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Carl’s
eyes closed. Funny, but if only Leda knew how many times the thought of Anna
saved her ass. Leda would probably kill herself out of spite. Carl was strongly
tempted to tell her and see if he got lucky.
“Kid,
I know the gelt ran out,” he said. Quiet, but not frighteningly so, Carl made
a motion with his shoulders. “You want, you can come with me anytime.
Throwing
Benny’s wary face a hard, mocking grin, Carl rumbled a laugh. “You come with
me, I want no B/S. You mess around up there like you do when we spar, and I’ll
tear you a new asshole.” He added, his eyes growing bright, “Pappy Bob said
he wants you to come.” Pretending it made little difference to him if Benny
came or not, Carl shrugged.
Benny
shifted, relaxing. His face glowed with delight. Pappy was Carl’s semi-adopted
father, and Benny liked the old dude. He was cool, but real tough. He had nabbed
Carl off of Carl’s mother, old lady Ivanoff, to keep her from using Carl as a
pimp. That had been something Carl really hadn’t minded, seeing how he had
been about fourteen then. It was how he had wound up in old lady Dubcheck's
foster home.
Pappy
and Carl, they were too much alike to really get along. The only thing that kept
him and Pappy from going at it was a fear of mutual annihilation. Yo
. . . .
“I
. . . donno, Papa-Bear.” Benny shrugged and kicked at a frost ravaged thistle.
“Man, you know I wanna go. But Scranton?” Benny thought of Ryan, only
minutes from the dojo and he shuddered.
Yo,
but still, man, Carl would be there.
Leda’s
eyes grew thoughtful.
The
old raven hissed in agitation, and shook his head at Benny.
Benny
glared up at it. Sometimes he could swear the old buzzard could read his mind.
Leda
glanced up, saw the raven, and quailed, her hands over her head, pressing at a
growing bald spot that was caused by the raven’s kamikaze-style thefts.
“Shoot,”
Carl squinted a grin at Benny, “It’s cool. It ain’t that much farther than
Hazleton. Not the way you go.” He chuckled. “And you won’t be having to
dodge all those strip mines and the magically disappearing Buck Mountain
Road.” Carl shuddered, and not from laughter. He’d had a few close calls on
that road when the new mining company re-routed it so they could move the mine.
Uncertain,
Benny squirmed.
Wilkes-Barre
was way too close for comfort as it was. Scranton and ‘Barre were twin cities,
running along the Susquehanna River. Ryan lived up that way, feeding on the
people, taking whatever he could siphon off after taxes took the glut of it all.
“At
least come up and look the place over, kid. Shut it.” Carl held up a badly
scarred hand, forestalling Benny’s worried scowl and negative reaction. Carl
leaned his arms on the bars.
“I’ll
teach you everything I know.”
The
raven squawked and shoved his head under a wing.
“Everything?
Honest?”
Two
Swords rumbled a groan and clapped a hand to his forehead.
Carl
nodded.
Benny
swallowed hard. He blinked rapidly at a stinging in his eyes. Man, but the dude
was - Carl? Was he pleading?
Fear
swelled in Benny. Benny trembled, wondering if Carl was all right, if maybe Leda
had done something to harm him. Something he would be too ashamed to tell
anybody.
“Ha:wa,
:doda YonV:ki.” He said it quietly, not trusting his voice not to crack
with emotion. Sure, Papa Bear.
Leda
sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes. New details, new plans are in
order. Maybe old man Ryan would like to hear about the kid taking lessons, and
in Scranton of all places. She smiled.
Carl
glanced at Leda and the elation in her flattened faster than a road-squirrel.
The
raven chortled, hoping for a chance at Leda’s hair.
“You
coming, Benny?”
Carl
grinned in delight at his step-son. He kicked down the cherry red Uohali and
ripped up the path. The rear tire scorned Benny with dirt and pine needles.
Scowling
one-eyed at Carl, chin tight against his chest, Benny shook the dirt out of his
hair and off his clothing. He gagged and spat a tiny red worm into his left
palm. Benny grimaced at it and spat again.
He
stooped and tucked the worm under a fallen leaf, then glared up at the raven.
“Gross.”
He gagged, and jumped to his Night Sun.
Kicking
her down hard, Benny followed Carl out to the Sandy Valley-Sandy Run Road.
For
this time of year it was warm. The sky was deep blue, the air smelled of pines
and faintly of the hickories and chestnuts ripening on the mountains.
Carl
dropped Leda off at the Wilkes-Barre/Wyoming Valley airport. He jerked his head
in the direction of Pittston and Bob White’s place, just outside of town.
They
roared through town, across the river, and up the Sullivan Trail, spotting Bob
on his way into town. They waved, falling in behind him.
The
day was exciting, painful, and not a little bloody.
Carl
held true to his word and showed Benny every dirty trick he had ever seen, done,
and heard about.
Carl
surprised Benny, came up on him when Benny was still trying to figure out a
certain twist, and Carl nailed Benny between the eyes with his heel.
The
stars faded, and all the church bells in both Scranton and Wilkes-Barre seemed
to be ringing in Benny’s ears at the same time.
He
blinked, grinned stupidly. Carl’s face was uglier than a bull dog in heat. He
blinked again, trying to recall just who Carl was.
“How
many fingers am I holding up, kid?” The brawny man’s face scrunched up in
fear.
Benny
drooled on the mat.
Scowling
in alarm, Carl drew back his hand and slapped Benny.
Then
crashed onto his buttocks.
An
outraged Benny shot up.
“How
many fingers am I holding up, Carl?” His fist closed tight, his middle finger
pointed at the ceiling. Teeth bared, he careened away. The cold eyes and bitter
hunch to Benny’s shoulders stopped the other students from laughing and making
remarks.
A
hand was shoved down at Carl.
Carl
glanced up at Bob’s grinning face and slowly took the hand. Bob yanked Carl up
and slapped him on the back, then returned to his evening class.
Carl
found Benny in the dingy bath room, washing the blood from his face. Glaring at
Carl, Benny tore loose a handful of coarse paper towels and held them to his
nose.
“Uh,
you doin’, kid?”
“You
hit me.” Benny tipped his head back and glared at Carl.
Carl’s
lips twitched. He fingered his lower lip and his left eye brow nudged upwards.
The lip was swelling rapidly. Benny got the point.
“You
were in lala land,” Carl said cryptically, studying his lip in the mirror.
“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t need to go to Municipal Hospital, is
all.”
“No,
I’m great. Fine, wonderful.” Benny glanced at Carl and snapped, “And
don’t ever, not ev-ver, take me to some fraggin hospital. They’re for sick
people. Just -”
Having
been through this before, Carl slapped himself on the forehead and groaned.
“Yeah,
yeah. I spent plenty of time in them too. So chill, will ya?”
Benny
tried to snort and wound up with a handful of bloody mucus. He grabbed more
towels and let Carl drag him back to the classroom.
Shoving
Benny in a chair, Carl grunted an irate, “Sit,” in a no-nonsense rumble when
Benny tried to rejoin the class.
Hunkering
down at Bob’s ancient desk, Carl smirked at Benny.
“Didn’t
hurtcha, did I?”
Benny
grunted scornfully. “I ain’t no elephant.” He smirked back at Carl.
“Even if you do look like a monkey, you yard ape.”
Carl
chuckled at that. He spread his hands in apology. Benny snorted, winced and
grinned.
©2002 StoriesByEmail.com
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