Read Online Jabberwock Jack by Dennis Liggio - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Dennis Liggio
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town alone just to get into a fight? Why wouldn't you bring friends? If not to help, just to show off. You're just asking to get beaten or stabbed by pissing off the one wrong person. People in South Egan are generally good, but it was still the east side of town, you could end up with the one Russian gangster visiting a relative.
"We don't want any trouble," I said, feeling suddenly like someone out of an old Western. "This is our neighborhood bar, we just want to drink in peace."
"You should have thought of that before you got up in my face," he said.
I looked around in confusion. I hadn't even stood up yet. I was still in my chair with this idiot looming over me.
"They should bulldoze this whole fucking neighborhood, like they're doing with North Egan," continued the frat boy. "Get you fucking rats out of here."
Lem immediately stood up in anger. In general, we hated when people from better neighborhoods looked down on us. It was a sore spot, but at least we could deal with it. The whole destruction and gentrification of North Egan which might drive us out was yet another sore spot. It was a looming issue, but it still hadn't affected us yet. Except for Lem. He had just had to move his aunt because of it. This was a personal issue for him.
I'd like to say I was the guy who kept his cool. I wanted to be the guy who didn't take this asshole's bait. I should have grabbed Lem's arm and kept him from standing, so we could avert this fight that the frat boy really wanted. But I didn't. I like to call myself a man of principles. The main principle that drives my monster hunting is I'm willing to risk my life for others. I put myself in danger so that others won't have to. Some call it admirable, while others I've known in the past have said that it's just an excuse to be suicidal. Whatever the case, that principle triggered here. I wouldn't say Lem couldn't handle himself in a fight, but he was no career brawler like my brother and I. And I don't think I could sit by and let Lem take this one.
I stood up nearly as quickly as Lem, my chair falling to the side. The frat boy who had the looming height advantage while we all sat now had me actually up in his face, since he stood right behind my chair. We were about the same height, so I was eye to eye with him. The look in his eyes said he wanted to do this, that it wasn't false bluster. He hadn't been pulling some power trip where he got off by us backing down and being cowardly. No, this guy wanted to cause someone pain. And the alcohol on his breath told me he had loaded himself up with Irish Courage.
"Shall we take this outside?" he said through gritted teeth.
This surprised me. That was surprisingly civil considered the lengths he had gone through to pick a fight here. Maybe he didn't want to get hit by a chair or a bar stool. I saw Szandor grabbing my chair, but whether to pick it back up or hit this douchebag I didn't know.
But I nodded in agreement, even with this concern. "Okay, let's do this." I stepped past the frat boy toward the door. He turned to walk with me. Sucker. I took about a step, then turned casually, as if I were going to say something to Maybell. And in this turn I suckerpunched the frat boy.
Say what you want about how dishonorable or dickish that might be. I argue that this fight had no honor or class to begin with. He had wanted to pick a fight and my emotions got the better of me and I accepted. Even for all my principle, there was no reason for this fight. It was all testosterone and alcohol. It was a brawl and that had no rules.
The frat boy fell immediately. I was actually surprised about this. I expected him to stumble or fall off his feet. Then I could either prove my point or end the fight. I didn't expect him to have a glass jaw. Maybe it was just the surprise punch?
He began falling, his body completely unconscious. I grabbed at his shirt, trying to keep him standing. Unconscious people fall a lot more violently than stumbling people.
"We don't want any trouble," I said, feeling suddenly like someone out of an old Western. "This is our neighborhood bar, we just want to drink in peace."
"You should have thought of that before you got up in my face," he said.
I looked around in confusion. I hadn't even stood up yet. I was still in my chair with this idiot looming over me.
"They should bulldoze this whole fucking neighborhood, like they're doing with North Egan," continued the frat boy. "Get you fucking rats out of here."
Lem immediately stood up in anger. In general, we hated when people from better neighborhoods looked down on us. It was a sore spot, but at least we could deal with it. The whole destruction and gentrification of North Egan which might drive us out was yet another sore spot. It was a looming issue, but it still hadn't affected us yet. Except for Lem. He had just had to move his aunt because of it. This was a personal issue for him.
I'd like to say I was the guy who kept his cool. I wanted to be the guy who didn't take this asshole's bait. I should have grabbed Lem's arm and kept him from standing, so we could avert this fight that the frat boy really wanted. But I didn't. I like to call myself a man of principles. The main principle that drives my monster hunting is I'm willing to risk my life for others. I put myself in danger so that others won't have to. Some call it admirable, while others I've known in the past have said that it's just an excuse to be suicidal. Whatever the case, that principle triggered here. I wouldn't say Lem couldn't handle himself in a fight, but he was no career brawler like my brother and I. And I don't think I could sit by and let Lem take this one.
I stood up nearly as quickly as Lem, my chair falling to the side. The frat boy who had the looming height advantage while we all sat now had me actually up in his face, since he stood right behind my chair. We were about the same height, so I was eye to eye with him. The look in his eyes said he wanted to do this, that it wasn't false bluster. He hadn't been pulling some power trip where he got off by us backing down and being cowardly. No, this guy wanted to cause someone pain. And the alcohol on his breath told me he had loaded himself up with Irish Courage.
"Shall we take this outside?" he said through gritted teeth.
This surprised me. That was surprisingly civil considered the lengths he had gone through to pick a fight here. Maybe he didn't want to get hit by a chair or a bar stool. I saw Szandor grabbing my chair, but whether to pick it back up or hit this douchebag I didn't know.
But I nodded in agreement, even with this concern. "Okay, let's do this." I stepped past the frat boy toward the door. He turned to walk with me. Sucker. I took about a step, then turned casually, as if I were going to say something to Maybell. And in this turn I suckerpunched the frat boy.
Say what you want about how dishonorable or dickish that might be. I argue that this fight had no honor or class to begin with. He had wanted to pick a fight and my emotions got the better of me and I accepted. Even for all my principle, there was no reason for this fight. It was all testosterone and alcohol. It was a brawl and that had no rules.
The frat boy fell immediately. I was actually surprised about this. I expected him to stumble or fall off his feet. Then I could either prove my point or end the fight. I didn't expect him to have a glass jaw. Maybe it was just the surprise punch?
He began falling, his body completely unconscious. I grabbed at his shirt, trying to keep him standing. Unconscious people fall a lot more violently than stumbling people.
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