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

Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 77
lookin‟ motorcycle. It was supposedly something akin to a Harley pig, which isn‟t much
of a bike in its own right. He also looked rather unclean, but I found that no big surprise.
As I said, he‟d always been a prick, as long as I knew him.
We had music class in the auditorium. One of the very few classes where it was a
mixture of boys and girls. We got to sit close, right next to girls who were growing tits!
I loved that class!
Being truly adult in all aspects, we guys were throwing spitballs at each other one
day in class. I took extra paper with me so I‟d have enough to chew, make into a wad,
and zap someone. None of those sissy balls of rolled up dry paper for me, boy. Not
when I could do the real thing.
For reasons I never unraveled, Finnerty targeted me that day, not shooting anyone
else. I was getting‟ kinda pissed, to tell the truth. Finally, after I‟d had all I could take, I
chewed a big wad of paper. A real big wad. It made a huge ball of mushy paper. When
it was ready, and Finnerty looked away, I launched that sucker. He was maybe fifteen
feet from me.
It hit him smack on the side of his head and splattered, leaving a huge glob of
paper, wet from my spit, on the side of his face. Finnerty was furious. So furious he told
the nun who was teaching us what I did to him. Little crybaby prick. Maybe I should‟ve
arranged for him to hang around with that David thing so they could sob together? Little
crybaby prick.
I quickly countered, saying he did it to himself to get me in trouble. Since he‟d
been an asshole to a few other kids, some of them backed up my lie. Finnerty was
ordered to knock off the crap.
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