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

Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 74
Mom took me in the bathroom and cleaned me up, but kept taking verbal shots at
him all the while over her shoulder. The company was gone when we came out. My old
man spent the evening reading at the kitchen table while we used the living room.
Shortly after that, I decided I‟d had enough of John and getting the shit knocked
out of myself twice a month, or more. He got mad and came running after me, like
always. Instead of running away, I ran at him. Not only was I tired of the ass kickings he
administered, I was still pissed off about that word he used on me that made my old man
beat my ass like that.
I slugged John right in the mouth, tumors and all. He was a bloody mess after I
smacked him a few more times. I was able to see the only reason he chased me was
because I‟d run. The only reason he‟d whip my ass was because I‟d cower and let him do
it. Well, John, Bill Cady has had enough ass kickin‟s to last him an entire lifetime, and
more. Take your ass kicking business somewhere else from now on.
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While I was in eighth grade one of the neighborhood kids, Richie Opdyke, got me
involved in one of the most tragic events of my life to date. He didn‟t “do anything” to
me, but he abetted the freakin‟ crime, all the same.
Richie‟s Dad smoked Chesterfields. Unfiltered. A nasty cigarette. He swiped a
brand-new pack and got a bunch of us together so we could share in this ritual passage
into manhood. We went to Mrs. Donelli‟s side yard. A big one where the neighborhood
kids often played football. We hid in the dark next to the house where Kim Van Nocker
lived. (She‟s another super cutie I wish I‟d had guts enough to approach, but she was too
young).
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