*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age. There is no underage sex depicted in this, or any of my stories.
Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
*.*
"Jerry, no!" Michelle begged.
"Quiet, woman!" Jerry Stevens snarled, shoving the petite woman away.
Michelle staggered from the force of the shove. She fell against the kitchen table and knocked one of the chairs to the floor.
"Ooh, big man, pushing a woman around," Billy Stevens sneered. "Hey, Dad, why don't you try pushing me, huh? Oh. That's right. You're too much of a pussy push a real man."
"Shit. You really think you a real man? Huh?" Jerry let out a mocking laugh.
"More of a man than you, cock sucker," Billy taunted. "Least I don't need slap little girls make me feel all big and shit. But I guess if I had a tiny penis..."
The taunt had the desired effect. Jerry lashed out, swinging his fist at the nineteen year old boy's smug face.
Billy easily slapped his father's fist aside and delivered a jab straight at his father's snarling mouth. The punch was a solid one, jarring several teeth loose.
Jerry's lips naturally curled around his teeth and Billy gave the man's mouth a left hook that cut into the flesh. Jerry staggered back, spitting out blood and teeth.
Billy's next punch smashed the man's nose and a geyser of blood erupted. Having no fight left, Jerry sat heavily on the kitchen floor.
"Leave! Get thee gone from my house, you spawn of Satan, you son of Jezebel!" Jerry ordered.
"Daddy! No," Sarah cried out, hands reaching out to Billy.
"I will not have such an evil, violent thug in my home," Jerry said, the blood dripping freely from his broken nose.
"Jerry, please, no," Michelle also sobbed.
With tears in his eyes, Billy hugged his sixteen year old sister. He kissed her softly, told her he loved her, told her to take care.
Then he hugged his step-mother Michelle. She clung to him, sobbing, which brought even more tears to Billy's eyes.
"You. You stand, so pompous, so sanctimonious and proud. Sunday after Sunday," Billy sneered at the man that sat on the floor. "Telling those people how they should live their lives. You make me sick."
"Go. Go to your real father, the Prince of Darkness, Lord of the Underground," Jerry ordered.
With his bloodied face, missing and loose teeth, though, Jerry's edict came out garbled, thick and slurred.
"And you're not taking my car," Jerry thought to add as Billy turned to leave.
"Oh, Bull shit, you fucking self-righteous sack of shit," Billy said, grabbing his father by a handful of greased hair. "Oh Bull fucking shit. That is my car. MY car. It was my reward for getting straight A's through high school. I am not taking your car, it is my car."
Slamming the man's head back against the linoleum floor brought on more blood. It also brought on more screams from Sarah and Michelle. Billy looked down at the groaning man.
"Good bye," Billy said. "Good bye, and fuck you."
Billy drove Down Memorial Highway. He blazed a path from Oldenburg, Arkansas to the Louisiana state line. In Arkansas, the Reverend Jerry Stevens was somewhat of a big deal. He had many friends and many people that owed him favors in Lowen County. But his fingers did not reach into Northern Louisiana.
The animosity had been brewing, had been building for as long as Billy could remember. It seemed to him that he could not remember a time when his father had not been upset with him, had not been disappointed with him. Ever since his mother left with her boyfriend, Reverend Jerry Stevens had been blaming Billy for his own unhappiness.
Sarah. Sarah had idolized her big brother. Billy did not know if he would like being a big brother, especially to a girl; girls were stupid. But he looked into her big blue eyes, saw her dimpled smile and heard her coo happily and knew his destiny in life was to be a big brother.
Michelle had been a blessing, an oasis for Billy. The petite brunette had come in, all beautiful smiles and soft smells and soft hugs and sweet kisses and loving words. She had made Billy feel wanted, made him feel loved.
For a while, for a little while, Michelle and Sarah had calmed, had tempered Reverend Jerry Stevens's anger, his unhappiness. For a while, Billy was not under constant scrutiny. Then came the fateful day Billy brought home a less than perfect report card. Six A's and one B. Jerry had taken his broad white vinyl belt off and had blistered Billy's bare backside. Michelle begged and pleaded with Jerry to stop. But Jerry did not stop until his belt cut Billy's flesh.
Michelle sobbed and prayed as she tended to Billy's mottled flesh. Then she hugged and kissed Billy. Billy developed a tough exterior from that day forward.
But seeing his father slap Sarah, his baby sister, for the unforgiveable sin of bringing home an 83 on an Algebra test had finally let the pressure explode. This morning, with that one slap to his sweet sister's face the pressure had finally blown sky high.
Once in Paulton, Louisiana, Billy saw a First Union Bank. Billy had worked odd jobs, handy man, cutting lawns, raking leaves, even babysitting the occasional kid. Since he'd not been allowed to date any of the 'sinful harlots' that attended James Conway High School, every penny Billy had made had gone into his bank account. That money, along with birthday money and Christmas money from his mother's mother and his two uncles, his mother's brothers also went into the savings account.
Billy did not put it past his father to march into Lowen County First National Bank and demand they transfer Billy's money into his own account. He also did not put it past Sherri Pruitt to do exactly as his father demanded.
A smiling woman at First Union Bank helped Billy to open a new account with the two hundred dollars he had in his wallet. She also advised that, until he had more permanent lodgings, he open a P.O. Box there in Paulton.
Account and temporary address secured, Billy then returned to the First Union Bank branch and had his Savings account transferred from Lowen County to First Union.
(Billy beat his father by twenty hours. Sherri Pruitt was quite apologetic, but no, there was no way to get that seven thousand two hundred and eight dollars back.)
Safely in Louisiana, and with no destination in mind, Billy drove south on Highway 467. He knew he would not be returning to Arkansas. He knew he would not be returning to Myndee University, even though he was carrying a 4.0 GPA.
A diner in Stepping Stone, Louisiana promised to have the best chili in Stepping Stone. After a bowl of the miserable stuff, Billy wondered just how bad the winner of second place in that chili contest had been.
The small grocery store had several selections of antacid tablets; Billy smirked at this. Obviously, he wasn't the only one affected by 'the best chili in Stepping Stone.'
At the cash register, a gangly, pimple faced girl was arguing with the cashier. It seemed the girl wanted a particular brand of soap, which the small store did not carry.
"But it's made, right there, in Kimble. Right there, on fifty two," the girl said, even pointing in the direction of the small town she'd named.
"Then go to Kimble," the cashier said.
Having no destination in mind, Billy thought Kimble sounded as good as any other place. Chewing three of the antacid tablets, Billy wondered what cherries the manufacturer thought these tablets tasted like. Then he looked up Kimble, Louisiana on his phone.
"And fifty two's right down here," Billy mused, actually glancing up at Highway 467 and swiveling his head to the right.
Continuing west on Highway 52, Billy saw a small sign announcing that he had arrived in Kimble, Louisiana. Glancing around, he saw a building with 'A&A Soaps' painted on the cinderblock wall.
"I wonder, I bet that's the soap that girl was talking about," Billy smiled.
He shrugged his shoulders and pulled into the small parking lot. Again, with a shrug, Billy got out, stretched his legs a little, then walked into the building.
There were several noises, a cacophony of sound that assaulted him as he stepped into the building. Several mixers were whining, two machines were shaking containers with a rapid 'thump-thump-thump' and a machine was pumping cardboard pellets into a cardboard box.
There were several smells that assaulted him as he stepped in. He could not identify any of the odors, but none of them were unpleasant smells, just strong smells.
"Hi! Help you?" a very cute woman with shoulder length blonde hair chirped.
Billy smiled, imagining that this is what Sarah would look like when she was in her late twenties; bright blue eyes, blonde hair, dimpled smile. Unlike Sarah's straight hair, this woman's hair was ringlets of blonde curls. But just like Sarah, this woman was almost completely flat up top.
"Hi. I was in a grocery store in, in, in, oh shoot, Stepping Stone and this girl was asking them why did they not have A and A Soaps and I said, I'm looking for a job and I'll bet they'll hire me," Billy blurted out.
"Well, we've like got this exclusive contract with T. Dayton's so like we can't sell anywhere else 'cept on-line," Toni Delacroix smiled. "But like, I really appreciate that girl like asking about us. Said you're like looking for a job?"
"Yes ma'am," Billy agreed.
"Here, like fill this out," Toni said, tearing an application form from a pad.
"Hmm," Billy said, looking at the application form. "Uh, ma'am? Where it says address? Right now, I'm living out of a P.O. box in Paulton."
"I uh, I've got a room for rent," a chubby middle aged woman said. "Trailer right up the street; could come in together."
"Well, like, there you go," Toni smiled. "But I've got like a ton of stuff get out; UPS will be here in like any minute now."
Cheryl Goodwin gave Billy her address for the application form. She smiled and preened, thrusting her substantial chest nearly in his face as she leaned across the counter.
With his shaggy blond hair, sharp blue eyes, and muscled frame, Billy was no stranger to women's attentions. And, at Myndee University, once out of his father's sight, Billy did partake of the pleasures of the flesh.
"One fifty a week," Cheryl said, again thrusting her chest toward Billy. "But uh, I'm sure, you do a few chores around the place? We can bring that down a little?"
"Yes ma'am," Billy smiled, showing straight white teeth.
Craig Goodwin shrugged when a stranger showed up at his dinner table. But, one hundred and fifty dollars a week did sound good.
