The Precedence Men

Chapter 2 With My Life

“You OK, man?” 

The shock of the resonance in the accented voice brought Hayden to his senses and he realized he was lying on the ground still clenching his ringed hand in the other.  Embarrassed at the uncertainty of whether he had actually passed out, he tried to pick himself up but was still shaken by the whole incident, especially the hit he took in the head.  Haden could only bring himself to sit, since every sight and sound blurred and turned inside him.   For more than a long confusing second he felt like he did once, long ago, as a child caught in the California shoreline’s rough rolling surf.  Then, as now, he was in desperate need of getting his footing and most of all in need of just catching his breath, though he was drained of all his strength and bearings in the mean time.

“The guy’s out foa dee count and Paul haas gone to get some rope.”

“Huh…wat?” Hayden said confused, barely hearing the deep voice this time.

 “Take eet easya; don’t try too stond just yet.”  The now somewhat familiar voice bore a hidden air of soft sympathy beneath its timbre this time.

Hayden took as deep a breath as he could manage and let it out, unintentionally interrupting it just near the end with a subconscious pause – as if in an effort to gain control before releasing the breath completely.  After a few more quick, unsteady, yet deeper breaths his mind cleared and Hayden realized he recognized the voice that spoke a moment ago. 

“They call you Rej, right?” Hayden said and tried to look up.  His head and eyes stopped mid-movement and he winced in pain immediately grabbing his head with both hands.  Hayden waited until the world stopped spinning before trying to move again.  He slowly got to his feet; they were shaky, and he quickly stumbled to a nearby log, followed by an attentive Rej.

Rej (Reg) – A stocky, but tall and thin man was deeply black with short thick somewhat matted hair that was a little messy.  He squinted like he needed glasses but obviously not due to age.  His cloths were not the kind one would willingly imitate, plain in color, and style, and a little baggy, too, but who needs to impress in a Homeless camp anyway.  He spoke slow through his accent.  “So, yes dey do call me Reg.  Eet ees short for Regeenald.  So, I ask you agaeen, are you OK?”

“I’ll be fine in a minute.”  Hayden gave a quick, but shaky answer.  He didn’t want to be the center of attention just now, and was hoping the whole situation, along with the small crowd that gathered at the outskirts of the fire-pit area, would just go away.  He knew clicking his heals only worked in the movies – something he often liked to reference in the courtroom – so he just kept his eyes shut and wished the crowd away while he rubbed his ring, now hidden beneath his other hand.  Guess wearing it wasn’t the better option after all.  He thought to himself, but he still made no move to put it away.

When Hayden opened his eyes again the crowd had begun to fall away and he could see a thin light-skinned black man tying a rather large white fellow off to his left-front. 

Paul, like Reg, was a former college football player just over a year ago.  They were both dropouts from their junior year; they had their reasons.  Discrimination wears many faces.

“Feelin’ Betta’?” Reg asked in a calm but still resonant voice.  “This is Paul.  He ees a friend of mine.”  Reg continued after Paul had finished tying the stranger and was walking toward them. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Hayden.  Hayden Fleet.”  Hayden tried to stand again but gave it up when Reg, and then Paul, stepped forward in turn to shake his hand before he could lift his butt more than an inch from the stump.

“Do you know dees guy?” Reg said pointing back to the guy, still tied up and face down on the ground.

“Never seen him before, must be new here.”