Ain’t no use in goin’ home…
Jody’s got your girl and gone..
Your left, Your left, your left, right,BRAVO!!!
One helluva run, but Jake Kincaid wasglad it was over. It had taken nearly fourmonths, but he’d done it. He rode themodified Super Glide through every state inthe continental USA, shining the headlight outinto two oceans, a couple of the Great Lakesand the Gulf of Mexico. He followed theCaribou Highway up across Canada intoAlaska, and then rolled south of the border forsome cold beer, hot food and hotter women.The bike was worn, but he pushed on.Daytona looked like as good a place as anyfor a little R & R.
A dream run all right, but a dreamseasoned with a few nightmares. Themonths on the road alone, taking whatever thehighway offered or threatened, eatingwhenever, sleeping wherever, and working atday-labor places when he had to, wasparadise.
A few place brought trouble. That was tobe expected for a man riding far and alone.The worst were two men in San Louis Obispowho tried to take his motorcycle. Jakehandled them the only way he knew how, theway they taught him all those years ago.Quickly, quietly, permanently. He doubted ifthe bodies would ever be found, but if theywere, nothing tied them to him. They’dgiven him no choice, but it still left a badaftertaste. Just like in 1971, back in the Nam.
He shook off the memory and easedthrough the mid-day traffic cruising south onA1A. It was June, or so his watch told him. Hefigured he was a little late for Bike Week, tooearly for Biketoberfest, but just about right forcatching sweet little nurses and schoolteachers coming down for early summer sunand sand. Plus, he still had a couple of oldFlorida telephone numbers stashed deep inthe wallet. If they didn’t pan out, he coulddamn sure use the rest.
Just after 12:00 p.m. Jake eased over thecauseway and pulled into one of the decentchain hotels on the mainland side. Afterchecking in, he locked up the twin cam in sightof his room window and ran a chain throughthe frame, then around the base of a nearbylight pole. He snapped a heavy padlockthrough the links, unpacked the scoot, andcarted his stuff upstairs. After a ten minuteshower, he went to the window and checkedthe bike. Even after all those miles andmonths on the road she still looked good,sitting alone among the cookie cutterlook-a-likes that passed for cars.
He set the bike up to go long miles inplaces where shops and fancy aftermarketparts might be few and far between. Thatmeant staying close to stock, other than a setof wide open drag pipes and few tricks to letthe big motor breath. No bags, no windshield,and no bullshit chrome do-dads to vibrate off.Just a bitch bar to strap the pack onto. Jakepainted it the same color as his first Harley,back in the day. Then, they called it BrilliantRed. Now, Jake called it history.
Satisfied that the bike was resting safeand well, he crawled under the clean sheetsand slept for eight hours. By 10:00 P.M. hewas cruising the beachside looking for a jointfull of cold beer, loud music and beautifulsemi-unattached women. Hammer’slooked like just that kind of place.
He let the scooter rumble and growl alittle as he passed a cluster of wannabeRUBs on oriental cruisers, pulling intoHammer’s parking lot just ahead ofthem. He tucked the Harley near the front doorand locked up. The wannabes rolled in anddismounted. They waved and Jake wavedback. He left them arguing over who wasgoing lock up who’s expensive leatherjackets in who’s saddlebags.
Jake paid his cover and started tosqueeze by a big bouncer who looked like hecould handle himself. “Scuse me, sir,” thebouncer said. “You”re not carrying anyweapons, are ya? Knives, guns, rocketlaunchers?” He pointed to a sign above theentrance that prohibited everything.
Jake reached in his pocket and pulled outa small red-handled Swiss Army knife. “Iguess this is all. You wanna hold onto it forme?”
The bouncer gave Jake a look that startedout hard, then slowly turned into a smile. “Justdon’t trim nobody’s fingernails inhere, man.”
The bouncer looked them over thenlooked back at Jake. “Yer shittin’ me,right?”
Jake grinned and strode on into thesaloon. The place was packed. It looked likea convention full of nurses, teachers, andescaped soccer moms on the loose. Most ofthem looked to be twenty years younger thanJake, trying to be 18 instead of 30 to competewith the little MTV chickies. Most of the men inthe place seemed to be even younger, buzzcut, lean, and tough, probably soldiers.
Thirty three years ago he looked just likethat. Back then, he wa out having a last flingbefore going off to make the world safe fromcommunism. Now communism had justabout whipped itself and hisgeneration’s children were out having alast fling before shipping out to conquerterrorism. Only the bad guys seemed tochange.
Jake grabbed a couple of beers at the barand found a place to lean his back against thewall. He wasn’t crazy about the music,but as long as it wasn’t rap, he could livewith it. He knew from experience that she wasin there somewhere. All he had to do waswhat any good hunter does. Watch and wait.Pick your target and move in. The hardest partwas making them think it was their idea, thatthey picked you. It wasn’t fool proof. Hell,nothing worked every time. But all in all, Jakehadn’t spent too many lonely nights.
It took 40 minutes for him to spot her.She was hot all right, so hot she was leaving avapor trail and pissed off about God knowswhat. He watched her part the crowd onto thedance floor with a big red headed surfer boyfollowing in her wake, like a lost dog. Jake feltsorry for him. The kid was fighting way out ofhis weight.
She danced like she was getting paid forit. From where Jake was standing he couldsee the crowd back off and give her room.Everybody was trying to see her. Men werewatching and so were the women, but theywere damn sure seeing different things. Shelooked to be on the high side of twenty fivewith shoulder length dirty blonde hair that wasall curls. She had somehow packed 100pounds of what appeared to be ripe perfectioninto 5 feet 4 inches of serious trouble. Shewas wearing a tight tank top that ended justbelow her breasts and a pair of cut-off bluejeans so short they should’ve been onthe bouncer’s list of prohibited items,just below guns and knives.
When she slowed down enough to noticethat the surfer boy was having trouble keepingup, she smacked him in the chest with onelittle fist, turned, and stalked off the floor. Shewas looking back over her shoulder, runningher drill at the redhead when she ran tits-firstinto Jake Kincaid.
“Son-of-a-bitch!” She growled pushing offhis chest with both hands. She side-steppedhim and started past, but the crowd jammedher up. She turned on Jake in frustration, stillrunning her chops, her green eyes locked onhis. She was a little drunker than she looked.He crossed his arms and leaned closer tohear her above the crowd.
“Well, looky here,” she sneered. “I guessyou wanna buy me a drink and try to talk meout of my pants like all the rest of theseassholes, huh?”
Jake stared her up and down, did themath, and decided she was likely moretrouble than she was worth. As he turned hisback on her and leaned into the bar to replacea spilled beer, she started her swing.
She was halfway into the slap when thesurfer guy she’d been dancing withcaught her in a bear hug from behind andcarried her, kicking and screaming into thecrowd.
Jake scored another beer and moved toan open spot at the bar near the dance floor towatch the crowd. There were plenty of otherwomen in the place but something about thelittle blonde kept her on his mind. When helooked at her, the feeling was so strong itspooked him a little. Every now and then hecould catch sight of her from across the roomas she wreaked havoc on some poor dudewho tried to get close to her. Two fightsstarted over her and the bouncer and his hiredhelp finished them fast tossing the offendersinto the parking lot. Jake did that kind of workon occasion and never cared much for it. All inall, it looked like a typical night in paradise.He was thinking about other nights in otherparadises when he realized someone wastalking to him.
“Her name’s Katie. She ain’tusually this way.” He turned to see who hadmanaged to slip up on his left. It was the redheaded surfer boy.
Jake didn’t have room to step backso he moved in close. “You and me gonnahave problems tonight?”
The surfer eased his left hand aroundfrom the bar and held out a long neck. “Noproblems. This what you’redrinkin’?”
Jake took the bottle andset it on the bar beside his own full one. Thekid continued, “I’m her cousin, not herold man. The beer’s from her.She’s out lookin’ to get into trouble.She asked me to keep her from having toomuch fun. She’s wondering why youhaven’t run at her. Sent me over to ask.”
“You always do what she says?”
“Most guys do. She’s kinda used toit.”
Jake looked at the kid. Hard to read, sixfeet of gym muscle, no attitude, maybe tough,maybe not. “Tell her she’s too highmaintenance for me.
“I’m kinda glad to hear you say that.She’s been a little crazy since herhusband’s Reserve Unit got activatedafter 9/11. He’s been gone most of thetime since then. Afghanistan, now Iraq.”
“Special Forces?” Jake asked,remembering his own unit.
“Green Berets,” the surfer nodded. “I hateto see it happen. Her going out on him, Imean. It’d have to suck to be over theredoing that shit and have somebody back herebangin’ your ol’ lady. But, hey,she’s family and he’s not. Whatshe wants to do is her business long as shedon’t get hurt. She hasn’t brokenover yet but it’s gonna be soon.” Helooked at Jake. “I guess she could do worsethan you.”
Jake didn’t say anything. He lookedaround the place trying to spot the girl. Hefinally saw her on the far side of the dancefloor talking to one of the RUBs. When helooked back, the kid was still talking.
“I guess she loves him or it would’vealready happened,” the kid was saying.”She’s been scared and lonely for damnnear two years. Wears you down, you know?”
Jake looked at the surfer. “My guess isher old man probably knows a little moreabout what it’s like to be scared andlonely than Katie does. Tell her to suck it up.”
The kid shrugged and started to turnaway. He stopped and looked toward the farside of the bar. Through the smoke, Jakecould see her bouncing from one of thewannabes to another, trying to dance with allfour at once. Their hands were all over herand she didn’t look like it bothered hermuch.
“Looks like you missed your chance,brother,” the kid said.
“Yeah,” Jake agreed. “Well, I’ll justhave to learn to live with it.” The surferlaughed into his beer bottle and moved backinto the crowd toward the girl and her fourdance partners.
Jake rubbed the tattoo on the inside of his left forearm and thought back, thirty one years, to a letter he’d received from another young girl who’d spent too much time scared and alone. Even after all that time, each word still burned, written on his soul like the tattoo on his arm. Jake downed the last of his beer, tossed a few bills on the bar and headed for the door. Katie met him halfway there.
Her game plan had changed. She cocked her pretty head to the side and smiled, running a finger down the middle of his chest. This time, she was acting drunker than she was. “Bobby tells me you got scars older than me.” She moved in close, putting her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him. “What do you say we go back to my room and you can show ’em to me.”
“You’ll need to get a note from your momma sayin’ it’s OK,” Jake said, just a shade shy of pissed off. “Or maybe one from your ol’ man.”
All the bullshit and bravado faded away and there was nothing left but a pair of sad green eyes staring into his. “Just dance with me, OK? Just a dance.” Her grip on his neck relaxed and she pulled her body far enough away from his to get some air between them. For a second, she thought he was going to turn and walk away. “Please don’t leave me standing here looking like a fool.”
The music was slow and he swept her onto the crowded floor. There wasn’t much room to move and she pressed her cheek into his chest and let him guide her. The song was sad but not sad enough to account for the tears he saw slipping down her face as they moved among the couples. Jake didn’t know what to say so he just held her and waited.
The song ended and another began, a little faster than the first but still slow enough to hold each other close while they moved to the beat. She looked up at him and he smiled.
“Don’t you laugh at me.” She said wiping at her cheeks. She tried to smileand it only half worked. “Iím not a bitch and I’m not slut. I’ve just got some problems to work through.”
Jake looked into her eyes. “That kid you’re runnin’ with kinda filled me in on what your problems are.”
“You can solve them for me,” She said, looking up from behind those sad eyes. “At least for tonight, you can.”
Jake shook his head. “I can’t help you, sweetheart,” he said. “And none of these other boys can either.”
The music moved them along. She shook her head. “I don’t understand you. I mean every guy in this bar would give a year of his life just to have the chance to sleep with me. I practically give myself to you and you turn me down cold. Last time I checked, I wasn’t bad lookin’, and you don’t exactly strike me as a choir boy.”
Jake looked into those eyes and thought about what it would be like to be half-a-world away from her, if she belonged to him. He could feel the heat from her as she moved against him, pulling him in, demanding that he take her. It had been a long time since a woman had moved him like this.
Suddenly she laughed. “You’re married! That’s what it is! You’re true blue. That’s why you haven’t hit on me or any of the other little bitches in this dump.”
Jake put his arm around her pulling her close against him. He kissed her so hard and so deep she felt her knees weaken. When he broke the kiss he said, “I’m not married and the only woman in this place worth havin’ is you.” He let her go. “Unfortunately, you’re the only woman in this place I can’t have.”
“How can you kiss me that way and then tell me you don’t want me?”
Jake shook off the feeling of the kiss. “Cause my name ain’t Jody, that’s why.”
Suddenly she was pissed all over again. “I don’t give a shit what your name is. I don’t even wanta know.” She tried to pull free of him. “Fuck you! I’ve had all the bull shit I can handle. I’m gonna get laid tonight, and if you don’t want to do it, I’ll find somebody who will. Those biker guys I was with earlier will be real glad to see me.”
I don’t think so.” Jake looked into her eyes. There was something about her that made him want her as bad as he’d ever wanted any woman. It went beyond just being horny, beyond lust. It was something primal, something that stirred itself down in that nasty, animal part of the brain that he pretended wasn’t there. In another time and place, in another world, he would have already mounted her. Even in this place and in this time, something made him want to sweep the table clear of glasses and bottles and take her right there. Something so strong that it almost made him not give a damn about honor or obligation or anything else.
Jake looked again at the tattoo. It was more than 30 years old now, and faded from lotsa miles in the sun, but he still remembered what it meant. Her husband, the boy humping his ruck in that Iraqi hellhole, was a brother. And even though he’d never met him, he owed him. And so Jake would do what he could to protect the woman he’d left behind, even from herself.
“I donít think so,” he said again, as if to himself. “I’m takin’ you outta here. Where’s your friend?”
“Who…Bobby?:” She looked around the bar. “I don’t see him. He was having words with one of those biker boys when I came over to dance with you. He didn’t like the way that big one touched me.”
Jake did a quick 360. No RUBs and no surfer boy. Suddenly, Jake had a bad feeling. “Let’s go,” he said. He took her by the hand again and started moving through the crowd toward the exit. It took him a while to push his way through the door.
He heard it even before he got outside. Bottles breaking and a bunch of guys making fighting noises. That couldn’t be good. He looked at the big bouncer who hadn’t seemed to notice. “You on break or what?” he asked nodding toward the commotion.
“I’d like to help, dude, but once it’s outside the club, it ain’t my business. House rules. And, no offense, but you look a little old to be riding to the rescue, yourself. You know what I’m sayin’?.”
Jake didn’t waste time arguing. He pushed through the door and out onto the lot. The four tough guys were doing a respectable job of beating the redheaded surfer boy to a bloody bag of bones. The little blonde charged past him and began doing her best to kick somebody in the balls. Jake was halfway to them, wondering what the hell he was getting himself into, when one of the men back handed the girl across the mouth and put her ass-first onto the concrete. He started toward her when Jake reached him.
He was easy. He didn’t know Jake was in the world until he found himself doubled-up over the saddle of one of the Japanese cruisers, puking up his front teeth. The other three stopped working on the surfer and turned on Jake. One of them, a bald headed fat-ass with a messed up comb-over, looked at his bloody friend and backed off immediately, hands up, palm out, shaking his head like he wanted no part of what was coming. As he moved toward his bike, the other two stepped up.
Jake had seen posers like these before. Probably ex college football heroes, now ten years past their glory days, bored with their wives and jobs, riding pretend motorcycles to escape their pretend lives by trying to be somebody they could never measure up to. Midlife crisis, with a vengeance.
“You fucked up old man,” the biggest one said, posturing and flexing big shoulders above a soft gut. “Now we gonna kick your sorry ass.”
“Shutdafuckup!” Jake snapped, his voice a low growl. He motioned toward the first punk who was still dripping blood all over his fake V-Twin. “You ain’t gonna do shit but end up like your friend, fat man. I won’t go down easy like the kid or the little girl.” Jake started walking toward the two men.
The big man who had done all the talking took a step back. Apparently he liked beating the piss out of folks but wasn’t much interested in any real fighting. “Fuck this,” he said. “There’ll be a better time.” The other one followed his lead and they both started back-peddling toward their bikes.
They straddled their bikes and cranked up. The bleeder got on his. That was three. The little alarm in Jake’s head went off too late as he realized he’d lost track of the one with the bad hairdo. Jake looked around just in time to see him coming up from behind his motorcycle dragging a big revolver out of his saddlebag.
He lifted the gun across the bike and lined it up on Jake. He could see the cylinder turn as the dumbass cocked the hammer.
“Yer done, motherfucker!” he said, hisvoice high and shaky. The other two shutdown, climbed off their tin can cruisers andstarted toward Jake, moving around to wherethe one with the gun was standing.
“Looks like that better-time is now, friend.”The big bellied one sneered. It was prettyclear the others looked to him as the leader.”You hurt Donnie real bad and we aint about tolet that go.”
“That’s right,” said the one holdingthe gun. “Now, we’re gonna hurt youbad.”
Suddenly the bouncer stepped out of theshadows from behind a big Silverado pickuptruck and brought an aluminum ball bat downacross the gunman’s forearm. Jakeheard the crunch as the bones broke. Thecocked pistol fell to the ground without goingoff. He started to move in but the bouncerdidn’t need any help. He had alreadystepped past to another man and tagged himacross the backs of his thighs, dropping himon the pavement as he brought the bat aroundand connected with the soft gut of the leader.Again, the last man started to back off, holdingonto his broken forearm and begging. Thebouncer stepped in close and jabbed the fatend of the bat twice into his solar plexis. Hewent to all fours and the bouncer kicked himsquare in the ass, putting him on his facebeside his friends. The only one still standingwas Donnie the bleeder, and he already hadall he wanted.
“I guess your break’s over, huh??Jake said as the bouncer scooped up the biggun and eased the hammer down.
“Don’t go all warm and fuzzy on me,just cause I saved your ass.”
Jake grinned. “I thought I was doing prettygood.”
“Well,” the bouncer smiled back, “youmighta been ahead on points going into thatlast round, but I don’t think you’dhave lasted to the bell.” He waved the big gunfor emphasis.
Katie brought them out of it. “How’bout you two stop patting each other onthe ass long enough to give me some helphere. I think he needs an ambulance.” Shewas bending over the Surfer, trying to stopbleeding from more places than she hadhands.
The bouncer pulled a cell pone off his beltand started punching numbers. He saidsomething into the phone then snapped itshut. “Ambulance is on the way. No doubtthey’ll have the cops meet ’em.They almost always do for fights down here.”He shouldered the bat and turned back towardthe entrance to the bar. “I need to get backinside before I lose my job,” He said over hisshoulder. “What you tell the cops is up to you.”He stuck their big revolver down the back ofhis pants. “Souvenir,” he said and walkedback into the bar.
Photo by
By the time paramedics showed upescorted by some of Daytona’s Finest,three of the RUBs had crawled onto their fakeHarleys and slunk off into the night with thebusted up gunslinger riding bitch. Themedics told the surfer he’d need stitchesand a hole bunch of X-rays to see what was orwasn’t broken. They loaded him up andtook off for the hospital while Katie wasexplaining to the cops what had happened.Once they seemed satisfied that Jakehadn’t somehow caused all themayhem, they loaded up and left too.
Jake told Katie she was too drunk to driveand loaded her on the back of his scooter for afast trip across town to the Emergency Room.He waited outside the E.R. while she checkedon her cousin. An hour later she came backout and said they’d be keeping himovernight for stitches, tests, and observation.
“Let’s get some breakfast,” Jakesaid.
Over steak and eggs, she laid it out forhim. How she had hit the ground running rightout of school, and had gone wild for a fewyears before marrying her childhoodsweetheart. She said they’d just settledin to play house and got ready for kids whenall this war stuff came up. Suddenly, her lifewas upside down. Her old man had shippedout shortly after 9/11 when his Army Reserveunit got activated and deployed to Afghanistan.She had only seen him for a few weeks afterthat and then he shipped out to Iraq. She saidIt felt like she was watching her youth slipaway with no one in her bed or in her life. Shewas feeling sorry for herself and plenty pissedoff at her husband for leaving her alone andscared.
If you think he’s not lonely and afraidover there, your wrong,” Jake said from behindhis coffee cup. “I know. I’ve been there.It ain’t like playin’ cowboys andIndians. It’s not a game. You watch yourfriends die. You kill people. It’s bad.”
“It was his dream, not mine. It’swhat he wanted to do,” she said. “I neverbargained for this. Never knowing if he’sdead or hurt. I just want things to be like theywere. I need to feel like I used to. Even ifit’s just for a little while.” Her hand stoleacross the table covering his. “You might aswell take me. You won me fair and square.”
Jake laughed. “Technically, I think thebouncer won you fair and square with thatbaseball bat.” She smiled again as he tookher hand and looked into her eyes. She wasbeautiful, and on the knife edge of beingbroken. “Your old man ever tell you who’Jody’ is?” he asked. She shookher head and he told her.
He told her about how it was, five years orso before she was even born, when he hadbeen a young soldier in training. He told herabout the guys who stayed at home dodgingthe draft or getting college deferments to stayout of the war while he and his buddies werebeing trained to fight and die in the jungles ofViet Nam. He went on about how, when thewives and sweethearts back home got boredor couldn’t stand the strain of being leftall alone, there always seemed to be one ofthese chicken-shit bastards around with akind word and a shoulder to cry on. Prettysoon, they were comforting them right out oftheir knickers and into bed.
“When we were in training, the D.I.scalled those guys ‘Jodys’. Thename didn’t really matter. Coulda just aseasy been something else. But the drillsergeants knew we had to start hatingsomething, so they could teach us to redirectthat anger toward the enemy. They gave usJody.”
Jake told her how it was when he’dgone off to war with a brand new Ranger Taband Green Beret, just doing his best to stayalive from one day to the next. He told herabout the ‘Dear John’ letters, aboutbetrayal, and about the broken dreams andbroken hearts. And finally, about the Jodymotherfucker that had taken his Gwenniewhile he and his buddies were fighting fortheir lives.
“That boy you’re married towasn’t even born when I was over there,but he’s my brother just the same. Iknow better than to sleep with his woman justbecause I can.” For a moment, he thoughthe’d gotten through. Then he saw hereyes harden and he knew he’d lost her.
“Let me see if I understand this,” shebegan, the bitterness slipping back into hervoice. “It’s all about some macho code?Is that it?”
“Well, what happens next time? You doknow there’s gonna be a next time,don’t you? I mean when your notaround?”
“Baby, thatís not my problem.î Jake toldher. ìIíll be long gone and far away. Just likeyour old man. Thatís when you get to decidewho you are.î
He paid the tab, tipped the tired bluehaired waitress more than the meal wasworth, and loaded Katie back onto the Harley.She seemed to hang on a little tighter as heblasted back across the causeway to herhotel. He parked out front under thebreezeway and locked up. When he showedthe desk clerk Katie’s key and a tendollar bill, he agreed to let him leave the bikewhere it was.
Katie had paid a chunk of change for theroom. The bed was about the size of a smallswimming pool and sliding glass doorsopened onto a balcony over looking the ocean.He put her to bed and started to leave. Sheasked him to stay with her. She said shecouldn’t face being alone again tonight.She made one final try at convincing him to getinto the huge bed beside her. She’dnever know how close she came tosucceeding. He sat beside her and held heragainst him. She cried softly for a while,maybe thinking of her husband or maybe juststill feeling sorry for herself. Finally, he kissedher forehead and promised to stay until shewoke up if shed try to sleep. She made himpromise twice more, then closed her eyes.
After he was sure she was sleeping, Jakegot a couple of the red headed kid’sbeers from the small refrigerator and walkedout onto the balcony. He sat in a plastic chairand twisted off the tops. There was justenough room for him to stretch his legs outonto the railing. He sat back, sipped the beer,and watched the ocean as the sky turned pinksomewhere over Africa.
He thought again of the ‘Jody’poem. It was just a few verses he’dbeen forced to learn in high school. Jake hadbeen more into auto shop than poetry butsomething about this one had resonated. HisEnglish teacher told him it was written 300years ago by one of the Cavalier poets,whoever the hell they were, as he prepared toleave his woman and march into battle.
He’d given a copy of the poem toGwen when he’d shipped out in 1970.Like Katie, she hadn’t been able tounderstand how her man could just leave herand go to war. He’d thought the poemwould explain it better than he ever could. Ayear later, she’d sent it back to himinside the folded pages of a ‘DearJohn’ letter after she found her own Jody.
He crossed the room and found a penand note pad near the telephone. He carefullywrote the last lines of the poem on the topsheet and placed the pad on the pillow besideher. Then, even though he promised to stay,he left her there. It wasn’t the firstpromise he’d broken to a woman, but itwas one of the hardest. He knew hecouldn’t resist her again. He had toleave.
Ain’t no use in lookin’back…
Jodys got your Cadillac.
Ain’t no use in goin’ home.
Jodys got your girl and gone.
Your left, Your left, your left, right, BRAVO!!!
Your left, Your left, your left, right,BRAVO!!!
