Hardway, page 8
“I will,” Eddie says. “In a second.” Turning his attention back to Spencer he says, “Well? What do you say? Do you, in the immortal words of pussies everywhere, you give up?” he asks, jamming the microphone in Spencer’s face.
Spencer tries to pull the words from wherever things like those are stored, but he can’t find them He tries to tell himself saying the words will not only end the beating, but finish this thing and bring back Tori. But even so the words don’t come out. Not even when Eddie starts prodding him with the microphone and making oinking sounds. Not even when Eddie gets up and starts kicking him again.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
The words are the cymbal falling on a stage. They silence the crowd, and stop Eddie mid kick. With the taste of bile and blood in his mouth, Spencer looks up and watches Eddie take a step back. His eyes are wide with something Spencer is intimately familiar with.
Fear.
Spencer turns to look at the direction Eddie’s gaze is fixated on. At first his vision fights him, showing him nothing but blurred images, but it doesn’t take long for them to solidify into human outlines, and then into someone he recognizes.
Tori stands next to a short, barrel chested man whom Spencer doesn’t know. Her posture is rigid, one arm crossed over her chest while the other hangs limply from her side. She’s staring down at the ground.
“Tori,” Spencer hears Billy say.
“I asked a question,” the man says. He never raises his voice, doesn’t even move from the spot he’s standing in, and yet there is a noticeable difference in the crowd’s attitude. The thrall Eddie had them under is already dissipating, the ripple of indecision and confusion moving through the crowd and turning into a wave. Spencer can’t help but note how almost everyone in the crowd does their best not to meet the man’s eyes.
All but Eddie, who leans forward into the ring ropes and with a shake voice says, “Dad.” Spencer laughs.
CHAPTER 15
EDDIE’S DAD DOESN’T HAVE a mohawk.
It’s an odd detail to focus on, but Spencer does so anyways, because it’s one of the few things his tired and strained mind can grab hold of and not be in danger of short-circuiting. Instead Eddie’s father keeps his hair closely cropped to his skull, highlighting ridges, bumps and scars. He’s a short man with the built of a beer keg, muscled arms stretching the sleeves of the t-shirt he’s wearing like tattooed trees breaking through the soil. Standing in the center of Woodland Terrace’s wrestling ring, Eddie’s dad reaches into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out a pack of cigarettes.
Spencer doesn’t know much about Eddie’s father, but the way he cut short the beating his son was giving him, end the entire show, and disperse the crowd with just a couple of words tells him he is someone everyone around here listens to.
Leaning awkwardly against one of the ring’s corner post, Spencer’s head rests against the middle turnbuckle pad. His entire body is sore, and there’s a towel dabbed with blood on his lap. Eddie, Tori, and Billy stand only a couple of feet away, Eddie’s father pacing back and forth in front of them. Other than the five of them inside the ring, there is no one else around. A tingle of worry courses through Spencer’s spine.
“I’ll ask again, what the fuck is going on here?” Eddie’s father asks, pulling out a cigarette from a pack.
“Nothing, Dad,” Eddie says, shifting from foot to foot, body oil dripping down and forming a stain on the mat. Next to him are Billy and Tori, looking like fishes ripped from their aquarium and put on a kitchen counter. Spencer wants to get up and go over to them, but his body refuses his orders and remains sitting on the mat.
“Nothing, Dad,” Eddie’s father mimics his son’s words. “Bull. Shit. If nothing was going on, then I wouldn’t have gotten a call from Mike telling me to haul my ass back here before my son did something stupid. Shit, boy, you just cost me five hundred bucks for an easy ass haul to Oklahoma.”
Eddie looks down at the armrest. All the bravado, all the attitude he’d shown on every other occasion is gone, having retreated to some small and dark corner.
“I come home and find her,” Eddie’s father points to Tori, “tied up in the living room and my fucking piece gone. So I’m going to ask one last time, and for your sake, you better start talking, boy.”
“They started it!” Eddie shouts, pointing to Tori. “She and those two stole our stash.” His finger moves to accuse Billy, then Spencer. “I was just trying to make things right, Dad.”
The man steps up to his son and smiles. With a smile still on his face he punches Eddie, sending him falling down into the mat to get tangled with the lower ring rope.
Billy and Tori move farther to the right side.
“How many times have I told you that the stash isn’t yours?”
Wiping away the blood from his lip, Eddie doesn’t meet his dad’s glare. “Sorry, Dad.”
“You’re a kid, not some fucking drug dealer. Where the fuck is my gun?”
“In my room.”
“Go get it. Now. And will you fucking change out of whatever gay shit you’re wearing?”
Eddie rolls out of the ring. “Fucking kid,” Eddie’s father mutters, watching as his son takes a left and disappears behind a building. Digging into his pockets one more time, he asks, “Any of you three have a lighter?”
Spencer shakes his head and he thinks he hears Billy say a soft no.
“Fuck it,” Eddie’s father says, tossing the cigarette down to the floor. Turning his attention to Tori, he frowns.
“Didn’t you use to live here?”
Tori nods.
“And you dated Eddie, right?”
Another nod.
Eddie’s father grunts. “Always told him you were too hot to stick around. What’s your name again, sweetheart?”
Spencer notices his brother tensing at Eddie’s father’s words. Tori must have too, because she reaches over and squeezes his hand. “Tori,” she tells the Eddie’s father.
“Tori. Maybe you can explain things to me. Is it true what my son said? Did you three steal my shit?”
“Not her,” Billy speaks up. “Me and my brother. Ain’t that right, Spencer?”
Spencer understands what his brother is doing. “Yeah. Me and Billy. We broke into your place, found the bag, and took it.”
“Did you now?” Eddie’s father looks down at Spencer. “And that’s why my son was kicking the shit out of you?”
“And because he’s an asshole.” Spencer says without thinking.
Eddies father laughs and walks to Spencer, a grin on his face. “Isn’t he?” Eddie’s father says, leaning against the ring ropes and swiftly pressing his foot into Spencer’s bruised side. Immediate pain radiates up and down Spencer’s body, and he lets out a yell of pain.
“Stop it Mr. Travis!” Tori shouts. “They’re lying, they didn’t break into your house. I did.”
“She’s lying!” Spencer says, his body clenching through the pain.
With a sigh, Mr. Travis releases the pressure on Spencer’s side and looks from at the three of them, his hands on his hips. Spencer thinks of his father, and he wonders if all parents end up adapting the same pose at some point or another. Suddenly, all he wants to do is go home.
“Getting real sick and tired of all the lies here. Let’s see if I can sparse some shit out. You all,” Mr. Travis motions to the Billy, Tori, and Spencer, “or one of you three, or two of you three, you stole my weed, right?”
No one speaks. Mr. Travis glances at them and steps forward, his hand shooting out and grabbing Billy by the throat. “Yes. Or no.”
“Yes,” Tori says, trying to pull Mr. Travis’s arm away.
“But we didn’t mean to,” adds Spencer.
“Oh, well, if you didn’t mean to,” Mr. Travis says, pulling his hand back. Billy gasps and sucks in a lungful of air. “I guess that’s all that matters then.”
“We didn’t know we took it, we swear. We were looking for something else,” Spencer says and tries to get up, only for the pain to be too much. He slumps back against the post.
“What were you looking for?” Mr. Travis asks.
Again, there’s silence. As much as Spencer wants this to be over, he can’t bring himself to reveal the reason why all this started. Tori, on the other hand doesn’t seem to have any qualms about it.
“Photos of me that your son took. Private photos which he said he was going to show to everyone.”
“Shit, really?” Mr. Travis says, and Spencer swears he hears a touch of pride in his voice.
“We just wanted the photos back,” Tori continues
“Explain to me how photos and my weed look alike, then,” Mr. Travis says.
“Don’t listen to them,” Eddie says. He’s back and changed from his wrestling gear and into a pair of sweatpants and shirt. He steps inside the ring, the gun is held in his right hand. “All that matters is that they stole your weed and my belt. And then they tried to sell the weed back to Mike. Probably to use the money and try to make their shitty wrestling promotion more like mine.”
“I knew it,” Eddie’s father says, turning to look at his son. “I fucking knew it.” He looks at Eddie, shaking his head. “This ain’t for some slut photos. It’s all because of your stupid wrestling thing, ain’t it? Christ, it’s not enough that you look like a goddamn homo grabbing your friends around, or the fuckload of calls I’ve gotten over this stupid ring I let you set up. Now it’s fucking my business.”
“I was just trying to—”
“That’s the thing with you Eddie. You never try. You just fuck up. I want all this,” he stops and motions around him, “Gone by tomorrow. Now give me the gun before you shoot yourself.”
“But Dad—”
“Give me the gun, Eddie.” Mr. Travis steps towards his son.
Eddie glances down at the gun on his hand and then raises it, pointing it at his father. “No.”
Eddie’s father blinks. “Give me the fucking gun.”
“No!” Eddie shouts. “I’ll fix this, Dad.” He swivels his aim so that it’s pointing to Billy. “I’ll show everyone not to mess with the Travis men.”
Billy stays frozen, his eyes glued to the gun. He opens his mouth, as if to say something, but nothing comes out. “Eddie, please don’t do this,” Tori whispers.
“You guys shouldn’t have stole from us.” Eddie’s voice cracks, but the gun doesn’t waver.
“You can have your belt back,” Spencer says. Unzipping the backpack which is by his feet, he reaches in and pulls out the Woodland Terrace belt. “See?” he says.
“It’s too late,” Eddie says. “We have to teach you a lesson about what happens when you mess with us, right Dad?”
“Quit fucking around and give me the gun, Eddie. That’s the last time I ask.”
“I’m not fucking around!” Eddie shouts, turning to point the gun at his dad. “I’m making things right.”
Mr. Travis stands perfectly still. “Okay, okay, I get it, you’re making things right.”
“And I’m not a screw up. And wrestling isn’t gay!” Eddie shouts. “Now who’s going to get it first? Should it be Billy? Maybe Tori? Or you, Spencer?”
Spencer holds the wrestling belt in his hand as the gun is aimed at him. “Please just let us go, Eddie. You have everything back now.”
“Too late for that,” Eddie says. His eyes are bloodshot.
Do something. Do something. Spencer shouts to his limbs, attempting to will them into action. But his limbs, are hypnotized by the gun pointed at him. He can’t even bring himself to cry.
It’s Tori who ends up doing something. She throws herself at Eddie, the two tumbling down to the mat, the gun slipping out of Eddie’s hand. Billy takes Tori’s cue runs at Eddie’s father.
Unlike his son, Mr. Travis sees the attack coming and readies himself. He waits until Billy is almost on him, feints to the left and throws a right hook which lands on Billy’s forehead. Spencer brother reels back and crumples down to the mat.
“Fucking kids,” Mr. Travis says, walking towards Tori and Eddie, who continue to struggle on the floor. “I’m done with this shit.” He bends down to pick the gun up.
DO SOMETHING. The neurons in Spencer’s brain kickstart his body and he’s able to stand, though not without every part of his body screaming in pain. Continuing to hold on to the wrestling belt, and in unsteady legs, Spencer walks over to Eddie’s father, who is just standing up, gun in his hand. He’s points it at Billy just as Spencer lets out a yell and runs at him. The yell vibrates in his throat, packed with all the frustration, jealousy, and anger he’s been holding onto, and it catches Mr. Travis’ attention. He swivels and turns towards Spencer, just as Spencer grips the belt by its end and swings it as hard as he can.
The sound the belt makes when it connects with Mr. Travis’s face is louder than Spencer expected, louder than when it happens in televised wrestling. Mr. Travis also doesn’t go down as fast as they do in television either. He takes a step to the left and wavers, blood trickling from his forehead. Raising the gun, it looks like he’s going to pull the trigger when Spencer swings the belt again, hitting him on the other side of the head. The sound is even louder than before, the jolt of the belt almost throwing Spencer off balance.
Eddie’s father goes down to the floor.
Billy is back on his feet and runs to Tori, who is still rolling on the floor with Eddie. Before he can reach her, Tori grabs Eddie’s mohawk with both hands and knees him in the groin. Eddie lets out a cry, sliding away from her while holding his groin.
Spencer is still trying to catch his breath. He’s exhausted, all the adrenaline which carried him up from the recliner now gone, replaced with an aching so deep he wants to cry. His whole body hurts so much, and the ring won’t stop spinning. But he smiles. Because he did something good, something brave. Something for himself. The belt is still in his hand, but it’s getting heavier and heavier by the second, so he drops it.
“Spencer, you’re bleeding.”
Billy is helping Tori up from the floor when she says this. Spencer wants to smile and tell her he’s been bleeding for most of the day, but he’s so damned tired.
The mat looks so inviting. Like an island of rest. Spencer tries to take a step towards only to find the entire ring tilting at an angle. Blinking, he glances at Tori and Billy, finding only blurred figures at the edge of his vision. Another blink, and for the first time he feels the wetness on his side. Shaky fingers move to his right side, where his shirt feels stickier than usual. He knows it before his fingertips land on the dampness, before he brings them back up to his face and sees them stained with red.
“Help.” The word is slurred, and he isn’t even sure it fully comes out. His knees buckle under him and Spencer falls to the ground. “Help,” he says again. He’s crying, the tears running down his cheeks.
“Spencer, Spencer.” His brother is next to him. “Call 9-1-1, Tori!” he hears Billy shout. “Come on, Billy, hang on. Shit, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I was a shitty brother.” Billy is crying. Spencer can’t remember the last time his brother cried. When their mother left. Spencer wants to tell him that he wasn’t a shitty brother, but he doesn’t, because he doesn’t think he should be lying when he’s about to die. That probably gets you banned from heaven automatically. He settles on telling Billy, “you weren’t always shitty.” Which is the truth.
Spencer closes his eyes and waits for the pin count.
CHAPTER 16
HOSPITAL FOOD SUCKS.
Spencer pushes away the half-eaten tray of food and sighs. What he wouldn’t give for the cheeseburger Carlos told him he would sneak in the next time he came to visit.
He hears a knock on his door, and looks up just in time to see Billy and Tori walk into the room.
Billy is still sporting the shiner he got from Mr. Travis, but otherwise looks just like always. Tori has her hair braided and is wearing a red summer dress which stands out in the sterile, white hospital room. Spencer glances to the machines he’s hooked up to, wondering if they’ll start beeping and going crazy like they would on a cartoon. But no, they just keep with their constant beep he’s learned to fall asleep to.
“Hey, Spence, how you holding up?” Billy asks. “Good,” Spencer answers. “Starving, but good.”
Picking up the gelatin off his tray, Billy plops down on the chair next to Spencer’s bed. “Look on the bright side. You already look thinner. A couple more weeks here and you’ll be a changed man.”
“Billy!” Tori says.
“What? That’d be a good thing.” Billy says in between mouthfuls of gelatin.
“Seriously, Spencer, you doing alright?” Tori asks him.
He nods. “As good as a guy can shot can be.”
“Count yourself lucky, bro. At least you’re not home with Dad. The guy hasn’t left me out of his sight in days.
And when he’s not around, he continuously checks up with me. Even when I’m at work.”
Billy had gotten an offer from Dairy Queen a day after Spencer was admitted to the hospital. The only reason their dad was allowing Billy to keep the jobwas because it made easier to check up on him. That, and all the money was being put away for college. Or a defense fund, depending on how things went.
“He’s waiting outside, by the way.”
“He’s been doing okay?” Spencer asks.
“Surprisingly, yeah.”
“What about your parents, Tori?”
“They’re taking things like you’d expect them to take. We’re umm, moving from Royal Brooks.”
Spencer sits up on his bed “Wait, what? You can’t. Why?”
“It’s okay, Spencer, relax,” Tori says. “We’re moving because they think this guy,” she points to Billy, “is a bad influence. Well, that and the rent increase.”
“Where are you moving to?”
“Oh, he’s going to love this,” Billy says.
“They’re thinking Woodland Terrace.”
Spencer stares at Tori with his mouth open.
Tori shrugs. “They have good move in specials, apparently. And with Eddie and his dad gone from there, they figure it’ll be okay.”
