just a part of who I was, but nothing could stop that restless feeling I felt stirring in my gut. More times than not, my brothers and I found ourselves in a heap of trouble, and there was nothing worse than seeing that look of disappointment in my father’s eyes when we screwed up. Unfortunately, it happened a lot; but it didn’t prevent us from doing it time and time again, knowing our father would always be there to help pull us out of trouble… until the day he wasn’t.
When my father died, a part of me died with him, and the direction of my life changed forever. As I grew older, I always tried to remember what he said about being a strong man… a good man. In the life I’ve lived, I have made my mistakes—lots of them—but I’ve never had a problem admitting when I fucked up. The hard part wasn’t learning from the mistakes I’d made; it was finding a way to fix them.
Sophomore Year of High School
I was fourteen when my father shocked us all by dying of a massive heart attack. His death damn near destroyed our family, ending the safe and secure world I’d always known. My mother hadn’t worked in years, making it difficult for her to find a job that could sustain the life we’d grown accustomed to. When she’d finally managed to find a few odd jobs, it just wasn’t enough, and I was overcome with the need to protect my mother and brothers. I loved them and couldn’t stand to see the worry in their eyes. I knew I had to do something, anything to make things better for them. I started mowing lawns and running the local paper route, helping out the only way I knew how. I was doing all I could, and we were still barely able to pay our bills. That’s when my Uncle Saul stepped in, helping out in a way I couldn’t.
Until then, I really didn’t know much about my uncle, other than he was the president of some motorcycle club. I didn't know why we never spent time with him or his family, but I’d gotten the impression a long time ago that it had something to do with my mother. A look of disgust would cross her face whenever my dad mentioned his brother’s name or his club, and eventually, he just stopped talking about him altogether. It was obvious to all of us she didn’t care for him or what he represented, but at the time, she was in no position to turn down his offer to help. I never did understand her distaste for him. I liked Saul from the start. I could see my father when I looked into his eyes or heard his voice, reminding me of that secure feeling I had whenever my dad was around. I felt a pull to my uncle, and each time he’d come by the house, I’d stare out the window and watch as he pulled up on his motorcycle. There was a mystery to him that intrigued me, making me want to know more about his life and his club that existed on the outside of town.
Years passed, and even though I knew my mother wouldn’t approve, I asked my uncle if he could help me find a more substantial job, thinking the money would help out with the bills. I’d heard him talking about a house renovation the club was doing for one of their members, and since I was good with my hands, I hoped he’d be able to find a place for me. When I brought it up to Uncle Saul, I figured he would say no because of my age, but I knew I had my father’s build which made me look older than I really was, so I took a chance. At first he hesitated, but after I explained it would really help us out and promised to keep up my grades up at school, he finally agreed. It didn’t take me long to realize the job I so desperately wanted wasn’t exactly what I thought it would be. Since I was much younger than any of the club members, they had me doing all the grunt work that they didn’t want to do themselves. I’d never worked harder in my life, but I liked being there, working with all of those men my