April 1, Day One
Don't prank a bull in a China shop.
I didn't get my submission in for the April Fool's contest but that's okay. This one is a bit different from my normal stuff. Maybe it was my mood that day, but I can't deal with all these prank stories where the wronged party has to just take it.
Relax; it's just a story, people.
Somehow, we got stuck hosting the first BBQ of the spring. That's me, Ronald Wilson, nickname Ham, but I'll get to that later. My wife, Hailey, was quite pleased with herself this first of April. We'd been married coming up on three years and had purchased our home just after the Christmas holidays.
Hailey and I loved our home and especially our little cul de sac in Natalbany, Louisiana. I know that's a mouthful. Funny thing, we were about eight miles on the other side of Interstate 55, from Albany, so most of the locals joked that the first people to settle there must've hated Albany for some reason but were too dumb to be able to spell 'not.'
The neighborhood consisted of several couples all around our general age, some with kids, and some without. We were one of those couples and Hailey had stopped taking her birth control back near the end of February so we could get started on a family. We were getting a lot of flak from our neighborhood friends and both sets of parents.
I was manning the grill, a brand new one that grilled and smoked with hardwood pellets. It was a combined Christmas present from Hailey and her parents. I looked around my yard taking in the sight of about fifteen or twenty neighbors enjoying themselves and having a great time as I turned and tamped the briskets. I was about to toss the alligator tail appetizers on when I realized I needed to take a piss.
As I turned in the hallway, I pulled up short. Just outside the bathroom, there was Dane Wilson locked in a romantic kiss with Hailey. His hand was up inside her blouse and I knew Hailey hadn't worn a bra for the festivities.
Why was my wife kissing my friend? That was the only question I asked myself before taking action. I was on him in a flash, grabbing the back of his head and smashing it into the wall, inches from my wife's face. Unfortunately, it was the door jamb, not the drywall, and Dane's nose exploded as he went limp. Before he even hit the floor, I'd kicked him hard in the chestnuts. After he fell to the floor, nearly unconscious, I stomped them a few times for good measure.
In all the commotion, most of our guests had filed into the house. I was being held and pulled away by at least three guys as Hailey sobbed and howled. The three or four neighborhood guys dragged me out the back onto our deck. I was worried about the appetizers.
I worried about several things just then, which I'll explain later, although, with all the money I'd spent on the brisket, I didn't want it to get overcooked. The men held me for several minutes as a great bustle ensued inside. I heard someone screaming for an ambulance and some wet towels. Hailey could still be heard screaming "Oh my God!"
I finally convinced my concerned neighbors that I was settled so they led me to the steps leading down into the backyard and told me to stay put. A few moments later I heard several sirens.
You'd think that in a small town in a place like Louisiana, you'd be able to defend your wife's virtue in your own home, but I guess that's not how it works. A cop I knew from high school, Harley, put the cuffs on me, letting me know how sorry he was.
At the local sheriff's office, I was booked and tossed in the clink, awaiting a ride over to county lock-up. My Dad wouldn't understand, so my one call went to my cousin, Jared. I told him what happened so Daddy would get me a lawyer.
Later, as I sat in county jail, I was calm enough to think.
What the hell was my wife doing kissing Dane? I had no hankering that she would do something like that. She'd always been so loving and gave me lots of attention. It had to be that prick, Dane. We'd hung out a little bit since moving into the cul de sac. Throwing darts at the local pub, and we'd gone river fishin' a few times.
What I knew of him, well, it wasn't much. We only ever talked about guy things. I knew he grew up in a suburb of New Orleans and that he'd gone to a fancy law school up north. He never finished school because his Daddy's business went belly-up. One thing you learn in our neck of the woods is to notice how a person carries themself. If there was one thing I didn't like about Dane Woodson it was that he acted one way with just me out there on the river, but in a group of people, he was a different person.
The way I figured it, he was trying to prove something to himself by trying to prove something to everyone else. I got the idea that he didn't look too kindly on himself for his misfortune in college. I mean, he still had a good job as a law clerk in the county seat. By comparison, I'd gone two years to community college and worked as a graphics designer at the local print shop.
That still didn't answer why my wife was making out with him in our hallway.
I'd thought I was defending her honor but looking back, she wasn't resisting even a little bit. That made no sense considering what their lips were doing and where his hand was. I guess I went a bit overboard.
Yeah, I had a temper. It had reared its head before. Mom and Dad were always pissed and worried about me at the same time. I played defensive tackle and middle linebacker in high school. That was freshman year. Three games into the season, I went back to the practice field after dark, hoping to find my watch. Grandmama had given it to me as a birthday present and I'd be in deep shit if I lost it.
I looked all around the bench area with my flashlight and was about to give up when I heard a muffled feminine voice, over by the bleachers. I shined my light in that direction. There were Billy Ray and Elmer, a couple of guys I'd known since grade school. Billy Ray has his hand over a girl's mouth.
I shouted "Hey, what's goin on?" as I started over in their direction.
Elmer came out from under the bleachers. "This don't concern you, Ronnie." He said it as a warning. I was close enough by then to see the girl was Marley, a girl I'd had a crush on all through junior high.
"I said, what's goin on here?" I ignored Elmer's statement.
Elmer made a mistake. Not by taking a shot but by telegraphing it. He missed terribly and I hit him in the lower ribs, doubling him over. As I kept walking towards Billy, he pulled Marley in front of him, one hand still over her mouth, and the other around her neck.
"Just keep walking, Ronnie," he warned. He didn't sound so sure of himself. By then I had a pretty good idea of what was happening.
"Let her go, Billy Ray," I ordered. "Or you're gonna get a beating."
"I can't Ronnie," he looked desperate. "I ain't goin' away for some rape charge. Come any closer and I'll kill her."
I wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed but Billy was always several brain cells behind. His sister was a year ahead of him and she always joked, "That boy's cornbread ain't done in the middle."
"So," I said calmer, "you gonna kill her, then me, then hide all the evidence?" He was thinking about it. "Cause two murders is fifty to life and attempted rape is probably about three. And Billy, I can promise you ain't gonna kill me, not even on your best day."
I think Billy was just about to let her go but he saw Elmer charging me from behind.
Elmer was a big lunk raised on a farm. He tackled me hard and I swore he broke my collarbone. Something happened to me then. In a blind rage, even well afterward, I could only remember brief snippets of the ensuing fight. Both Billy Ray and Elmer ended up in the hospital. Elmer's brain was swollen and they put him to sleep for several days. Billy had a broken wrist, three broken fingers, two broken ribs, and a busted kneecap. His face looked like the local mud track on race night.
I ended up with a broken collarbone and spent the night in the hospital. Both Billy Ray and Elmer's parents filed assault charges but it was Marley's father who came to my rescue. He had a brother in the District Attorney's office and Marley's dad talked them into dropping the charges. I didn't get to play football that year but I became suddenly popular.
My sophomore year was different. I worked hard to get into the starting lineup. I hit hard, or so I was told. Local opposing teams started calling me "The Waterboy," I guessed like the Adam Sandler movie. My fellow teammates were having none of that and I got the nickname, "Hammer," which later turned into just "Ham".
Unlike that movie, I didn't get a scholarship. We never made it to state. Our team sucked, other than the running back and me, and we went 6-5 on the season. Our town was too small for any scouts to waste their time. I never minded because I had a lot of friends and was generally known as a bull in a China shop.
Marley stayed close throughout graduation. She was headed to Texas A&M so we said our quiet goodbyes, although she stayed in touch during her freshman year. She was also the one who convinced me to go to community college. I liked that girl a lot.
My next run-in happened right after my last semester before earning my associate degree. It was a stupid bar fight and why I got involved instead of running out the door still bothers me. I had no friends in the bar, and although I knew plenty of the guys I had no skin in the game. I'd been drinking and went on a terror once I got hit across the head with a beer bottle. Luck was on my side again though, as the judge had it out for the instigators and let about fifteen of us off with a warning. The charges remained on our records.
So, here I sat waiting for the morning so I could bail out and go talk to my wife. That didn't happen, though. Daddy couldn't get me an attorney that quick or he didn't try that hard, but I ended up with a public defender. Judge Tubbs had an angry look on his face as the prosecutor read the charges and Dane's injuries. I guess I'd gone a little crazy.
"Mr. Wilson," he addressed me from the bench. "I'm not inclined to allow bail in this matter. Even though this isn't a three-strike state, you are assumed to be a flight risk."
I leaned into my attorney and told him I could barely afford gas let alone a plane ticket.
I was held over and returned to county. Three hours later, I was led to a room where my Attorney and Hailey sat. He talked about what was coming next and explained that Daddy had finally retained a lawyer for me that I'd meet with the next morning. He explained the charges again and told me not to say a word to anyone, not even my cellmate. Then he left me to face my wife alone.
