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Authors: James McNally
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me about yourself?”
“What do you want to hear?”
“Everything,” she said.
He hesitated for a minute, and then decided he would tell her what happened in his life to bring him into Antony’s orbit. He kind of wanted to tell it—needed to, really—so he could cleanse his mind of that dark past and be done with it once and for all. Not to mention it would also help pass the time.
“My father died—my real father—when I was three, so I never really knew him. I have vague memories, but that’s about it. My mother didn’t like to be alone and her remedy for loneliness was an armada of ‘Uncles’ she would bring home. After I turned seven she married one of these uncles, a man named Ralph. At first he was no different from the myriad other men that passed through the door, except this one never left. He also had something else none of the others had. He owned two purebred blue pit bulls named Ghost and Frankenstein. Ghost was almost completely that bluish gray color that makes the breed so beautiful, and Frankie was a splotchy gray and brown with a white belly. They were brothers.
“Our house was a two-bedroom shack on the north end of Philly. Mobile Street, but it was more like a back alley than a street. The house was drafty in the winter and stifling in the summer, but it was home and I was used to it.
“I learned from the age of ten that I was attractive, at least the girls at school seemed to think so. I was always surrounded by girls, and although I never officially agreed to be exclusive with any of them Darlene Clawson considered me her property sometime during middle school. She would get extremely jealous if the other girls showed me any attention. She especially didn’t like Rachael Mc Fadden because I showed the most interest in her. But Rachael wasn’t one of the girls who hung around me, so I couldn’t get to know her as I would have liked. But then, if she had been like all the other girls that scuttled around me I probably would have ignored her like I did them. But she was unattainable, so I was into her.
“I was ashamed of my home life so I never invited people home, and I would tell them lies about how great my life was just to sound cool. I used my meager allowance, and money I made doing other people’s homework, at the Good Will and bought designer clothes that I wouldn’t have been able to afford otherwise. No one knew I couldn’t afford new American Eagle or Hollister jeans. Sometimes the clothes were too small but since I was thin and muscular this just made me look like a trend setter.
“I was twelve the first time Ralph took me hunting. The dogs were with us, but no one else came. It was not what I call exciting, but I did enjoy being outside. Learning to shoot was fun, too; but little else about hunting with Ralph could be described that way.
“Ralph was a serious hunter. He wore camouflage greens with a hunting cap and combat boots. His favorite hunting knife was a sharp Bowie with a green camouflage handle. It was the knife I would eventually decapitate him with, but right now it was his turn to do the damage. And on this hunting trip, I would soon learn the true meaning of fear.
“The dogs were moving ahead, sniffing the ground and marking trees. When we located a flock of pheasant, the dogs rooted them out and Ralph took aim. He took down two of the birds. He was a good shot.
“‘Why didn’t you shoot, boy?’ he asked and cuffed the back of my head.
“‘Cut it out,’ I griped.
“‘Don’t talk back you little wimp or I’ll give you worse than that.’ He walked ahead and I raced to keep up. ‘Next flock I expect you to take a bird of your own, hear what I’m saying?’
“I said I
“What do you want to hear?”
“Everything,” she said.
He hesitated for a minute, and then decided he would tell her what happened in his life to bring him into Antony’s orbit. He kind of wanted to tell it—needed to, really—so he could cleanse his mind of that dark past and be done with it once and for all. Not to mention it would also help pass the time.
“My father died—my real father—when I was three, so I never really knew him. I have vague memories, but that’s about it. My mother didn’t like to be alone and her remedy for loneliness was an armada of ‘Uncles’ she would bring home. After I turned seven she married one of these uncles, a man named Ralph. At first he was no different from the myriad other men that passed through the door, except this one never left. He also had something else none of the others had. He owned two purebred blue pit bulls named Ghost and Frankenstein. Ghost was almost completely that bluish gray color that makes the breed so beautiful, and Frankie was a splotchy gray and brown with a white belly. They were brothers.
“Our house was a two-bedroom shack on the north end of Philly. Mobile Street, but it was more like a back alley than a street. The house was drafty in the winter and stifling in the summer, but it was home and I was used to it.
“I learned from the age of ten that I was attractive, at least the girls at school seemed to think so. I was always surrounded by girls, and although I never officially agreed to be exclusive with any of them Darlene Clawson considered me her property sometime during middle school. She would get extremely jealous if the other girls showed me any attention. She especially didn’t like Rachael Mc Fadden because I showed the most interest in her. But Rachael wasn’t one of the girls who hung around me, so I couldn’t get to know her as I would have liked. But then, if she had been like all the other girls that scuttled around me I probably would have ignored her like I did them. But she was unattainable, so I was into her.
“I was ashamed of my home life so I never invited people home, and I would tell them lies about how great my life was just to sound cool. I used my meager allowance, and money I made doing other people’s homework, at the Good Will and bought designer clothes that I wouldn’t have been able to afford otherwise. No one knew I couldn’t afford new American Eagle or Hollister jeans. Sometimes the clothes were too small but since I was thin and muscular this just made me look like a trend setter.
“I was twelve the first time Ralph took me hunting. The dogs were with us, but no one else came. It was not what I call exciting, but I did enjoy being outside. Learning to shoot was fun, too; but little else about hunting with Ralph could be described that way.
“Ralph was a serious hunter. He wore camouflage greens with a hunting cap and combat boots. His favorite hunting knife was a sharp Bowie with a green camouflage handle. It was the knife I would eventually decapitate him with, but right now it was his turn to do the damage. And on this hunting trip, I would soon learn the true meaning of fear.
“The dogs were moving ahead, sniffing the ground and marking trees. When we located a flock of pheasant, the dogs rooted them out and Ralph took aim. He took down two of the birds. He was a good shot.
“‘Why didn’t you shoot, boy?’ he asked and cuffed the back of my head.
“‘Cut it out,’ I griped.
“‘Don’t talk back you little wimp or I’ll give you worse than that.’ He walked ahead and I raced to keep up. ‘Next flock I expect you to take a bird of your own, hear what I’m saying?’
“I said I
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