Chapter 9: Where There is Hate, Let There Be Love...
Justine and I look at each other and mouth the name, "Darlene?"
Darlene jumps off the car, places both hands on her hips and screams, "Billy Bob!"
Justine and I look at each other and mouth the name, "Billy Bob?"
"Darlene how could you run off with these two old fucks and let them do those things to you? God that is just too fucking sick! I'm going to kick your ass like I ain't never kicked it before," Billy Bob screams at Darlene.
Brain cells smoke, snap, crackle and pop, but I finally look at Darlene and ask, "Has he hit you before?"
"Yes."
I turn to look at this Billy Bob. He is younger then me, but who isn't, he is of medium build and he has a baseball bat dangling in his right hand dragging the ground as he walks towards me. "What are you looking at old man? I'm going to kick your ass before I kick Darlene's!"
Billy Bob keeps walking towards me but his bat is still dragging the ground. I look him in the eye and calmly tell him, "I don't think so little boy."
My statement causes him to pause in mid stride as he was expecting weakness. When I see the bat leave the ground I charge him, grasping his shirt with my hands I lift upwards as I run him backwards. He is off balance and he cannot run backwards as fast as I can run forward so he falls with me on top of him. The fool does not know how to fall and his head hits the ground with a thud. While he is still in a daze I grab the wrist holding the bat, twisting with both of my hands the bat leaves his grasp. As I continue with my twisting motion he is rolled over on to his stomach as I bring his arm up to his shoulders. He screams in frustration and pain.
"Get off me old man," Billy Bob screams.
I pull on his arm pulling Billy Bob's upper torso off the ground, then I place my left arm behind his head and drive forwards with all of my might and plant his face into the hard unyielding ground. Bending forward I speak into his ear, "When a real man has you in this position, you don't demand shit. Do you understand?"
Billy Bob is not the sharpest of all people in the world and it takes a few more bangs before he understands that threats will not get him out of his predicament. I hate men who strike women. Period. Violence is never the answer to any problem. Never! Yet here I am naked riding the back of some idiot named Billy Bob who would have tattooed my body with his Louiseville Slugger because he thought I was old and weak. "What the fuck am I going to do with you, you retarded piece of shit," I ask out loud because I cannot come up an answer in the silence of my mind.
"Get off me old man and I tell ya," a defiant Billy Bob yells at me.
Lift Billy Bob's upper torso, forearm behind his head, bend at my waist as quickly as I can, plant his nose once again into the ground, this could get boring. "I'm sorry Billy Bob, but I was not talking to you," I tell him as he coughs and gags in the hole his face has dug for him.
"Let him go Papa, and I will take him home," Darlene quietly speaks.
"He will only beat up on you again as soon as he recovers, and you know it."
"Yes, but I still love the jerk. He ain't much but beats nothing."
I look up at Darlene and I want to tell her she does not need this retarded idiot but I see the look in her eyes. Sweet Jesus, I remember that look and I tremble. Many years ago when I was just a petty assistance district attorney I saw the same look in abused children, the parents may have physically abused them and other hurtful things but they were still their father and mother at least in the eyes of the kids.
I want to scream out the hopelessness of it all but I know that look. As I relax Billy Bob's head is pulled up from the hole his face has dug for him, and in between more spiting, coughing and gaging he tells me, "Get off me old man. You heard the cunt, she is mine!"
For all the battered kids and women, I think. "Okay Billy Bob since you are the man the woman wants. Let me help you up." As I get to my feet I pull and twist with all of my might. Cartilage tearing and bones snapping are muted sounds in comparison to the scream that Billy Bob makes as he is yanked to his knees. Once again the peace of the forest is shaken and the critters sing out their protest. I smile as I release his arm and watch it fall uselessly to his side. You will never use that arm again to strike anyone, so little, so late, I think.