Draw Box by John L. Moen

Author:John L. Moen [Moen, John L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781524652623
Publisher: AuthorHouse
Published: 2016-12-05T05:00:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

KENT HATTERON

Stock sat with Kent Hatteron in the locker room that joined the fitness center. They had just finished a long workout, working the areas determined by the Gorman Fighting System that needed improvement. Stock was determined to learn Kent Hatteron’s character and worth as a partner beyond the training program.

“Kent Hatteron, that’s more of a white man’s name ain’t it? Are you sure your folks weren’t white?” Stock asked.

“Man!” Kent Hatteron exclaimed. “You trying to say my daddy was a cracker?” Jumping up off the bench, “He was a cracker alright, a bone cracker, a head cracker. My daddy was as black as coal and my mamma was pure ebony man.” Kent began shadow boxing. “My pops was three times golden gloves champ.”

“I’m just saying maybe…” As Stock started again, Kent Hatteron cut him off mid-sentence.

“Man don’t make me get all upside your head now”.

Stock began to laugh as he watched Hatteron shadow boxing more fiercely now, throwing bigger punches and moving around the fitness center.

“Man I will hit you so hard I’ll knock the taste out your mouth. You call my daddy a cracker, I’ll put you back in diapers man.”

Stock was laughing hard now, he raised his hand waving for Kent to stop. Hatteron riddled on the speed and heavy punching bag for a moment and then started slowing down moving and dancing around, throwing lighter punches as he made his way back to sit down beside Stock.

“Where did you come up with that crazy shit from?” asked Stock.

“Man that’s the way we talked back in the hood man, we had our own lingo. We hated white people and the way they talk man all proper and shit. We hated just about anyone that wasn’t black,” Kent said. “I joined a gang when I was a kid called the South Side Lords. We dominated everything. There wasn’t nothin moved on the south side that we didn’t have a piece of.”

“When I was young all I wanted was to be tough and mean enough to be one of the rulers of that gang that’s all I wanted man. My pops was always tellin’ me bein’ mean don’t make you tough and bein’ tough don’t make you mean boy, man, I never listened.”

There was silence for a moment and Stock turned and looked at Hatteron, tears were streaming from his eyes and dropping from his cheeks. His head bent slightly down, he was staring at his upturned palms, massive calluses mixed with scars showed across the lighter colored palms and fingers. Hatteron didn’t move to wipe the tears away as he clinched and opened his fists.

“You know man I never did anything good in my whole life.” Hatteron said.

“You probably did man you just can’t remember that long ago. Old age do that to you, you know,” Stock said trying to lighten Kent’s thoughts with a joke, Hatteron being ten years older than Stock.

“Listen man, I’m going to tell you some shit and if it’s too heavy for you I understand.

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