We're Going Though Changes

We fly on Raven's wings down, down, from mountain high to valley low to the small town of Garrett, Maryland in the spring of 2002. It may have been almost thirteen years since we last walked the streets of Garrett or it might feel as if it were just yesterday. Many of our heroes of the 1980s have left Garrett for greener pastures in the city and beyond. Yet one of the heroes who remain is Jerry Baker. We see his large distinctive form through windows at Doctor Carla Greer's medical practice just off the main street.

Jerry was worried even if he tried not to show it, as he paced the waiting room at Doc Greer’s office. It wasn’t like Veronica to be ill, ever. Yet she felt like hot garbage particularly in the morning lately. It had been over a month. She insisted she’d go to the Docs when she was less busy with work. At least Veronica had health insurance from the radio station. They couldn’t have their multi award-winning radio host, one who was super popular with the younger demographic ill. On the other hand, Jerry was still washing cars at the McKenzie Motors lot and doing relief tow truck driving to keep him on the corporate healthcare plan. Melanie, his step mum was super smart like that. Though it was as he’d sagely put it when Melanie offered him a full-time gig “It says McKenzie Motors up there not McKenzie and Baker” By that he meant that his brother Ben was far more qualified to one day run the place and run it on his own. Ben was a charming son of a gun, with a heart of gold. He never sold someone a car they couldn’t afford. He’d find something good and used for almost any price point. It was hard to imagine the other Garrett where McKenzie Motors had gone bust. It was so much part of not only the family's lives, but the lives of everyone in Garrett county.

“Jerry get in here!” Veronica called from the Doc’s exam room, and Jerry bolted down the hall much as he had in his high school football glory days. This time not blocking for Scarlet, his future sister in law.

Veronica looked shocked and he resisted doing something dumb like hitting the bearer of the news, in this case, the doctor. Though in this case, Jerry had seen Carla Greer work out at the ALTA gym and figured she could floor him with ease. Or kick him clear across the room. She’d been in the Army. Jerry also didn’t want to be liable for her medical bills and have to pay up for loss of earnings. He’d learned this while training to be a licensed bouncer. "Reasonable" force was key.

Veronica reached for his hand. “Jerry, I'm pregnant.”

Now it was Jerry’s turn to be shocked. “And it’s mine?” He finally reached that conclusion. There had been no one else but Veronica for him since high school.

Veronica nodded patiently. “The Doc thinks its twins.”

Then Jerry had almost fainted. Carla Greer had rushed to prop him up. As expected she was incredibly strong.

There had been so much joy and elation. Celebrating the news with the family and then the boys and Shannon coming back to town drinking really old scotch and smoking cigars. Hanging out at Mitch’s garage. Yet there was that nagging doubt in Jerry’s mind: how was he going to pay for all this? Kids were going to need a home, they couldn’t just live in Jerry’s van. Not in the long term, also probably not in Trade Winds, even if it was far nicer in this Garrett.

Then Jerry had been driving over to the McKenzie place after training at the ALTA gym with his dad and Ben, and there was a for-sale sign on the front lawn of his old childhood home. The one Karl had sold when he’d divorced Jerry’s Mum. It was like a sign, well duh it was a literal sign, Jerry thought to himself. The old Baker place was just a few streets from Somerset Drive. A good neighbourhood, in this Garrett. White picket fences and well maintained older houses. Close to his folks, to Ben and Scarlet and to Mitch and Charlie. It was perfect. Unfortunately, Jerry’s bank balance was seriously lacking.

Jerry had worked all sorts of jobs since he had been a teenager. He had been a bouncer, a musician, a logger, a repo man, a roadie, tended bar, washed cars, worked construction, done PI surveillance work, and a spot of bounty hunting for Geoff from *Trade Winds*. He particularly enjoyed surveillance as Jerry was a great believer in *"Good things coming to those who wait”*. Yet none of them had ever made decent money, so he’d begun working several gigs at once. Jerry knew he needed something stable, so his kids would actually see him. Jerry had known two versions of his father Karl Baker. The current one, the guy who went to AA, worked his problems out sitting in a church basement or in the boxing ring, was the best father by far. He showed up when you needed him. You always knew where he’d be, you never needed to go from bar to bar, or drinking buddies couch to couch to find him. During business hours he was in the Service Department at McKenzie motors. Then he was at the gym getting troubled kids on the right path, or helping out someone he mentored from AA. Jerry found himself with quite the example to live up to.

Jerry reluctantly left Veronica under the care of her aunt and his family, as he had a shift at the county's only biker bar *The Rusty Sprocket.* The owner had been nice enough to pay him to double the usual salary to work the bar and make sure there was no trouble tonight. Sometimes rival biker clubs felt they needed to settle their beef here. So Jerry served as mostly a visual deterrent. The bar was quiet, some old rock playing on the jukebox. Then in through the door walked two of the most decorated military veterans and law officers Garrett had ever seen, Police Chief Ted Simmonds and Director Gene Tyler of the FBI.

“Three pints of Pottsville Porter please Jerry.” The Police Chief in civilian clothes sat at the bar, with the grey-haired Fed of a similar age at his side.

“Thanks, but I’m working. Gotta keep a clear head.”

The Chief shook his head, *same old Jerry* as Tyler stuck a twenty in the tip jar. “Susan is behind us bud,” Gene explained patiently. Jerry placed the third glass of the black dark brewed porter on the bar top.

“And mighty thirsty, I might add.”

The weird British aunt of Heather Jones appeared in the bar. Immaculately dressed even for going to a biker dive bar, in a tailored leather jacket with a buckle at the collar and waist and zips at angles. Over motorcycle breeches in a heavy water-resistant fabric. Susan MacLeod always made an entrance. She was one freaky old lady. Jerry didn’t recall her showing any signs of aging in the entire time he'd known her. Many of the clientele enjoyed her riding stories. Susan was one of the most respected riders who drank here. All the old guys adored her. They bought more beer so they could stay a while longer and listen to them.

Jerry had a feeling that he would be making easy money tonight. There wouldn't be any trouble with the three of them supporting the bar, also they always tipped well. Jerry could easily make a few hundred bucks from them in tips alone. Hopefully, that could pay for something for the babies.

Later in the evening, Susan was holding court in a booth at the back of the bar. Also, a friendly game of poker had broken out in the backroom between the pool tables. Over the course of the evening, they’d been joined by many notable figures from Garrett, for a beer or two. Sarge and Yuriko, who were like family to Jerry. Shannon’s father, Sean Locke had stopped by with her mother Erin.

“You look like you’ve something on your mind Jerry." Director Tyler, ever the student of human nature, inquired.

“I thought as the bartender you were supposed to tell me your problems.” Jerry retorted.

“Just here hanging out with some old Nam buddies, and checking in on Susan for Heather.” Tyler assured, taking a pull on his beer.

“Well I’ve got this employment problem, you might have heard Veronica and I are expecting twins.” Jerry wiped down the bar top half-heartedly.

“I did, congratulations." The old fed smiled.

“So I need to think about getting a more stable job. Pick up the slack while Ronnie is on maternity.” Jerry explained solemnly, as Ted Simmons sat back at the bar after passing Susan a fresh beer. “We need to get a mortgage as our place isn’t big enough. I’ve a place in mind, I just don't want to get laughed out of the bank.” Jerry continued. His family were if anything too generous. He wanted to stand on his own two feet, he was almost thirty after all.

“Well, I became an officer in the army to support my son, Ray, after he was born. Then the war in Vietnam happened.” Gene explained with a shrug.

“I don’t really like a lot of foreign food.” Jerry admitted.

Ted Simmonds took a breath. “You know Jerry, I've seen how you handle trouble around here, when you're bouncing.”

Jerry looked puzzled by the compliment.

“You’re work with Geoff doing surveillance and bail enforcement. Repos for the McKenzie’s finance company. I might have something along those lines that pays pretty good. Plus you could keep working some of your gigs on the side too. I know kids are expensive.” Ted explained, and Gene Tyler gave him a certain look. If this were an episode of *Pinky and the Brain,* Tyler would have asked if you're *pondering what I’m pondering.*

“The State Police are hiring, and well we’d put in a good word for you."

Jerry laughed long and loud, though the two older men were smiling they didn’t seem to be joking. That’s what made it funnier. “Me a state trooper? A Maryland County-Mountie?” There were tears in his eyes.

“Starting salary is forty thousand bucks a year, plus benefits, and overtime, and like Ted says you can work some gigs on the side with approval.”

No, the FBI Director wasn’t kidding.

Then Jerry thought about it again. He’d been the guy that was this close to pulling the trigger on Rugen all those years ago. That corrupt bastard had made him so mad. Poncing around Garrett on his dumb loud motorcycle thinking he was above the law, almost killing Ben, killing his stepmom, well *now* stepmom. Only Shannon’s timely intervention being enough to stop him from going full dark side.

Then Jerry thought about it again. Maybe it wasn’t so ridiculous. Maybe this was a way he could earn the paycheck he needed to support his family and make a difference. It wasn’t like two of his old school friends weren't already in law enforcement. Ricky Lewis was a Deputy US Marshal and Heather Jones was with the Tyler's FBI big brain division who could tell you what you were thinking before you thought it.

Being a superhero on the side didn’t pay, even if he felt obligated to go to the city and help Super-Butts whenever he could. Sucks to be on your own even if you're waging a one Ro-Butt war against crime and corruption. Super looting was unfortunately out. All the other Autobots and Keystones pitched in with the super-heroics too, whenever they could. They all had their set of unique abilities.

Jerry realised that he should talk over this opportunity with his fiancée, his brother, and other friends who were still in town. That was when they stopped laughing at the idea. Maybe he could give Ronnie and the kids the kind of life they deserved. He had vowed long ago to protect Veronica Kirkshaw. Now he vowed the same for their unborn children.