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

Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 150
I laughed, an honest reaction. “Yeah? You, and what fuckin‟ army?”
He threatened to hit me. That‟s all it took.
I said I was leaving.
He stood between me and the front door. Said I‟d have to get past him.
“No fuckin‟ problem, asshole!” I started toward him, which I know scared the
piss out of the old bastard. He was just starting to raise his fists when I ducked, grabbed
his legs and did a double leg takedown. I threw him to the floor, got across his chest and
slugged him once. Truthfully, I pulled the punch quite a bit or it would‟ve really trashed
his face. Still, it left him with a swollen jaw, I‟d see later the next day. I only hit him
once. That‟s all it took to see the fight was over. I got off him and stood. “I said I was
leaving, and I meant it.”
I headed out the door and eventually found my buddies after a long walk.
No mention was ever made of me jacking his jaw, but that curfew bullshit was
suddenly a thing of the past. So, when that David thing was a couple years older, he
started with eleven o‟clock curfews, both nights. Never even told me thanks. Whiny,
lucky little prick.
When I got my first car, Mom helped. Aunt Bev‟s husband, “The Weasel”, sold
cars at the Pontiac dealership. New and used. The girls caucused and Mom took me to
see Weasel about a used car. I did pay part of the money, but my parents ended up
paying most of it. So, what‟d I get?
An extremely ugly, flat medium green, 1961 Ford Fairlane, four-door. An
automatic with no power steering. The only freakin‟ option was an AM radio. Plus it
was a damned Ford. I hated it, with one exception.
Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963