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

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Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 195 “You wanna come out here and try, motherfucker?” I moved a bit closer, now almost at the curb. Two guys came out of the darkness, extinguishing that bright lamp as they approached. The one in front wore a near-white trench coat. The one in back had on jeans and a dark blue windbreaker. I was curious when I started, drunk before I started, and a little bit pissed at his attitude now. “What the fuck are you doing back there at this time of night?” here before?” “We were lookin‟ for night crawlers.” Uh-huh. Dressed like that? “Where are you from? I‟ve never seen you around “I live right here,” he intimated, gesturing toward the rental house with the hand holding the lantern, his right hand. I then saw he‟d been a polio victim. His left arm was withered and had only a long, pointed end, like a single finger. I also took stock of what was going on. Three in the morning, I‟m drunk, he has an alibi, and I‟m making a scene. Hmmm? Any chance I might go to jail? I saw all kinds of possibilities that way. Cop cars with bright flashing lights. Big officers with flashlights, using them to beat the shit out of me, as they‟d already done a few times. Me sitting in a concrete drunk tank, no place to lie down, listening to some wino snore like a buzz saw while some fairy wants to make me happy. Not a pretty picture. Nope, not at all. I stuck out my hand. “Okay. I apologize. It‟s just, I know John and Erna, and I was kind of worried at first. Let‟s just say it was a misunderstanding, okay?” “Fuck you, asshole.” Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963
Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 196 Hmmm? I began to sense noncompliance. Perhaps even just a tinge of shitty attitude. “Okay, you wanna try it, motherfucker?” Screw those cops. I‟m pissed now. I‟ll mess these assholes up as best I can and hope I‟m in the house when the cops show up. The one behind, whom I learned a bit later was named Danny, also carried an implement I didn‟t see was germane to worm hunting. A ball-peen hammer. I found out about it when he threw it at me and it whirled like a boomerang. I ducked and it sailed an inch or two above my head. If it‟d hit me, the damage would‟ve been pretty serious. It didn't hit me, but it slammed into the door of my car. He might as well have hit my Mom. “You motherfuckers are dead!” I screamed. “I‟m getting‟ my brother and we‟re gonna kick your fuckin’ asses!” Only my drunkenness could‟ve caused me to think of that David thing as an ally in something like this, but he was bigger than me, so maybe that‟s why I said it. I ran into the house, turned left, and was at his bed in two steps. (Damned small house). “Trip, get your ass up, man! I need your help!” He was out of it. “Huh? What?” While I yelled at him a moment longer, it appears “Fast Fred” had already been up and was waiting for me. Either that, or he awakened easily. He‟d slipped on pants and his jacket, along with his slippers. Then he went across the street. Who knows? Maybe he was doing his fatherly duty, trying to keep my drunken ass out of jail. After all, if I was arrested, again, he knew Mom would bail me out, and they never had any extra money. Especially not for things like bail. I went back to the rental house front yard. Curt Brown was standing near the Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963
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BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

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