The Rocky Road Pact

Chapter 31: If You Don't Know Me by Now

The sun in my eyes was making the road ahead of me shimmer, and I was starting to feel punch-drunk. I was nearly to the Causeway with hours more driving to go. I swung into a coffee shop drive thru and ordered a large double-double - two cream, two sugar. 

"Police are continuing to look for a suspect in the violent assault of Bobby Mullens, 18, from Coldspring who remains in hospital. The suspect, considered armed and dangerous, is six feet tall, slim with shoulder-length blond hair and was last seen wearing black jeans and an AC/DC t-shirt," I heard the radio broadcast from my car, looked down and saw the identical outfit, as described. I brushed at my hair, wishing I'd paused to buy a ballcap at the gas station where I filled up.

I passed a two dollar bill to the woman, who eyed me up and down suspiciously. "That could be half the Island," I said weakly. She passed me my coffee warily. "Keep the change, ma'am," I said, and she gave a brief smile as I drove on. Whew.

I should have gone home. The words kept repeating in my head, like a mantra. Or to Cassie's. Anywhere but there. 

The shout stopped Moose mid-swing. "Get the fuck off my property before I flatten youse all." There before us stood the smallest, angriest man I'd ever seen. Shirtless and barefeet in a pair of jeans, he was about five foot five, but all wiry muscle. It was the Grandfather Garrick, legendary old scrapper of Braddock, known far and wide for his bar fighting style which was mostly cracking guys over the head with beer bottles. This was not a geezer to be fucked with.

Before Moose had time to say anything, Garrick stepped towards him and punched him in the throat, a swift motion that had Moose standing back and gagging, dropping the bat. The old man laughed. "Who wants some more?"

Jesus Christ.

Moose stumbled back and fell flat on his ass. That's when Bobby picked up the bat. "I'll show you, Old Man," he said, and came at him swinging. The bat caught the old guy just above the ear, and he went down. 

"Bobby, what the fuck are you doing?" I couldn't believe he'd assaulted an old man. Before I could stop him, he kicked the man in the face while he was out cold. I wrestled the bat from him and threw it aside.

"Man, what's your problem?" Suddenly, he was in my face, a few inches shorter than me, but his eyes were wild with a strange mix of fear and something like joy. He liked hurting the old guy, he got off on it. "I call it a good night," he sneered, leaning towards me in a conspiratorial whisper. "I'd say the only thing missing is to go fuck some bitches. Starting with Cassie. If you don't want her, I'll have a go..."

That was it. I hauled off and clocked him one, harder than I'd ever hit anyone in my entire life. He went down like a sack of potatoes; out cold. 

"Fuck this shit. I'm out of here." Jonesy was wild-eyed and scared. Moose got up and gestured to his car. 

"Grab him and put him in," he rasped, pointing to Bobby, still out like a light.

"You guys do whatever you want. I'm outta here." I started walking into the night, not sure where I was going. I just needed to get the fuck out of there. I didn't know what happened to Bobby or the old man, and I didn't care.

It took me hours to hitch hike back to town,  and by the time I got there, the news was all over the place. That someone beat the shit out of Bobby, broke his arm and put him in the hospital with a concussion. No one knew where Moose and Jonesy were, and apparently the cops were looking for me.

That's when I booked it to Cassie's. I nearly told her everything, but she had been so sweet. And I literally couldn't keep my eyes open at that point. Everything about her was calming and the minute I was in her presence, I was immediately soothed. After a few hours' sleep, I woke up with her in my arms, fresh as an angel. I looked down at her, resisting the urge to plant a kiss on her forehead and wondered what it would be like if this was our future; her and me together every day? I didn't have to think about it; I knew it would be wonderful. My ideal future would be one with her in it. But it was impossible. I was likely going to real jail this time, so long to any kind of a future. 

I sighed, rubbed my eyes. What a friggin mess.

What the hell happened?

After I left, how did the fucker manage to get himself a concussion and a broken arm? I didn't hit him that hard...

The answer, when it came to me, was obvious. Old Man Garrick came to, saw the bat there and went to town on the little shit. Couldn't say I blamed him. 

Except now, everyone blamed me.

Fuck.

Served Bobby right, hitting an old guy when he was down. Guess the old man thought better him than me, and wanted to immobilize Bobby to defend himself. God knows what he would have done. Someone like that, with that kind of blood lust, is scary. There was something very dark inside him, something that made him want to hurt people.

The minute he mentioned Cassie, I couldn't help myself. I felt rage.

But I didn't beat him to within an inch of his life. He just told the cops I did. 

Douchebag. Probably too embarrassed to admit he got his ass handed to him by a pensioner. The toughest pensioner I'd ever seen, but still. You didn't fuck with the old guys in the small community, everyone knew that. They were mostly retired miners, steel plant workers or fisherman, used to working the land, or a mile under the ocean, in the dark. People were tough out on the east coast, mentally and physically tough.

Cassie's dad was a cop; he'd be telling her all kinds of nasty things about me by now. Did she hate me? The worst part was that he'd be telling her that I'm the one with the darkness inside; I was the one who liked to hurt people just for the fun of it. When I hated that darkness in people; I fought against it. 

I'd admit to hitting Bobby, just once. But that was it. The old man took care of the rest, I was sure of it.

The question was, what was I going to do about it? Cross the border into New Brunswick and hide like a frightened mouse? Or be a man and face up to my problems back in Coldspring?

Could I live with Cassie thinking the worst of me? What if I never saw her again and this is what she was left of me, memories of the time she spent with a violent punk? Did I want her to think that way about me, forever?

The answer was more feeling than thought; It hit me like a lightening bolt, right between the eyes.

I pulled off a near-perfect U-turn and headed back from where I came. I didn't know if I'd be able to keep myself out of jail. But I was going to talk to Cassie, and get things straight with her. That was the one thing I was determined to do, fuck the consequences.