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

Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 84
the innate insecurities of being a teenager, you‟ve got all the primary ingredients to build
as much internal pressure as needed.
I made my best attempt to swagger, hoping anyone who saw me knew it was a
very bad thing to mess with Bill Cady. My thinking was, if they‟re as afraid of me as I
am of them, they won‟t attack. That way, I won‟t get my ass kicked. An ass, by the way,
I could no longer call scrawny or skinny. I was six-one, one-ninety-five, and in pretty
decent shape. Although reluctant to press the issue, it was gonna take a pretty tough kid
to whip my ass by then. I‟d grown too big, and already had a few ass kickings to my
credit, to remain what you‟d call a pushover any longer.
With a general plan now in mind, I asked Duane, “Who‟s the baddest guy in this
school?” I figured I‟d start at the top. I‟d meet the son-of-a-bitch. If he gave me any lip,
I‟d whale his ass in front of witnesses. That way, once I‟d become the king of the hill,
nobody would screw around with me.
“I think that‟d probably be Bob Chouinard,” Duane informed me.
Well, shit! I‟d heard of him. Even met him a couple times at the park. He wasn‟t
all that big, but he was burly. He acted like you really ought not to screw around with
him if you knew what was good for you. Damn, Bob Chouinard? Shit!
Okay, Plan B. “Yeah? Well, who‟s the second baddest?”
“Oh, I don‟t know. Bob Haywood, maybe, or Gilbert Puente.”
I took that under advisement and we went on our tour. Later that day, after school
was out, all the kids went across the street to the McDonald‟s to get a Coke or something
to eat. I followed, hoping to meet a few potential friends, and to scope out those three
guys. I recognized Chouinard, but he was laughing and talking with a bunch of kids, so I
Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963