Skinned Toes and Pony Rides

Posted: June 1, 2012 in Uncategorized

Even with all the adrenaline in our bodies, we were too tired to do much more than jog in between the Bell Street Meat Market and Unbuttoned, but at least we did enough damage to give us a 60-second head start. Lyons ducked into dark corner near a delivery door that high school kids liked to smoke in – I remember we used to smoke there too, and we tried to catch our breath without giving ourselves away in case anyone was coming.

Lyons laughed and shook his head, wiping sweat from his brow with his right hand and staring at his other hand. It was bleeding. Probably more than a hand ought to, but then his knuckles did go through that bottle and onto Black Steve’s nose. He looked at his clothes, patting down his pockets and realizing he didn’t have any spare cloth to wrap it up in. He’d even made it out of the bar without any rips in his shirt, and it looked like he wasn’t about to ruin it just to stop some blood.

Then he sucked in a breath and slammed my head against the wall via my mouth. I felt my skull bounce off the brick and felt a little dizzy, but we both stayed as still as we could as Black Steve and his boys ran past us and down the alley in pursuit of us. We stayed still for another 15 seconds, then he let me go and we scurried up the chain link fence separating our end of the street from the rest of the Southside. Landing down with a laugh, Lyons took his bloody hand and clasped my shoulder, leaving an ichor stain on my clean white linen.

“Happy birthday, friend-o. Want a smoke?”

 

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