DO NOT FUCKING HESITATE!!
‘Repeat after me’
‘DO NOT FUCKING HESITATE!! DO NOT FUCKING HESITATE!! DO NOT FUCKING HESITATE!! DO NOT FUCKING HESITATE!!’ they chanted along with him.
‘Fucking give em everything you've got’ he continued.
‘What if it isn't them H?’ someone had asked.
H thought for a moment; picturing two innocents come in from the countryside, more used to fucking sheep than women, to get a good peep at some real women and then….whack!
‘I've absolutely no idea’ he grinned ‘so just tell Toby’.
‘Thanks H’ said Toby ‘appreciate it’
.……………..Joey got on his mobile to Toby……
‘Ok, said Joey ‘no problem’
Joey went through the men's pockets and found two slim tubes. As he peered at the one a release mechanism let go of the compressed air piston and a needle like blade slid across his face and then retracted.
‘Fuckin hell’
If big Joey could have jumped a foot in the air he would have done but all he did was thank his lucky stars for the near miss. They put the other tube gently in a pocket then dragged the men and sat them against the wall as though drunk. A few minutes later a car stopped, the men were put inside and it drove off.
Toby erased twenty minutes of the security tape and put it in the faulty machine they used for such occasions.
H Chapter 16
English humour?
.…………..H joined the family again.
‘Trouble James?’ asked Benny a little concerned.
‘A smidge’
‘Is there anything we can do to help? Asked Senora Reyes.
Like a child H's imagination was prone to flights of fancy and he almost giggled as he tried to answer. ‘Can we help…..?’ He found it difficult to see these pillars of society helping him beat the shit out of someone for information. His imagination went ever wilder…..
‘Give him more coffee!’
‘Stick a plantain up his arse!’
‘Rub him with gravel!’
It was too much and his brain would not give up on the fantasy unfolding before him. He tried so hard not to laugh tears started welling in his eyes. Benny looked at him imploringly. H tried to speak but he couldn't. Waving a hand in the air in a gesture of apology he stumbled off upstairs to the bathroom where he cackled insanely. The strength left him and he leaned over the basin to catch his breath. After a few moments he felt better and started to straighten himself up when he thought of it again and collapsed into another fit of laughing. He could hardly breathe with the laughing and his stomach hurt. Regaining his composure he stood up; looking into the mirror he saw Benny behind him. She said nothing, just stood there glowering.
‘Benny, let me explain’
‘There is nothing’ Benny said sternly ‘you could say that would excuse this’
Five minutes later H and Benny were doubled up in the bathroom.
‘More caffeine! That'll make him talk….’ shrieked Benny and tears rolled down her eyes.
After a few minutes they went back down and Benny went into an exhaustive explanation, in Spanish, of what had happened. H could see from the gestures that Benny was trying to show the humour behind a ridiculous scenario and the Familia Reyes were struggling to see it. And then Senora Reyes eyes widened, she opened up her hands expressively, then chattered excitedly to Benny who nodded profusely. The Senora then launched into an animated conversation with her husband who also started to animate.
It all became a touch climactic then Benny said ‘They get it…..’
Over coffee that evening Senor Reyes asked H how he got into ‘clubs’.
H gave them the usual story of how he had worked himself up in a small club then had the opportunity to buy a little club cheaply and it had started from there.
Sort of…….
…………When H left school at fifteen with no qualifications he got the only job he could which was digging roads. It meant an early rise, travelling in a smoke filled, beer stinking van for an hour with men whose flatulence could stop a Triceratops at ten paces. But it was worth it. The job gave him many things he needed; he was free, in the open air and the physical exercise was exactly what his body and mind needed. He launched himself into the physical activity as though his life depended on it and his muscles became defined and hard while his skin bronzed in the hot sun. He had fifteen years of aggression to dispel.
After nearly eighteen months on the roads he got the opportunity to go to another project nearer home and there he met Arthur. H took an immediate liking to Arthur. Arthur was one of natures throw backs and in an earlier age would have been burned at the stake for being a servant of the devil. Arthur was about five foot two, hunched, pock marked from measles as a child, bow legged and with only two front teeth he looked like a beaver. Arthur had several distinct attributes that were good or bad dependent on how you saw him.
Arthur was a world authority on butterflies, although he had no way of judging, but Arthur had studied butterflies and devoured books on them since he was a child, had scrimped and saved and went all over the world to study them and there was nothing he did not know about them.
Arthur had a photographic memory.
Arthur played the horses and won.
Arthur had bad breath.
Arthur was happily married to a woman who adored him.
Arthur could not say a sentence without the word ‘fucking’ being in it.
Initially Arthur was reluctant to get too close to H. H was big and Arthur had been bullied a lot in his life by men who had taken the piss out of him but in due course he accepted H and they became good friends at work. They never socialised outside work but they discussed politics, gambling, women (which Arthur was also an expert on but had only ever had one) and sex - which Arthur was also an expert on and from whom H learned things that he thought would be most uncomfortable if not physically impossible. The odd thing was Arthur never discussed butterflies. He knew everything about them but he kept them to himself.
One day the gang had been moved urgently across town to another site to help get it back up to schedule as ‘penalties’ were about to kick in if it ran over. They had been there a week and were just having a break. It was H's turn to make the tea and he was brewing the large container over a small gas ring run by a propane cylinder. It was an unwritten rule that tea had to be just so…… There was no point in working your arse off, look forward to a bacon butty and then wash it down with a brew that tasted like shit and so whoever made the tea made it properly…or else. H was a few paces away and he heard unfamiliar voices. He turned round to see four men had arrived by his little bunch.
He turned back to the tea…….
The leader of the men, Clown, had spied Arthur and fancied a bit of fun.
‘What the fucks this then?’ he said to his mates as he pointed at Arthur ‘it's fuckin Quasimodo’.
Arthur had settled down to a cheese and pickle sandwich to complement his bacon butty and was about to read a butterfly magazine. Clown swaggered closer followed by three mates who wanted to watch the fun. They had seen him torment others and it was real ‘crack’.
‘Oy crater face’ he said as he stood over Arthur ‘I'm fucking talking to you. Fucking bells made you deaf?’
He turned to his mates for their adulation. ‘And what's this? Fucking butterflies you gay cunt’ He kicked the magazine out of Arthur's hands and it fluttered into the air. It was now too much for Arthur. He had spent his life being hounded by idiots but over the last few years he had been with friends and mates who took him for what he was. He stood up.
‘Look’ he said ‘I haven't done you any harm so why don't you leave me alone?’
Clown pushed him backwards and Arthur fell on his back.
‘Useless fucking spastic’ sneered clown.
H strolled over and stood in between Clown and Arthur. Clown looked at this teenager standing in front of him.
His age and young face disguising his size and frame.
‘Move’ said clown with menace.
H didn't move.
‘Piss off and go home to mommy’
H didn't piss off.
‘I'm fuckin warning you’
H took no heed. Clown turned his head and looked back at his mates. His mates had seen this ploy before. It was a feint. Just give it a second….. They waited for him to throw the sucker punch as he turned back. Clown bunched his fist out of sight of H then turned quickly. Half way round a granite like fist exploded into his face. His scream shattered the air and he folded instantly and dropped to the floor where he lay motionless and whimpering.
H turned to Clowns mates ‘You have a choice. You can either walk away and we can be ok or you can have this….’
He bent down, grabbed clown by his shirt, raised him up and with incredible force, smashed him in the mouth again. Blood spurted everywhere, teeth fell out of his mouth and he passed out with the pain. The men couldn't believe their eyes. They started to shake as they realised what could happen to them. They had watched clown torment people before but this was different. No one else had ever fought back; they had never realised that clown instinctively picked on people who wouldn't fight back.
It terrified them.
One started nodding in agreement although he wasn't quite sure what he was agreeing to. He merely knew that he would agree to anything at this moment. He looked down at clown whose face was swelling dramatically.
Oh fuck….fuck, fuck, fuck. Please not me. Please………not me. He wanted to run away but his brain and his legs were no longer connected.
One of the men had become so traumatised by the violence in front of him that he actually held out his hand to shake H's. He was also nodding. Subconsciously he had done what every animal does when in the presence of a more powerful male; he completely exposed his subservience to show he was no threat and should not be destroyed.
H looked at the man and then he looked over at the magazine that clown had kicked away. He looked back at the man who did not understand. Suddenly his mate scuttled away and retrieved the magazine which he offered to H. H didn't take it. The man started to panic. He was doing something wrong but he hadn't a clue what? His mate reached over, snatched the magazine and took it to Arthur.
‘Sorry mate’ he said ‘we were cunts. Sorry’
‘Get rid of him’ said H but the men were reluctant to move. They had shifted allegiance totally and had no wish to show disloyalty by helping a vanquished foe. H changed tack. ‘I want you to take him to a doctor’.
That was acceptable and they dragged him away; somehow holding him but not appearing to touch him.
Arthur looked at H and said ‘Fuckin thanks Jimmy’ and went back to his cheese and pickle sandwich and butterfly magazine.
After a moment he said ‘Oy Jimmy you fucking idle bastard, I thought you were making the fuckin tea……?’
H couldn't help but laugh….
Several days later H was sacked for ‘fighting on the job’ and he didn't quite know what to do next when he was sought out the day after by Arthur.
‘I fuckin owe you’ said Arthur.
‘You owe me nothing Arthur’
‘I fucking do and I'm going to start fuckin repaying fuckin now. Go to The Enclosure tomorrow and see Mr Harry Evans. Mr Evans needs a new fuckin assistant and you can do it. You're fuckin bright and it may be your fuckin start away from the roads. OK?’
‘Ok’ said H overcoming the urge to prefix it with ‘fuckin’
‘And one more fuckin thing, how much money have you got fuckin saved?’
‘You must be joking? Saved on what I earn?’
Arthur took an envelope out of his pocket and gave it to H.
‘Whatever it is’ said H ‘I don't want it’
‘Jimmy. Take it and if you fuckin ever and I mean fuckin ever, need help in the future, you come and talk to fuckin Arthur ok?’
H said nothing.
‘Don't forget’ said Arthur and walked away.
When he was out of sight H looked in the envelope at the notes. He counted five hundred pounds. Five hundred fucking pounds! It was a fortune! An absolute fortune! H didn't quite know what to do with it so he went to see a mate whose dad worked for the Pru. His dad said go to the Building Society and keep it safe and that's what he did. He was rich!
He also decided he would, now he had the time, join a club. He wasn't sure what kind but he wanted to learn how to fight ‘properly’. It was alright just laying somebody out by getting the first punch in but what would he do if they could handle themselves? What if they came back at him? Would his natural aggression be enough?
First to Mr Evans who agreed to take on James but James asked if it was ok to start later on in the year. Mr Evans wasn't entirely happy with that and said no but to come back the next day after he had thought about it. The next day he said yes.
In the next town H found a club that catered for all typed of physical activity; gymnastics, boxing, judo, aikido and karate and James embraced them all with enthusiasm. He was a natural at most of the disciplines as he had an innate sense of awareness of his opponents anticipated move.
Having spent all his young life anticipating the next hit or kick he had developed an unconscious reservoir of ‘tells’ to warn him to change his body angle slightly or lower his face slightly or pull his tummy in to minimise the damage and the pain that was about to be inflicted on his young body.
For six months James spent every waking moment at the club where he found a way to channel his aggression correctly and also experience a sense of team camaraderie which he had never experienced before.
At that point he decided it was time to earn a living and went to join Mr Evans…….
‘The Enclosure’ was a large bookies shop and James started at the bottom; sweeping up, making tea and running errands. Soon he was behind the counter where he was good with the punters, and then Mr Evans made him his assistant. Life was good; Jimmy had a good job, was picking up a steady couple of quid and was popular with the girls. One evening he had locked up ‘The Enclosure’, walked around the corner and there they were………waiting. H had forgotten about Clown but obviously Clown had not forgotten H.
James wasn't overly concerned but he knew he was not in a good situation. Where he stood was too open and they could get round his back which wouldn't be good. He needed a better place. If they wanted a fight it would at least be on James terms and not theirs. He knew where there was a wide alley that went nowhere. It was wide enough, between two buildings and it would stop them going around his back. It also gave him room to escape if necessary. He started running.
Clown grinned at his mates. This was what he wanted to see. The fucking coward was running away and they would have him. Clown had worked it all out. It had been festering in his mind for nearly a year and he had played this scenario over and over in his mind. He had heard the screams, felt the hot blood, heard the bones snap. Oh yes. Oh fucking yes…..The fucking cunt would get it now! Once he and his mates had overpowered him he would kick his teeth out! Just like that! No mercy. No holding back. Let him find out what it's like to have no teeth…
Clowns memory had played tricks on him over the intervening months. He knew that James punch had been a lucky one; that James was smaller than he remembered and that he could take him….easily.
James got to the entrance of the alley and appeared confused and lost. He ran down it fifty yards and came to the dead end. He turned and waited…….
They sauntered down, confident now not only of victory but of total annihilation. Clown could already smell James blood in the air and his prick was actually getting hard with the anticipation. James walked forwards three yards; he needed room to move. Quite confident clown walked ahead of his men and stopped several feet in front of James. He smiled through a toothless mouth. ‘Your turn now cunt…’
He swaggered up to James and pushed him on the chest with one han
d to force him back to the wall. James resisted and clown automatically put two hands on his chest to push him harder. The second his other hand touched his chest James put both his own hands over them, locked them to his chest and with one swift movement bent his chest forwards and dropped down. Both clown's hands were now going back against his arms and his wrists broke instantly. When he heard the breaking sounds James let him go, watched him fall and kicked him in the head.
Then James stood there……waiting.
It was up to them. They could go now or they could carry on. James worked on the assumption they would go. It wasn't their fight, why carry on? Unfortunately clowns mates were intellectual pigmies and that thought process was a little beyond them. The first one lunged with a punch at James who softly moved one foot back and to the side then let the punch sail past him. As it went he held the arm and helped it continue in the same direction until it hit the wall. The crunch of the broken bones was loud but the scream was louder. As he sagged to the floor James pulled back hard on his arm until he heard the snap then kicked him hard in the face.
He turned to face number three.
In the last ten seconds number three had gone from intellectual pigmy to a veritable Einstein…..a hundred thousand years of self preservation flooded into his brain and he turned and ran. James turned back to his assailants. Number two was out for the count but clown was still huddled, clasping his now useless hands to his chest and whimpering.
‘Have we met somewhere before…….? asked James.
More whimpering. James lashed out with his foot and caught clown in his midriff. His body arched upwards with the pain and he yelped.
‘I asked you a fucking question and I expect an answer’.
Clown said nothing but whimpered again. James kneeled and the piston like blow from his fist caught Clown on the side of the face.
‘I asked you a fucking question………?
‘You know we met before….’
The fist crashed into him again. He started crying…….
‘This isn't a fucking guessing game!’
H When Hell Is the Favourable Option...... Page 9
