by Nat Kozinn
“I think that’ll do it for today. I might sit on this one for a bit. Time the release just right. I don’t think it fits with the narrative right this instant,” Alexis said and stood up from her chair. She took a few steps to the door.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mess up your work.”
“No, it’s fine. It might be a good thing really. When I do these running interviews, it’s not a bad idea to get a little ahead, have one in the offing in case there’s a problem some week. So we’ll still do our normal scheduled one, okay? See you Friday?” she said and shuffled a few steps closer to the door.
“Oh yeah. That’s good news, I guess. To be honest, I could probably still use some more cash,” David said. He walked out the door, rushing to make it to the Cash Connect before it closed.
9
“Yo, watch where you swing that. Some of that glass almost got me in the eye,” a young man said.
The young man was a shadow moving around a dimly lit storefront. He was not alone. His silhouette was accompanied by three others. They were yelling, laughing, and smashing the store to bits.
“How ’bout you watch where you standing? I’m doing something over here and I can’t be looking out for your punk ass,” another voice said.
And with that, the shadow swung a baseball bat and more glass shattered.
“Think I can push this shelf over?” another voice said.
“No, man, you weak.”
One of the shadows lowered his shoulder and charged into a set of shelves. He crashed into the shelves hard, knocking them over but following the shelves down to the ground. He landed with a thud and one of the shelves full of food emptied onto him. All the boys broke out in laughter.
“I knocked it over,” the human wrecking ball said in an ineffective attempt to save face.
“You busted your ass,” one of the boys said and broke out laughing some more.
“Alright, that’s enough of that. Get out here right now!” David yelled from outside the store. His voice boomed off the buildings around them.
“Who the hell said that?” a voice inside the store yelled.
“It came from outside, man.”
“Yo, who’s out there yelling? Get your ass outta here before something bad happens to you!”
“No! You get your asses outside right now or so help me God I will come in there and drag each and every one of you out of there by your underwear. I don’t care if I rip ’em in half on the way out!” David yelled.
“It’s that huge old bastard. Captain Seattle or whatever. Is he really strong enough to do that?” a young man said. His voice quivered.
“I had enough of this guy’s crap. Let’s go talk to him and show him what’s up,” a voice said. David recognized it. What was his name? Big H?
The boys headed out of the store, doing some opportunistic smashing on their way out. The gang emerged, Big H and three other punks David might have seen around the Heights, but who could tell? Two of them were very large and looked like brothers.
“What you yelling about, old man?” Big H said.
“Is that it? Is that all of you?” David demanded.
“Yeah, that’s all of us. More than enough to shut your worthless mouth.”
“Mario isn’t with you?” David asked and held his breath while he waited for an answer.
“Nah, that little bitch don’t want to come out anymore ever since he started hanging out with you. We’re going to have to teach his punk ass a lesson one of these days. Running with the Clowns ain’t something you can walk away from. Not for free anyway,” Big H said.
“Looks like he’s missing a prime opportunity to do whatever the hell you’re doing here. What are you doing here?”
“We’re teaching somebody else a lesson tonight. That old ching-chong piece of crap that owns this place, he disrespected us. Now we try to be reasonable and get along with the neighborhood, but we can’t be letting some old bitch mouth off to us and get away with it. No, we can’t have that. Once he sees what we did to his store, he’ll know to show respect, and so will everybody that hears about it.”
“Okay, so what did Mr. Chang do to disrespect you?” David said.
“Yo, his name is really Chang Chong!” one of the boys yelled. A boy for sure.
“We were just standing out on the street clowning on each other and some of the people walking by. You know how we do. We weren’t hurting anybody. Not really anyway. Then all of a sudden Mr. Chang comes up outta nowhere. Tells us we gotta move off the street like we some dog that been sniffing around his deliveries or something like that. Dude’s lucky I didn’t break his ass in half right there, but it was daytime. You know, kids and shit. But that don’t mean we can let that disrespect go,” Big H said, puffing his chest to look more like a fully grown man, though he couldn’t have been more than nineteen.
“If I’m understanding you, which isn’t easy, you’re saying that you were out here harassing people walking down the street, people who were probably coming to shop at Mr. Chang’s store. Mr. Chang desperately needs those customers, because he’s barely getting by, just like everybody else out here. So because he has a family, and bills to pay, and responsibilities, he mustered up the courage to come out here and confront you, even though he is just one skinny middle-aged man, and you’re a whole gang of empty-headed but kind of big lugs. Your response to this act of bravery is not to confront the man directly, but rather wait till the dead of night to sneak out here, where you can extract your petty revenge while Mr. Chang sleeps because, you know, he’s got a family, and a job, and responsibilities—reasons to wake up in the morning. And you think you’re the one who’s a tough guy? You think you’re the one who is being a man? Unbelievable,” David said and shook his head.
“Whatever, we proved our point. We don’t need to be here no more. Going to be on our way, lucky for you,” Big H said and pointed down the street, a signal to his compatriots.
The four punks spread to walk around David, but he took a large step directly into Big H’s path. He stomped his foot; the boom rang off the buildings and knocked a few shards of glass loose from the remnants of the storefront window.
“You aren’t getting off the easy. Remember the part where I told you that Mr. Chang has a family and he’s barely scraping by? That means he’s going to be crippled by all the damage you did to his store. Now, I’m guessing that between the four of you, you’ve got at least a couple hundred dollars. You don’t seem like the types to keep your money in a think.Net account. That won’t quite cover the damage, but it’s a nice start. Mr. Chang will still be sad or scared or whatever it is you want, so really, it’s a win-win. Well, not really, but it’s something,” David said.
“Are you kidding me right now? You got to be kidding me right now. Are you really trying to shake us down, right here, on our own street corner? You got to be kidding me,” the young punk said and marched in a small circle.
“Well, you said it three times, so I bet you already know that I’m not kidding. Come on, boys. You got caught. Time to pay the price,” David said, rubbing his fingers together in the universal sign of wanting money.
“Yo, how much you got on you?” one of the larger punks said to his quasi-twin punk brother. He said it under his breath, but not as quietly as he thought.
“That ain’t necessary,” Big H said to his large friends. “Old man here is all talk. It’s against the law for him to do anything to us. Otherwise, we’d have freaks running around all over the place thinking they some sorta heroes. I talked to my cousin in the 49ers, and he told me that this bitch right here probably already broke the law by not just walking away as soon as he saw us screwing around. Differents have to walk unless we’re doing it to them, and even then, only if we going to kill ’em.”
“While I have no doubt that your cousin is quite the legal scholar, he still overlooked a key fact. I was grandfathered into the Different Acts as a thank-you for my service to the nation. Now, that was done more so I cou
ld work for the Metro Areas without having to be an Ultracorps employee and less so I could beat up punks, but the law is the law.”
“What’s he saying?” one of the lugs said.
“He’s saying he don’t have to follow the law,” Big H said.
“Ding ding. So why don’t you boys do what I said, and then we can all go home, get a good night sleep, and nobody has to get hurt. Mr. Chang will have some hard weeks, but he’ll survive. And he won’t say anything to you ever again. I think that’s pretty clear. And maybe you boys learn a lesson that doing things like this has consequences and just because you’re young and angry it doesn’t mean you get to lash out at the world,” David said.
“Or what?” Big H said and took a step forward toward David. He tried his best to deliver an intimidating stare, but that was difficult since he was gazing up at a two-foot height difference.
“Now you’re the one who’s kidding me, kid. You feeling alright there, sport? I think you must have a fever or something,” David said with a wide grin.
“Big H, what you doing? You crazy. My mom said this guy, like, moved mountains and crap like that,” one of the big ones said.
“Yeah, man, he used to be able to do stuff like that, but that was a long time ago. My cousin also told me this punk been getting weaker for a long time. You think if dude could go around moving mountains he’d be living in the Heights?” Big H said.
“Your friend is right. I did used to move mountains. Well, technically, I redirected a river, which involved moving a mountain’s worth of land around, so close enough. I am weaker now, too. You’re right about that, too. But you got to ask yourselves, how much weaker than moving mountains can I be and still be strong enough to toss you four punks around like rag dolls? Do you want to find out, or do you want to pay up and take off? I’m fine with either choice, considering what I’m pretty sure you did to the church,” David said and stood up a few inches taller.
“Maybe that’s how it is. Or maybe I ain’t the only one out here pumping my chest. You know what I think? I think it’s been years since you mixed it up with anybody and you don’t know if you still all that bad. I think you acting so tough because you the one who’s scared. All I know is, out here on the street, if you really got it, then you show it,” Big H said.
Then the punk reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded piece of metal. He hit a switch that extended a six-inch metal blade. It was no workman’s knife. He held it out, not quite pointing it directly at David, but not quite away either.
David rubbed his face with his left hand and exhaled a large sigh. His right hand shot out like it came from a cannon. He snatched the blade out of Big H’s hand like a school teacher who spotted contraband. He held the blade out for everyone to see.
“You want me to show it, huh?” David said.
He held the blade up with his right hand and then smashed down on it like he was squashing a bug. The blade shattered into a dozen pieces. Big H and his punk friends cowered and covered their faces to protect themselves from the shards.
“Now pay up and go!” David said and tossed aside the handle from the now broken blade.
The boys stared slack-jawed and wide-eyed. No one would have an easy time formulating a response to such a spectacle, let alone young men who just threatened violence against the performer of that feat.
“Earth to the former tough guys,” David said and snapped his fingers in one the loudest snaps in the history of the world. “Pay up.”
The “tough guys” all looked toward each other while simultaneously looking at the ground. Still without speaking or making eye contact, a consensus was reached, and all four of the young men started rifling through their pockets and pulling out whatever money they had. The boys lined up, remembering some long-forgotten training from the few years of school they all attended. One by one, they approached, handed over their cash, and waited for judgment.
One of the big ones tried to hand David a wad of change, but David pulled his hand away. “Come on, man. Bills only.”
Big H went last, and then all four punks stood off to the side, looking at what must have been some fascinating pavement. David counted the money. It took a while because there were a whole lot of one-dollar bills.
“Fifty-seven dollars? Fifty-seven? Is that really all you’ve got?” David asked.
The boys didn’t answer verbally, but the shuffling feet and lack of eye contact provided David with the answer he needed.
“Jesus Christ,” David said and shook his head. “It’s quite the criminal syndicate you guys are running out here, huh? This is when you’re supposed to learn the lesson that crime doesn’t pay. And apparently, even when it does, it doesn’t pay very well. Now go pound the pavement, and I’ll stay here trying to remember to turn the other cheek out of respect for the church, rather than spanking yours.”
The gang shuffled away in a row, their eyes still down and their mouths uttering threats they made sure to keep at an inaudible volume.
David watched the Hood Clowns until they turned a corner a few blocks down. After they were out of sight, he looked down at his left hand, squinting to get a good look in the faint light on the street. Something very strange had occurred when David smashed that knife: the blade cut him. When he looked closely, he saw a tiny divot in his hand. That was not supposed to happen.
◆◆◆
David struggled to move through the dense fog of human bodies huddled in front of the stage. Everyone tried to get out of the way; he was still big enough to force that response. It was not respect anyone lacked, but rather any room to move, too. Guts can only be sucked in so far, especially when everyone was too busy yelling, “It’s really him!” and “Hey, Savior, over here!”
The crowd had a distinctly different feel from David’s normal audience from just a few months back. There were young adults and even teenagers mixed throughout the crowd. The excitement was palpable. David made his way to the stage at the front of the throng. There was a man in his mid-fifties waiting for him next to the stairs leading up the center stage. The man was in incredible shape, with muscles bulging out of his tank top.
“Jesus, Eddy, is it legal to have this many people here?” David asked, yelling to be heard over the din.
“I don’t know, but whatever the fine is, I’ll pay it. They started showing up at six o’clock this morning. Can you believe it?” Eddy said, his mouth sporting a bigger grin than should be possible.
“No, I can’t,” David said and looked back at the crowd. “What the hell am I supposed to say to all these people? It’s supposed to be an ad for a gym for Christ’s sakes, not the Gettysburg address.”
“You can go up and break dance for all I care. I’ve already had to send a kid out to make copies of the sign-up form twice. I’m doubling your rate and I don’t want to argue about it.”
“You don’t have to do that, Eddy. Really, it’s not necessary.”
“What did I tell you? I don’t want to hear it. This ain’t about you. It’s for me. I need you to still be doing this in three months and I want to make sure you remember me with all the other people trying to hire you. Your value just went way up. Hell, I might want to do it again next week. Now get up there and talk to your fans.”
That was not what David needed to hear. He gulped down a mouthful of air out of instinct and walked up on the stage. He turned to face the crowd; it seemed even bigger than when he walked through it.
“Uh, it’s nice to see so many faces out there. I guess this means the bikes are going to be crowded tomorrow. Better get in early,” David said. He waited a beat for laughter, which eventually came on the basis of sympathy. “No, no, you don’t have to worry; Muscle Time Fitness has more machines than you can ask for. You know, if I’m honest, I’ve always felt a little weird coming here to talk to you guys. I mean, on the one hand, I get it; gyms are where you go to get stronger, and what’s a better symbol of strength than me? But the truth is, my strength isn’t anything like what
you get in a gym. I got all my strength like that,” he said and snapped his finger. “In the blink of an eye. At the gym, you have to pour blood, sweat, and tears into your workout and you have to do that for months, and even then, you probably won’t get all the results you wanted,” David said. Then he locked eyes with Eddy, who had his arms out and mouthed, “What the hell?”
“Which is why I admire people who go the gym so very much. Their willingness to commit and dedicate themselves shows the true strength of character they possess. It is not easy, but it is worth it,” David said, pumping his fist for emphasis.
“Lift something!” somebody yelled from the crowd.
“You guys are supposed to be the ones lifting. Go ahead and fill out a sign-up sheet and you’ll be able to lift, almost, as much as me in no time,” David said and pointed to the crowd. His shtick wasn’t going over very well.
“Come on. Lift up the stage!”
“Smash a hole in that wall!”
“Do something! This sucks!”
David was not prepared for this. All the years past, this event had only involved shaking hands and signing an autograph or two. The older folks didn’t expect much. These young people, though, expected him to put on a show. Eddy had not prepared for this request either, but he was ready to adapt. He called four of his employees over and instructed them to go inside and load up the dolly with a barbell and as much weight as they could carry. Then he ran out on stage in front of David.
“Ladies and gentleman, please. If you’ll just bear with us a few moments, we will get some equipment out on the stage, and then the Savior of Seattle will show us all what he can do! What do you say?!” Eddy yelled to the crowd, which roared in response.
David was shaking his head through the entire comment. Once Eddy was done, David leaned down and spoke in the gym owner’s ear.
