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

Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 193
was slowly beginning to bleed, with an arm that would soon begin to gush. I looked for
the other guy and saw he was going after Thug with a knife.
Thug was about done with the first one he attacked, the guy now slumped on the
ground, his arms covering his head, crying like a baby. Isn‟t it funny how “tough guys”,
when they get bested, all want to cry like little kids?
I was about to go after the third guy when Thug saw him and got there well ahead
of me. His jaws clamped on the forearm with the knife and ground viciously for a long
moment before the guy jerked free. He left a piece of his jacket, and a whole lot of blood
from the artery Thug just severed, on my dog.
I knew the other two would live. Scarred, certainly. Unhappily, probably. Yet, I
knew they‟d live. The third one, I had my doubts. He was bleeding badly. It formed a
pool at his feet. He looked at his arm in horror and started screaming. Then, before I
could do anything, assuming I even wanted to, he took off running down the street. I
watched him wobble and sway for about half a block, then he stopped. He looked at his
arm, then turned and saw the bloody trail all the way back to where Thug and I were
standing. One more terrified scream and he fell down.
I decided not to hang around and explain anything to the cops, especially since
carrying a straight razor is a felony if you‟re not a practicing barber. We took off and
made it home. If you‟d‟ve asked me, the guy probably died. However, I saw nothing
during the following week about it, so I kept it to myself. All the way from then, at my
age seventeen, until now.
That‟s my story and I‟m stickin‟ to it.
There‟s one final event about that rental house across the street from where I
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