A long time ago.
Back then, he had been younger.
Much younger.
And far more dangerous than anyone looking at him now would have believed.
He reached into his jacket and touched something inside the pocket.
A small brass key.
He closed his fingers around it.
Then let go.
Across the diner, Brandon was still talking.
“Discipline,” he said. “That's what separates professionals from amateurs.”
Walter looked toward him.
For just a second, their eyes met.
Brandon noticed.
“What?”
Walter shook his head.
“Nothing.”
Brandon leaned back.
“You staring at me?”
Lily stopped what she was doing.
The diner became quieter.
Walter looked at him calmly.
“No.”
Brandon smiled.
“You were.”
Walter took another sip of coffee.
“I was looking past you.”
Kyle laughed nervously.
Brandon didn't.
He stared at Walter.
Then he smiled.
“Old man’s got jokes.”
Walter lowered his cup.
“Sometimes.”
Brandon turned back toward his friends.
The moment passed.
But Walter knew something the others didn't.
The night had changed.
And before it was over, Brandon Cole was going to learn that knowing how to hurt somebody was not the same thing as knowing how to fight.
A Small Mistake
The burgers arrived ten minutes later.
Lily placed the plates on the table.
“Anything else?”
“No,” Brandon said.
Then he looked at his burger.
His smile disappeared.
“Hold on.”
Lily paused.
“What?”
“I asked for no onions.”
Lily looked at her order pad.
“You said extra bacon.”
“I said no onions.”
“You didn't.”
Brandon picked up the top bun.
“There are onions.”
Kyle leaned over.
“Just take them off.”
Brandon ignored him.
“I'm not paying for something I didn't order.”
Lily remained calm.
“I can have the kitchen remake it.”
“How long?”
“About ten minutes.”
Brandon laughed.
“Ten minutes?”
“The kitchen is still open.”
“You expect me to wait ten minutes because somebody can't listen?”
Lily's cheeks flushed.
“I wrote down exactly what you said.”
Brandon looked at the paper in her hand.
Then at her.
“You calling me a liar?”
“No.”
“Sounds like it.”
Kyle sighed.
“Brandon, man. It's onions.”
Brandon's jaw tightened.
He wanted the room to know he was in control.
Walter could see it.
He had seen men like Brandon before. Men who weren't necessarily cruel when nobody challenged them, but who couldn't tolerate the feeling of being smaller than someone else.
Lily quietly took the plate.
“I'll have it remade.”
Brandon leaned back.
“Thank you.”
She walked away.
Walter watched her disappear through the kitchen doors.
Then he looked down at his pecan pie.
He hadn't eaten it.
He had lost his appetite.
At the counter, the college students whispered to each other.
One of them glanced at Brandon.
“Is that guy always like that?”
Her friend shrugged.
“Apparently.”
Brandon heard them.
He turned.
“What was that?”
The girls immediately looked down.
“Nothing.”
“That's what I thought.”
Kyle shifted uncomfortably.
“Let it go.”
Brandon smiled.
“I'm not doing anything.”
Walter finally spoke.
“That's usually how it starts.”
Brandon turned toward the back booth.
“What?”
Walter looked up.
“Nothing.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because there's nothing to say.”
Brandon stood.
The chair scraped loudly across the floor.
Kyle grabbed his wrist.
“Sit down.”
Brandon pulled away.
“I'm just talking.”
He walked toward the back.
Lily appeared from the kitchen.
“Mr. Cole—”
Brandon raised one hand.
“Relax.”
He stopped beside Walter's booth.
Up close, the difference between them was obvious.
Brandon was young, athletic, confident.
Walter looked old.
His jacket was worn at the elbows.
His boots had been polished too many times.
His hands were scarred.
Brandon glanced at the empty seat across from him.
“You mind?”
Walter shook his head.
Brandon sat.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Rain tapped against the windows.
The radio played softly.
Finally Brandon said, “You got a problem with me?”
“No.”
“You keep watching me.”
Walter looked at him.
“I watch everyone.”
“Why?”
“Habit.”
“What kind of habit?”
Walter smiled.
“Old one.”
Brandon leaned forward.
“You ever train?”
Walter's eyes briefly moved toward Brandon's black belt.
“Once.”
“Once?”
“A long time ago.”
“What?”
“Fighting.”
Brandon laughed.
“Yeah?”
Walter nodded.
“What style?”
Walter took his time answering.
“Whatever worked.”
Brandon's smile faded slightly.
“That doesn't mean anything.”
“It means I wasn't trying to win trophies.”
Kyle had followed them.
He stood a few feet away.
“Brandon.”
Brandon ignored him.
“You think you're tough?”
Walter shook his head.
“No.”
Brandon smiled.
“Good.”
Walter looked at him.
“I think I'm old.”
That answer somehow made Brandon more uncomfortable than an insult would have.
Lily approached carefully.
“Your burger is ready.”
Brandon stood.
“Good.”
He walked away.
Before returning to his table, he glanced over his shoulder.
Walter was already drinking his coffee again.
As if the conversation had never happened.
Brandon hated that.
He hated being ignored.
But he couldn't explain why.