Perception

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

An effective way to deal with predators is to taste terrible.

Unknown

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   With shaky legs, the figure dressed in a baby pink t-shirt and tight jeans stood and turned to face her attackers. “I have jus-“

   Her words where cut off as the giant fist connected with her stomach, sending her flying into the mud again.“I said piss off you god damned pervert!”

   His cronies cheered as she hit the ground, one of her matching pink shoes cartwheeled away from her. Bolstered by the laughter, the monster grabbed the girl by her long blonde hair and started pulling her towards the gate. She screamed at the man, kicking her legs to try and get enough traction to stand up while clawing at his hand. The new comers cleared a path for them, trying not to attract attention while watching the show with abstract fascination. The more established members of Dicksonville were already moving into position. But I was closest.

   Picking up a fallen branch, I charged at the pig, jumping over the girl as I slammed his radius with my club. I think I might have heard the bone snap. Reflexively, he dropped the girl and cradled the arm against his chest. The girl sprang up, jumping behind me for protection.

    “Why you little bit-“ he raged taking a step forward.

   I stood my ground, “Now, now there are children present.”

   “Stay out of this! It’s between me and the thing.” He ordered.

   His mates tried to come to his aid but were quickly blocked by the Dicksonville Guard. The Guard, a tongue-in-cheek name of Dicksonville's disciplinarians of which I was apart, watched on warily. It was an unwritten rule that if you involve yourself in another’s problems, you must finish it yourself or be finished by it. If I lost, another would take my place, but if I backed down now or called for help, I would lose face and standing. The guard would keep this a fair fight; that was all I could expect.

   “There is nothing between you and her except your ignorance. Leave now, you are not welcome here.”

   “Yeah, push off you dirty great mongrel,” the girl behind me yelled.

   Someone must have motioned to the girl as the man's beady eyes tracked her escape before retuning to me. “They are not people. It is because of creatures like that that the country is in that state it is now!”

   “It’s because of weak assed politicians and morons like you who voted for them that we are suffering this great depression. Leave the girl alone you Neanderthal.”

   “They are not natural and not welcome,” he said as he began to stalk me.

   Balancing my weight on the balls of my feet, I countered his moves until we were both circling each other like boxers.

    “They are as natural as you or I. You and your friends are the unwelcome ones here. Didn’t you listen to the rules? Everyone is equal here, our own little deprived Utopia. It doesn’t matter if you are black, white, yellow or green; Muslim, Catholic, Jew or Hindu; gay, straight or in love with inanimate objects. As long as you accept the rules and work together you are welcome. You? You homophobic moron - are not.”

   He charged at me then. His rage blinded him, making him slow. I easily dodged his fist two wild swings before sweeping his legs out from under him.

   Placing my club against his chest I demanded, “Leave.”

   He rolled away, jumped up, and charged again. I twirled out of the way only to feel my leg go out from underneath me as I slipped in some mud, the crowd gasped. The mud splattered as he brought his foot down repeatedly, landing each time just next to my head as I rolled away. The last stomp caught my hair, halting my retreat. Looking up, I saw his mouth spread into a wicked grin as he brought his other foot down towards my head once again.

   Reaching up, I grabbed his balls through his baggy track pants and squeezed as hard as I could while twisting my wrist. His foot hesitated before coming down next to my shoulder. I think I heard every male suck in his breath in phantom pain.

   “Let go,” the beast squeaked.

   “Not until you apologize,” I stated, twisting harder.

   “I’m sorry.” His voice rose another octave. “Very, very sorry.” He began to pant. “You were right. All equal. I’m a moron. Very sorry. Please let go.”

   “Is that enough for you?” I called, twisting my head around to look at the girl. She too had her legs crossed. “Yeah, I’m good.”

   He sunk down to the grounds I released him.

    I held my hand out in front of me, staring at it in disgust. “Can someone get me some water, preferably boiling, before I have to gnaw my hand off?”

   The girl from before skipped over to me and swept me up in a massive bear hug.

    “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she chanted before Samson pulled her off.

    Her eyes here wide with hurt and her Adam’s apple bobbed when she looked up at him.

   “Amy doesn’t like to be touched.”

   She turned back at me, her hands clasping open and shut as she tried to figure out what to do, “Thank you. Really, thank you. No one has ever stood up for me like that before.”

   “Don’t worry about it Princess. Like I said, in our own deprived Utopia, no one is allowed to discriminate against anyone here.”

   Her back snapped up immediately and her husky voice was scathing as she said, “I thought you said you didn’t discriminate. How can you say that and then call me-“

   “Princess is written in hot pick glitter across your chest,” I pointed out. I nodded in thanks as someone handed me a bottle of water.

   “Oh.” She said running out of steam.

    “Don’t take offence, she renames everybody. Hi, my name is Antonio. But if you ever hear her referring to someone named Samson, that’s me. It’s not the worst moniker she had come up with; she calls one guy Pie-man of all things.” Turning to me he asked, “Why is that?”

   “Simple Simon met a pie-man, going to the fair. He objected to me calling him Simple.”

    “In that case Sweetie, I’m no princess. I’m a Queen,” she said, throwing back her head and striking a pose.

    Suddenly bored, I went back to my tent to wait for Petra’s return.