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

Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 200
Only when grabbed by an officer was my old man able to free up the feet he stood
on that had frozen to the ground. By that time, I‟d made it across the street, up the steps,
and inside the house. My straight razor went into a basket of laundry Mom had set out to
fold when she got around to it, so all was well.
I was hospitalized eleven days, given a private room. I was led to understand it
came at the behest of the Lansing Police Department, who also apparently also paid for it,
thankfully. A detective interviewed me a few times, then came up with his summary,
although it made no sense to me.
Curt Brown was on parole from California, as I said. A parolee may not, in either
state, possess a handgun, even registered. That gun was unregistered. He was driving a
car with illegal California plates, out after curfew, and off his own property. Common
sense told me that was enough to put the bastard back into the joint in a hurry.
Apparently, he had some sort of connections, and I gathered it pissed the cop off
to tell me what he had to say. If I wanted to press charges, the DA would prosecute
Brown. However, in that event, they‟d also prosecute me for intent to do great bodily
harm, including murder. I could go to prison for ten or twelve years.
Suddenly, forgive and forget sounded very appealing to me. I let it go.
A couple days after I was released, I was sitting on the front porch having a
cigarette, watching the world go by. I could walk, but just barely. I still had three .22
slugs in my legs. The doctor told me they always take out the bullets when you watch
Gunsmoke, but in real life, removing them would only do more damage. The doctor
would need to make an even larger hole just to reach the bullets, so they treated me
against infection and left „em in place.
Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963