Chapter 11: Getting a Car

The bright skylight filled the room with warmth and a comforting sense of security.

Martin maintained a steady pace as he jogged through the Clayton community. Since his leg had healed, he'd implemented a structured exercise routine. He believed that a physically fit body was crucial for success, especially when you're financially disadvantaged.

A rolling shutter door rumbled open, and Scott Carter emerged from his grocery store, munching on seaweed and holding a wine bottle. He spat out the seaweed, only the stem left in his mouth, and called out to Martin, "Hey, aren't you tired? You need to learn to relax!"

Martin couldn't be bothered with him and simply extended his middle finger in response.

Why exercise? For the enjoyment that the future holds.

After returning home and quickly freshening up, Martin headed over to Carter's house next door for breakfast.

Lily and Hall were busy getting ready for school.

Elena prepared an omelette sandwich for Martin. While he ate, she inquired about Harris, who was flipping through a book. "Aren't you going to school?"

Harris replied, "I'm applying to college. Reviewing at home is more efficient than attending a public middle school."

"Best of luck," Martin offered.

After breakfast, Martin took the tips he'd collected the previous night from his pocket and tossed them to Elena. "That's my food money."

Elena was taken aback. "Are you out of your mind? You got your head banged up."

Martin sipped his milk without looking up. "I've found a new job. I'll be working as a bartender at the Strip Club."

Lily couldn't resist chiming in, "Why not consider being a Stripper? I'm saving up..."

A loud thud followed, and Elena silenced them both with an iron fist. Lily and Hall covered their noses and stayed quiet.

Martin finished his milk and turned to Elena. "I'm thinking of buying a second-hand car. Want to join me?"

Elena slipped a purity ring onto her left ring finger. "I volunteered at the Methodist Church this morning. We've teamed up with the Atlanta Methodist Church to promote neo-conservatism and provide a free, hearty lunch."

Martin was hearing about the Methodist Church for the first time. "Methodist Church?"

Elena clarified, "Conservative organizations have their roots in the same place as the advertising Methodist Church. Their conservative beliefs are just as stringent."

Martin understood. "So, the ring?"

Elena explained, "I'll believe in whoever offers the most free food."

Lily was about to interject, but Martin was prepared. "If you don't want to get a beating, keep quiet."

Elena then suggested, "Since you've found a new job, why not throw a celebration party?"

Martin agreed, "Once I'm done with this, you can invite your friends, and we'll host it in my backyard." He gestured towards their rented house. "Lately, I have this feeling that James isn't resting peacefully down there. If we invite more people to dance above him, he'll probably stay down there without any trouble once he sees how happily we're living."

Elena nodded. "I'll call my friend Monica to come."

Martin called Bruce, and they met at the southern end of the community as planned. They'd agreed to go car shopping together.

Vincent's family had interests in various businesses, including a second-hand car dealership. Bruce had ties to Vincent and could earn a commission by bringing in business for the dealership.

Among the cars recommended by the salesman and Bruce, Martin settled on a Ford. The $4,500 price tag had to be paid in installments.

No matter how affordable it was, he was concerned about breaking down on the road.

After making a $900 down payment and completing the necessary paperwork, they proceeded to a firearms store.

Martin had a clean record and could legally purchase firearms.

The store had second-hand guns available, including an 80% new Glock 17, once belonging to treasure hunters at Tao Warehouse.

Bruce meticulously inspected it, took it apart, and recommended Martin to purchase it.

The pistol came with two magazines, a holster, maintenance oil, and 100 rounds of ammunition, all for a total of $380.

Georgia had relatively lax gun regulations, and obtaining handgun licenses was a quick process. Some gun shop owners even mentioned that the state government had discussed a bill that would allow carrying handguns without a license or concealment.

Inside the small shooting range offered by the gun store, Martin handed two $5 bills to Bruce.

Bruce accepted the money with a good-natured smile. "I'm at your service until I start my evening shift."

Martin reminded him, "Remember, we need to be civilized. No ambiguous statements."

Bruce removed the magazine from the pistol and asked, "Have you ever used a gun before?"

Martin shrugged, "I've only played with prop guns and toy guns."

Bruce began the instruction by explaining the fundamentals of handling a firearm. He demonstrated the process, moving swiftly with precise marksmanship, hitting the target ten meters away.

Martin put on ear protection and fired several magazines, getting a feel for pistol shooting. As for his marksmanship, it still had room for improvement.

"For your own sake and mine," Bruce offered some advice, taking a seat. "When you encounter troublemakers like last night, especially from the south, don't hesitate to show your firearm. It can help keep things civilized."

Martin, motivated by the events of the previous night, had already made up his mind to purchase a gun and a car. He replied, "I'll learn to be civilized from you."

Bruce added, "If the police ever stop you and you haven't committed any serious crimes, cooperate fully with them. Don't even think about reaching for your gun. You, as a rookie, would empty your magazine in seconds."

Martin, having seen plenty of videos on the subject, assured Bruce, "I won't give them the chance."

Bruce's final point was, "As a rookie, you won't intimidate anyone. When the other party still has a gun, find a way to escape quickly."

Martin grinned and said, "I'll run like my life depends on it before calling you, the expert, to guide me back."

Bruce sighed, "We live in civilized times now. When I first left the army, I was reckless, carrying ARs and engaging in shootouts with other gangs. I was foolish back then, not realizing the value of my own life."

Martin asked, "You served in the military?"

"In the 1990s, I was stationed in the UK," Bruce replied. "I was eventually forced to retire."

Curiosity piqued, Martin inquired, "Why did you retire? If it's personal, feel free to ignore the question."

Bruce chuckled naively, "A British soldier lost a bet to me and didn't pay up his gambling debts. You know how the British call themselves civilized gentlemen? Well, I used some civility of my own to collect those debts."

Martin commended him, "Can I give you my opinion? You did a fantastic job!"

Bruce asked with a smirk, "You think that's civilized?"

Martin clenched his fist and lightly bumped it against Bruce's. "If you ever get a chance to do that again, give me a call!"

Bruce was indeed a valuable contact, and it didn't hurt to have a good relationship with him.

Over the next two days, Martin practiced shooting for an hour each day, scoured the newspaper for job opportunities during the day, and worked at the club in the evenings.

He could earn around $20 in tips every night, and with more customers, this amount could easily double. However, the Beast House rarely had more than 50 customers at the same time.

On Wednesday afternoon, Martin received a notification from the Marietta Theater Company. He was scheduled to be at the Midtown Arts Theater on Thursday, waiting for the crew selection.