Motley Crew.

(Knacker Wagon Chronicles - IV)

Everyone, including Baye, watched intently as Sarge walked through his machinations. The booming sounds of the van speakers still reverberated. Baye felt disconnected from the scene before him, as if the windshield were a video screen with a stuck volume knob. Sarge would take a step, reach into a bag, and sprinkle fine grainy material on the ground. While most fell in a darkened clump, gentle winds drifted soft white strands across the road. Step, reach, spill. The sequence played itself out a dozen times. Baye saw Sarge's lips move, apparently mouthing words made inaudible by the speakers. Sarge had walked in a circle, completely around the location of the carcass. A quick tug at Sarge's trousers, and Baye saw a stream of fluid splash upon the gravel. A few seconds later, Sarge tugged again, paused, then marched to the van. No one inside had moved through the entire ritual. The driver's side door flung open and palpable relief broke the tension within the van.

"Everyone ready?" barked Sarge.
"All present, including Baye", said Rev.
"Carcass loaded?" asked Sarge.
The man sitting next to Baye piped up, "Loaded, and Charm was fed."
"Let's go." said Sarge. He gunned the engine and the van lurched forward.

Baye felt the man next him pressing upon him. "Hey cutie, don't mind the squeeze, I don't need to bother with niceties.", he said. Baye felt like slugging him. Better yet, he thought through the motions he would do... Left hand to back of head - grab hair and pull. Twist own body upward as right hand smashes into victim's forehead. Full weight pressed down so victim falls below bench. Push toward cage. Let Charm have a snack...
On second thought, Baye grinned and responded, "Don't I get romanced?"
The man laughed. "Spicy, aren't we?" he said. He adjusted his position away from Baye. "Tweed."
"Baye."
"Hamm", interjected the fellow next to Rev.
"Baye here didn't like his first day of school today," smirked Rev. "Said he wants to go home to mommy. He didn't even want to pet the little doggies."Rev paused for effect but Baye didn't rise to the insult. "Boys, looks like Baye needs some educating. He doesn't know how good he has it." Baye maintained his silence.

Tweed spoke, "So, Baye, how soft are you?" Tweed poked Baye in the thigh with his forefinger.
In a flash Baye spun on Tweed, grabbing the finger. He thrust it into Tweed's groin with his right hand. With his left arm wrapped around the back of Tweed's neck, Baye put his chin on his ear. "Soft enough?", he whispered.
"Boys, boys, boys!", shouted Rev. "Play nice!"
Baye relaxed his grip and settled back down.
"Alright, Baye, that's soft enough," said Tweed. Tweed didn't look at all the worse for wear. In fact, he looked calm. Baye sensed Tweed had toyed with him, that maybe his maneuver would be far less effective in a real fight. "We're gonna be buds for awhile. It's good to know wether a newbie is a wuss or wether he's gonna be worth something." Tweed smiled. Baye suddenly understood the hazards of gingivitis. Discoloration was the upside of Tweed's mouth. His breath would drop a pit bull. Alcohol didn't come strong enough for any sloshed woman to risk this foulness. Baye fought the revulsion, he felt his nostrils curdle.

Rev broke the infatuation. "What' they got on you Baye? It must be good. Only lifers are allowed on the knacker wagons. Only, life is short, Baye. Especially around here." Baye held his tongue.
"Eye for eye, right Baye? Life for life. Was it intentional?", pressed Rev.
"Yeah", grunted Baye.
"Same", said Rev. "Same with Sarge and Tweed, not so with Hamm and Pudgi." Rev looked upward. Baye waited for him to continue but Rev continued looking upward, as if pondering the patterns of stains on the ceiling. After a lengthy pause, Rev muttered, "Welcome aboard, Baye. Welcome to Nowhere."