Read Online Three Sides of the Tracks by Mike Addington - Free Book Online

luckily in the opposite
direction of Caroline, but still splashing a good amount on Richard’s pants.
“You fixin’ to get your butt whipped, boy. Thurston warned you ‘bout messin’ with
his woman.”
    Caroline jumped from the chair and pushed Johnny away, or tried to. He
didn’t budge.
    Richard grasped Caroline’s arm. “Come on, Caroline, I’d better get you
out of here.”
    Thurston appeared and pushed his buddies aside. “You ain’t going nowhere,
pretty boy. Not with my girl.” He slapped Richard’s hand off Caroline’s arm, grabbed
her wrist and pulled her to within inches of his face. “I told you plain you’re
my woman, Caroline. I came here tonight expecting us to be together and find
you holding hands with this turd.”
His head swiveled to Richard. “I warned you the other day, buddy. Now, I’m
going to make you wish you’d listened.”
    Another four or five guys, all football players, joined the group
surrounding Richard. “Get his stuck-up ass, Thurston. Walking around school
like he’s hot shit.”
    Before Thurston could say anything, Johnny jumped on Richard, got him in
a headlock and bent him sideways to cut off his wind.
    Richard stomped Johnny’s ankle. There was a cracking sound, and Johnny
fell to the floor. His head banged off the hard wood.
    “You punk,” Thurston shouted and threw a hard right hand at Richard’s jaw
that sounded like a balloon popping when it hit. Richard turned a half circle,
knees wobbly.
    Caroline grabbed Thurston’s arm, but he snatched it away and slapped her
with the back of his hand. She crashed and flailed through the row of chairs
and banged her head against the wall. Stunned but conscious, she tried to stand
but tangled in the chairs again and tumbled to the ground. Teresa Weaver helped
her up and guided them both around the melee, Caroline too dazed to know where
she was.
    Richard steadied himself enough to throw a punch at Thurston, but the
300-hundred pound Big Tony grabbed his arm just as he swung.
    Thurston’s next blow hit Richard square in the face. Blood shot from a
broken nose and split lip, and Richard’s knees sagged.
    Big Tony held him up while Thurston punched Richard again. The cheekbone
cracked so loud everyone heard it.
    Suddenly the expression on Big Tony’s face changed. “Look out,” he
shouted.
    Thurston felt a brief flash of pain before he hit the floor unconscious.
    Big Tony took it next; a blow to his stomach left him retching the liquor
he’d been drinking all night.
    Another one, Butch, ducked as the lead singer’s microphone stand sailed
just over his head.
    “You don’t know what you gettin’ into, Danny boy,” Butch said, just
before Danny threw the stand down and hit him six staccato punches.
    Jimmie Decker, Michael Dunn, Tommy Whitehead, and a half-dozen other boys
jumped on the other football players, and the melee became a riot.
    Thurston was out cold, so Danny straddled Big Tony and rained blows on
his head before he could get his wind back.
    “Stop it, Danny, stop. I quit,” Tony wheezed between broken teeth. “You
win. You win.”
    “What? I can’t hear you,” Danny stood up and stomped Tony’s ample gut.
Tony rolled slowly to one side struggling to get a breath.
    Danny looked around for someone else to hit, but the rest of the football
players were lying in various states of disarray, bloodied and scattered around
the floor while Danny’s friends taunted them.
    “We’ll get y’all for this,” one of them said.
    “Yeah, you’re real bad asses,” Dunn said. “Dozen of you punks jumping on
one guy. We’ll let y’all wear your helmets next time ‘cause it’ll be worse if
you want more.”
    No other responses came from the football players. Those who managed to
stand were wobbly. The rest still lay on the floor or sat up wiping blood off
their faces with their shirttails.
    Danny found Thurston, stooped down, and grabbed a handful of hair. He
shook Thurston’s head till his eyes flickered