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

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Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 233 when I got to her house around three. It was a no harm, no foul deal, as I saw it, and I was ready to blow it all off. That wasn‟t Ken‟s take, not by any means. From what I was told, he was still hiding in his room at his parents‟ house, considering taking his life. We all talked about it, and I had an idea. Once we thrashed out the details, a few of us headed for Ken‟s house to enact it. Bill Palmer had to go in first. He let slip part of the story I came up with, just enough to entice Ken to let the rest of us inside. I wanted witnesses to what I had in mind, both to add credibility for Ken, and to back me up, in case he didn‟t believe the whopper I‟d concocted. When I saw Ken, I almost screwed it up with my astonished reaction. His entire face was varying shades of purple, yellow, and an ugly tinge of red. His nose was a good two times normal size, broken more than once. His eyes were still so swollen he could barely see. From the way he moved, I‟m certain I broke a few of his ribs. He even had bruises visible where his shirt collar hung open. I figured, if a cop saw this man, I was going to jail, for sure. I didn‟t have a mark on me. The only blow Ken ever scored was that first shot to my chin, and it wasn‟t even that sore the next day. I know Bob Chouinard was with us, and I think Dave Chouinard was the other one, along with Bill Palmer. When I got started with my story for Ken, they collectively backed me up, affirming every piece of bullshit I fed this poor, beaten man. I began by asking Ken for his forgiveness. He was surprised and told me he didn‟t know what there was to forgive. We convinced him he was so drunk he didn‟t realize it was actually me who started the fight. Worse, after all that happened, and Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963
Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 234 because I hurt him a little bit, too, I was worried he might later decide to seek revenge against me. Ken looked me over, seeing not a mark on me while he looked like someone from a county fair sideshow, and asked what the fuck I was talking about. That‟s where the other guys were most helpful. We convinced Ken I‟d suffered severe internal injuries from his fists, and it was only due to receiving prompt medical attention I was still alive today. I almost got tears in my eyes, even if not for the reason he thought, telling him this bullshit tale. The man was a sad and pitifully beaten human being. Still, we convinced him he won the fight, even though his injuries were “a little more noticeable than mine”. I explained I was most afraid he‟d decide later on to exact a measure of the vengeance he might be feeling. As a group, we convinced him it was only fair to feel I‟d already suffered enough. With the ongoing pain of all my internal injuries, I‟d be paying for quite a while to come. Believe it or not, he bought all that hogwash. Even gave me a sermon on how to manage my temper. He was almost finished when I was ready to take it all back and tell him to stuff his fucking sermon, but I managed to grit my teeth and let him wrap it up his way. When he did, he and I shook hands, he forgave me again, and we all left to get drunk. ********** I mentioned the good deed I did for Jim Chouinard. So, while you‟re all still forming an opinion on this Bill Cady asshole, I‟ll toss it in and see if it helps me. As I mentioned, Jim, better known as JC, was Cool with a capital “C”. He was the man, long Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963
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BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

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