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

Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 144
going on, I went inside. I figured if there was a reasonable answer, I‟d drive around a
while longer.
When I heard unidentifiable sounds in the back, I went to see what it might be.
The closer I got, the more identifiable those noises became, but it was something I had to
see for myself. I couldn‟t leave it to my imagination to determine what was happening.
Not with what it sounded like. I pushed open the doors and learned my ears weren‟t
deceiving me. Jackie was on the couch, naked. So was the priest. He was between her
legs fucking the hell out of my girl.
I know it‟s part of a priest‟s job, one way or another, to help his parishioners
“remove the evil” from themselves. I simply didn‟t agree with his methodology. I didn‟t
think he should “fuck the hell out of her”. I could‟ve bought into it if he‟d “prayed the
hell out of her”, but the way they were going at it didn‟t sit right with me.
I went back outside and waited in my car.
Jackie knew I‟d seen them. I have no idea what she and her new “tryst partner”
decided to tell me. She got in the car and neither of us said a word.
I drove her home and stopped in front of her house, still in the middle of the
street. I didn‟t get her door. Didn‟t walk her to the house. Didn‟t kiss her. Didn‟t even
say good-bye. I waited until she got out and drove off without any squeal of the tires, a
common reaction among young guys when hurt or angry.
I felt both, but was more stunned than anything else. I stayed drunk for a week.
Every day, every night. Whenever anyone asked me about Jackie, I only said skip it.
Wouldn‟t talk about it. About her.
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