Beerculees

Zackary Richards

Beerculees!

As a kid, my brother had a cherubic face and following puberty, this became horrifically deceiving because right below that very pretty face was considerable upper body strength and a ‘take no shit from anybody’ attitude.

Growing up on the streets of the Bronx that upper body strength came in handy as you will see in some of the stories presented later in this book. But first I want to present the Beerculees I know and love.

I don’t want to reveal his real name because he lives a quiet life and wants to keep it that way. In the early stages of this book, I considered referring to my brother as Hercules after the handsome and powerful ancient god. But having seen an episode of How I Meet Your Mother, I decided to go with the more accurate title of “Beerculees.”

You will learn why soon enough.

The thing about Beerculees is not only is he very strong, he is also quick witted and a lot of fun. 

   During the Christmas holidays, we got together and he told me what’s been going on in his life. It turns out he’s the facilities manager of some Catholic Diocese’s locale and his job is to make sure everything runs properly. In addition, he chauffeurs the nuns around when they travel or shop.

   He explained that on a recent outing to Manhattan he was accompanied by a young nun assigned to purchase new furniture. The Diocese had made a deal with some lower Manhattan outlet and he was driving her there.

   If you’ve ever been to Manhattan you know how crazy the traffic is, and if you’ve ever ridden in a NYC cab, you know that a roller-coaster ride dulls in comparison.

  Well, Beerculees is driving the diocese’s van, the nun is in the passenger seat and they’re are making their way through mid-town traffic when suddenly, a cabbie cuts in front of them, missing their van by mere inches. Startled, the nun jerks back, points and shouts, “Watch out for that asshole!”

   To which, my brother, ever the cool guy, turns to the nun, places his splayed fingers against his chest and says in an affected British accent, “My word!”

  Well, the young nun immediately bursts out laughing then apologizes for her choice of language but my brother laughs, waves her off and says, “Actually, I think you hit the nail right on the head.”

  So, later on, we’re sitting around having a brew when he asks what animal I thought was the most dangerous.

   I kick it around and decide that the shark is the most dangerous since it is usually described as a killing and eating machine.

   He says, “Nah, once you’re out of the water, the shark can’t hurt you.”

   I give it some more thought and said, “Okay, a lion or tiger. They can run faster and climb trees.”

   “True,” Beerculees replied, “but if you dive into the water, neither will likely follow.”

   Which was probably true, so I said, “Okay, smart guy, which animal is the most dangerous?”

   He replies, “A bear. Because it can run faster, climb faster, swim faster and should you decide to try to escape by walking a tightrope across a chasm, a bear will follow, holding a tiny umbrella.”

   Wise-ass.

   So, I patiently waited my turn.

   It came when he asked how I’m getting along with our sister, who I invited to move in with me while the extensive repairs were being made to her house from Superstorm Sandy.

   I shrugged and said, “Well our differences took a little getting used to. You know what an early bird Darla is and how I’m such a night owl and that she’s a vegetarian and I’m a meat and potatoes kind of guy. Plus, she’s hooked on those reality shows and I can’t stand them. But she has a kind heart and a pleasant personality so we make it work. Besides,” I said casually, “The sex is fantastic.”

   Ever seen those cartoons when you were a kid where the character’s eyes bug out, the jaw drops and the tongue unfurls like a rolled-up rug while making a sound like an old time ‘ah-oooh-gah’ car horn?

   Well, that was the look on his face.

   Priceless.

   I let him stew in disbelief for a while then when I saw he couldn’t stand it anymore I said, “Oh c’mon. You know I’m only kidding!” And as his face began to relax I added, “The sex ain’t that great.”

  Thought I was going to have to ship him home in a box.

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