BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 103
Using my left hand, the one I normally use for set up and jabs, I yanked his hands
away from his face. Right on the heels of clearing my target, I came in with a jolting
right uppercut that straightened him up. From there, I threw a few vicious haymakers,
punches I pulled from way back behind me. I was only able to hit him four or five times,
with all the damage my blows were causing, before one of my punches spun him around.
It left him running full tilt, head down like a running back with a football, but his arms
hung limp at his sides. He didn‟t really run all that far.
Terrell stopped when his face met the glazed windows that, when raised, let us
look out onto the athletic field. Those closed windows were laced with chicken wire, so
he didn‟t continue through them. It simply peeled off the side of his face and left him
standing before us gushing blood in all directions. Terrell screamed like a woman being
gang raped and raced out of the locker room, blood trailing behind him in blotches, it was
pumping so hard.
To this day, I can‟t recall the three white guys in the locker room with me when it
got started. I do know, whoever they were/are, I had no idea those guys could run that
fast. I don‟t think they knew it, either, until twenty-some black guys started to drop their
towels and shirts, slowly moving toward the white guy who just sent Terrell out of the
room to die. Those white guys soon found out how fast they could move, and the
gigantic whoosh kind of made my ears hurt.
Shows t‟ go ya who your friends are, right?
That left Bill Cady, about eighteen to twenty feet from the only way out, with
twenty-some goddamned awfully pissed off black guys. No joke, no attempt at humor, I
knew I was about to die. Never a quitter, no matter how ugly things might get, I only
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