the entire school and I wasn’t about to lie, it was a little bit uncomfortable (I blame all those cheesy ghost hunting shows I mentioned earlier). I secured Jax’s hoodie around me and found the key that’d unlock my classroom. It always smelled the same: like paint, clay, and slightly like newspapers. It was slightly small, or at least enough that it made it difficult sometimes to get around and check on everyone’s progress, depending upon which class it was. The grade seven art class was huge, whereas my grade twelve Advanced Placement class was a comfortable fourteen bodies.

My desk chair made my tailbone ache before I even sat down on the hard wood surface. I made the same mental note I’d made a dozen times prior: to find seat cushions for it, but I continuously forgot. Normally I’d remember, but with everything going on in my life, little things like that seemed to get forgotten more often. Without wasting too much time, I set the coffee I’d grabbed beforehand on my desk along with two granola bars, pulled out one stack of artwork from a shelf behind my desk (there were three in total and none were that puny), and set to work.

Before I knew it, three hours had gone by and I was just about finished the last stack. I was feeling pretty good about myself, to say the least. The kids would be happy to have their grades back—well, some of them anyway—and it was one more weight lifted off of my shoulders. Once I was finished, I put the entire stack into a shelf labelled “Marked” and, with my pyjamas and crap TV on my mind and a smile on my face, I gathered up my things to leave.

After I’d double-checked that the outside door was locked behind me, I headed out towards the parking lot, rummaging in my bag for my car keys. Once I’d found them and looked up, I stopped walking. My vehicle wasn’t the only one parked there anymore and I couldn’t say I recognized the large black truck with tinted windows parked in the stall behind my car. I stood frozen, trying to convince my legs that I just needed to ignore the vehicle, get into mine, and get home, but for some reason they wouldn’t move. There was a little voice in the very back of my head saying ‘This isn’t good, this isn’t good’ and I couldn’t ignore it, even though it was so small and faint. I knew I myself must look suspicious standing there gawking at the truck. The windows were tinted so I couldn’t tell if anybody was in it or not, thus making my position even more frustrating. I tried to tell myself it was empty, that someone had just parked it there for a brief moment while they ran to the convenience store across the street, but that tiny voice overpowered me.

Suddenly, the driver’s side window rolled down and my heart leapt into my throat. “This isn’t good, this isn’t good.” A meaty hand reached out of the truck and waved at me, acknowledging me. Now I really didn’t know what to do. My mind was in a panic: how long had I been standing there staring at the truck? Who was waving at me? Why couldn’t I just get into my damn car?

“Hey,” A man’s deep, gravelly voice called out to me. “Could you help me?”

Okay, I’d seen enough kidnapping documentaries to know that was how it usually started. I wasn’t a kid, but I was alone and maybe that’s all they needed. At the risk of standing transfixed for any longer, I cautiously approached the truck but kept my distance. The man was wearing a baseball cap that cast a shadow upon his face. Everything was so dark in the truck that it seemed to absorb light instead of reflect it. All I could really tell of the man was that he was alone, a lot bigger than me, and that he had knuckle tattoos: a spade, a heart, a diamond, and a club.

“Hello?” I said it more like a question than a greeting. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry, am I trespassing?” he asked. His hand retreated back into the cab.

“Well, no…but we don’t really encourage people parking here…it’s private parking.” I said quietly.

“So why are you parked here then?” he asked. He didn’t say it rudely, but more like a smoothly positioned question that he was hoping he’d get to ask.

“I’m a teacher here,” The voice in the back of my head said ‘You shouldn’t have told him that.’

“Excellent, then you can help me,” he said. “My family and I are moving to the area in a few months and I’ve got a couple kids, aged 13 and 15. Is this a good school? Do they have decent sports programs here?”

“Oh, um, well, I’m the Art teacher so I’m kind of the opposite of sports, but we do have a mixed football and volleyball team. Plus there’s Gym class, I think they play badminton and basketball with that, so…”

“I see. So you teach Art, huh?” He didn’t seem like he’d really even been listening to my long-winded response to his question.

“Y-yes,” I stammered.

“All grades?”

“Mm-hm.”

“That’s a lot of work. Don’t you have a busy life to worry about, too?”

I swallowed and shook my head. “No, I live by myself with my cat. I’m kind of an introvert.”

“That’s why you’re the only one here on a Saturday?”

“I-I guess…”

There was a silence that I wanted to seize as an opportunity to get into my car and peel off, but the man started to tap his fingers against the side of the truck in a slow, even beat that worried me. It sounded menacing to me. And then he spoke, and I knew I needed to leave immediately.

“Nice jacket. You’re in with the Sons, huh?”

I flipped the lapel out to cover up the reaper but it was too late. He continued tapping his fingers, a little faster now. There was an anger in his voice that made me take two steps back.

“It’s not mine, it’s a friends’ I think,” I said in a shuddering breath.

He chuckled faintly. “I’m sure it is.”

Without saying another word to the stranger I got into my car, started it, and exited the driveway. I got halfway down the street when I checked my rear view mirror and saw the black truck turning onto the street after me. With my heart racing and my hands trembling it was really hard to dig my cell phone out of my purse and find Jax’s number. It felt like it rang forever before he finally answered.

“Yeah?”

“Jax, it’s Ella,” I said in a rush. “There’s someone following me and I don’t know who it is but they’re in a big black truck and—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s going on?” Jax interrupted.

“There’s someone following me, Jax,” I repeated despairingly. “They were parked outside the school. They saw your jacket and recognized the reaper and now they’re following me and I’m scared.”

“Where are you?” Jax demanded.

“Um, um…” I looked around desperately; my eyes kept returning to my rear-view. “I’m just turning onto Fourth Avenue, the 500 block.”

“Don’t go home. Don’t come to the clubhouse. Turn right onto George Street and head towards Main. Pull into the gas station on the corner; I’m on my way.” I heard his bike start in the background and then the phone went dead.

I tossed my phone onto the passenger’s seat and did as instructed. A few moments after turning onto George Street I saw the truck turn the corner, too. I had never been more terrified and uncertain before. What did this man want? Why was he following me? I only hoped Jax would make it on time.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long. Shortly after I pulled into the gas station parking lot I heard the familiar rumble of Jax’s Harley pulling up beside me. He ripped his helmet off and the look on his face was terrifying. He was furious. His hand gripped the knife secured at his hip and he looked behind us, waiting for the truck. That’s when I realized something was wrong: he kept staring but nothing happened. The black truck had disappeared from my rear-view.

I rolled my window down and Jax immediately spoke. “What colour did you say the truck was?” he asked.

“Black,” I replied. “It was a Dodge, I think. It was lifted.”

“Well it’s not coming now,” he said, releasing his hold on the knife and turning to me.

“I swear, Jax, it was following me this whole way…I didn’t imagine it…”

“I know, I believe you,” he murmured, leaning against my car door. “You sounded like you were really freaked out on the phone.”

“Why did he stop following me like that? He was on my tail the whole way here and then just…poof,” I shook my head.

“He must’ve heard my bike and thought better of it,” Jax growled. “It’s lucky the bastard had that much common sense in him at least. He didn’t hurt you?”

“No, I didn’t get close enough. I just wish I would’ve been able to see his face better. I swear he was trying to keep me from seeing it on purpose.”

“Did you see anything? Any defining characteristic?”

“Um, he had knuckle tattoos on his left hand: a spade, a heart, a club and a diamond.”

Jax squinted his eyes, clearly lost in thought for the moment. “Hm, I’ve never seen those. Damn it.”

“He knew the Sons, Jax,” I whispered. “I told him the jacket wasn’t mine but I don’t think he believed me. How did he know to come after me, though?”

Jax shrugged. “We did date for years when we were younger; most people in this town associate you with me and the club no matter what. It wouldn’t be too hard to track you down.” His voice was quiet, ashamed.

“So, what now? Do I go into hiding?” I asked.

“No. Head back home, I’ll follow you. I’ll keep watch on you for a couple hours at least but then I have to head out for awhile. I’ll get someone to come keep an eye on you while I’m away.”

The plan didn’t comfort me as much as I would’ve liked it to, but I swallowed any remarks and just nodded my head. Jax leaned in through the window and kissed my cheek before getting back on his bike. I started my car and set off for home with a new tail.

Jax stayed with me for a few hours after we got home, and once he stopped pacing the house, occasionally pausing to look out a window and finger his knife, he nestled down with me on the couch. His fingers ran repetitively through my hair, and with my head on his chest I listened to his steady heartbeat and the sounds of his gentle breathing. I’d finally relaxed when his phone buzzed with a text message and he sighed.

“You have to leave, don’t you?” I asked before he could say anything.

He cast me a saddened look and nodded, running his fingers through his blonde hair in an effort to keep it back from his face. “Yeah, I do. Rat Boy is on his way; he’ll stay with you until I get home.”

He got off the couch and I followed. “When will you be back?”

“Shortly, I hope. Three hours tops. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.” Exhaustion was evident in his voice. I could tell he’d like nothing more than to slip into bed and fall asleep for twelve hours, and I gladly would’ve joined him, but I knew that was impossible. He had club duties, and even the promise of me and sleep couldn’t keep him away from that for too long.

Felix brushed up against my legs and mewed at Jax. Felix had been keeping close to me since we came home that day. I figured he could sense something was wrong. Jax and I weren’t hiding our stress very well; it was evident on both of us. Honestly, the fact that we’d managed to stay cuddled together on the couch for that long without moving was astonishing. Now that I was standing and Jax was getting ready to leave I kept fidgeting with my hands and before I even knew what I was doing I was nibbling on my cuticle, pulling off tiny bits of skin with my teeth. I hadn’t done that for years; it’d been an anxious habit of mine. As soon as I realized I was doing it I yanked my hand away and hid it behind my back.

There was a knock on the door and it opened. A gangly man with slightly bulging eyes and a smattering of dark, unkempt facial hair walked in wearing a leather cut and ripped jeans with a bag thrown over his shoulder. He cast me an awkward smile before turning to face Jax.

“Black truck, right?” Rat asked. Jax had told him to look out for it.

“Yeah,” Jax muttered, distracted. He walked over to me and gave me a tight hug, kissing my forehead, nose, and mouth. “I’ll be back right away, I promise.”

“I just wish you didn’t have to go,” I mumbled into his chest. My only safety was leaving me and suddenly I felt very alone and frightened. I was sure my followers were going to show up at the house right after Jax left. I didn’t know Rat Boy. How could I be sure he’d keep me safe like Jax would?

“I know, baby,” Jax whispered. He turned to Rat. “Did you bring it?”

“Huh? Oh! Yeah, it’s in here.” Rat reached into his bag and handed something to Jax. I couldn’t see because Jax was in the way, but as soon as he turned around my heart did a funny little jump.

“Oh, Jax…” I reached out and took Cookie the Teddy Bear from him and brushed my fingers against my toy’s fuzzy face.

“He’ll definitely keep you safe while I’m away,” Jax said. “It’s a tried and tested method, right?”

“Right,” I chuckled. “Thank you.”

He gave me a grin, kissed me one more time, said goodbye to Rat Boy and headed out the door. A few minutes later his motorcycle started with a deep growl. Rat Boy turned to face me, his mouth open like he wanted to say something, but instead he closed it. Truthfully, I didn’t feel like making awkward conversation and I’d had a long day. Jax might have had club duties, but I didn’t, and bed was calling my name.

“Thank you for coming and staying here with me, I appreciate it,” I said, clutching Cookie tighter to me.

“Oh, no problem. Jax kind of told me what the deal was; I’ll make sure nothing happens, I swear.”

I smiled at him. I knew nothing about him except his name and affiliations, but I could tell he was a genuine guy; devoted and kind.

“I trust you. But look, I need to go lay down for awhile. Please, help yourself to some television or anything in the fridge. I’ve just had a really long day and it’s all starting to catch up to me…” I explained.

“Hey, I understand. Take your time, I’ll keep watch. You don’t have to worry about a thing anymore, ma’am. You’re under our protection now.”

For some strange reason, as I gave him one last thankful smile and walked back to the bedroom, his last words resonated in my mind: you’re under our protection now. I felt safe, like I had felt all those years as a young girl. When I was little, they weren’t scary bikers. They were all kind and gentle, willing to drop everything and help if you needed them. It really was all one big family. They looked out for their own and they were fiercely loyal. And I realized that during all those years I’d been away, I’d missed that feeling of togetherness, too. I’d missed the family I’d had in the Sons. I’d just gotten what I wanted all twisted up in my mind because I thought I had something better in Alex, but I didn’t. I didn’t have something better, only something quieter, something that conformed to social values and beliefs. It wasn’t that way with Jax, but maybe that was the best part about it.

I got into bed and pulled the covers up to my shoulders, squeezing Cookie to my front. Felix hopped up onto the bed and gave me a soft meow and Cookie an indifferent sniff.

“They’re not scary bikers,” I whispered to Felix while he curled up next to me on the bed. “They’re my family, they’ve always been.”