CHAPTER ONE

It was just the way he liked it, no noise, save the pull ofhis lungs on the Kools, the smacking of his lips at thebitter taste of the tar. He bummed three loosies from

some guy off the street on the way over and enthusiasticallysmoked one before he made it to his quiet spot beneath the trafficunder the bridge. After the first, his peace of mind slowlyreturned infusing him with the vacation from reality he sorelysought and needed. He could have done without being harassedbut he knew that that was all part and parcel of the whole gamebeing played. He was king of the shake down and almostlaughed at them when it came his way. It was done abruptly butclumsily leaving him more annoyed than anything else. Hecould have smashed at least one of their heads in, the little onefor sure, and sent the other larger guy to the hospital with abusted lip or blackened eye but something told him to be coolabout it and remember what was at stake. He was high, whichwas a good thing. That entire scene could have gone downtotally different had he been sober. He shook from theadrenaline rush that it gave him. The thing was so surreal. Hefelt like he was an actor playing a part in a movie. He was goingto be the one left standing, ‘That’s for dang sure,’ he toldhimself. His enormously opposing mass alone made themsloppy with fear but unbeknownst to them, he was afraid too.Not because he couldn’t take them but because they were

panicking in an uncontrolled sort of way. That made them lesspredictable and left him on edge. He liked predictability. Hecounted on it. He had won many fights that way knowingexactly how things were going to turnout step by stepanticipating his opponent’s every move. He used people’scowardice to his full advantage. He could always take anysituation and make it prefer him no matter what it looked likefrom the start.

His eyes were shut for a moment as he mulled over the day’sevents. Nothing out of the ordinary occurred, other than thefumbling attempt at scaring him. ‘So what I owe them money,’he laughed to himself, ‘They’ll get it when I’m good and readyto give it.’ He didn’t even see nor hear anything coming.Normally, at this hour of the night his senses were as sharp as analley cat but he had committed the sin of mixing whiskeys withrums. When he looked out through the thick cloud of smoke infront of his face he saw something, or someone standing there.Their features were contorted, and shadowed by the cement andiron slabs of the bridge’s old underbelly. Their hands wereraised in shock and drool was coming out of their mouth. Hefollowed their eyes down to his person, below his shoulders,above his rib cage, sticking out from his chest was a thickwooden handle, attached to a blade, now forced through hisflesh. He hadn’t felt a thing. He didn’t know exactly what itmeant either at first until his drag on his cigarette arrested in histhroat and nearly choked him to death. It was agonizing. Hischest didn’t swell on the inhale. It just froze slag in midinhalation. The cigarette slipped from his hand. In slow motionit fell to the dirt. He watched it sailing down wantingdesperately to pick it back up for one last puff. It was his

favorite part where the tobacco had disappeared leaving a wetcushioned filter that burned the edges of his fingers. He tried butcouldn’t move. They both stood in silence for a long whilestaring at one another, both helpless, one for causing the injuryand the other for suffering from it. He swaggered back, just intime as the hideous faced assaulter was about to retrieve hisweapon from out of his heart. ‘Ain’t this a blimp,’ he thought,‘I’m the victim of some random, ass crime.’ He didn’t havemuch time to access the irony of his predicament. He had tothink fast. Like his cigarette, his sense of humor and his patiencewere gone. He wasn’t going to let that happen to his life.

About the Author

Beverly A. Burche/ placed second in the Billie Holiday-eatre Poetry Contest and thusly her love of writing wasspurred. She’s a graduate of the famed High School ofPerforming Arts, and has acted in a number of nationalcommercials as well as a few popular .lms, including“Fame”, and “Joey Breaker.” Her latest worksQueenKinni,Smart, Sexy, Spiritual, Strong, and Random Arts ofKindness, a journey, are available in stores and on-line atwww.blackcurrantpress.com. Beverly’s also a publishedlyrist, who resides in New York.