Wrong Number by Harold C. Jones

Author:Harold C. Jones [Jones, Harold C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

***

Back in their own end of town, they found a little corner pub where the food was good, plentiful and cheap. Dylan had sort of hinted that while Caleb was obviously doing all right, he wasn’t exactly rich.

The movie was all but forgotten in the excitement of the last few minutes. That seemed kind of a shame, but life, as people said, was an adventure when it wasn’t as boring as all shit.

They stared at each other across the table.

Caleb spoke first.

“Wow.”

“What.”

Caleb stared some more.

“Nothing. Just wow.”

He took a breath and it seemed he was about to go on, then thinking better of it.

“Where did you learn to fight like that, anyway?” Was there just a hint of condemnation in there?

There was no real good answer for that anyways. It’s not like Dylan had ever taken lessons.

People had taught him, usually the hard way, but then people taught you many things, and it often was the hard way. He had survived and that was the simple answer.

“Next time some guy grabs your tie like that, or your shirt, or your hair, you’ve got a couple of options. You’ve got to immobilize that hand. You can spin to the left or right, and try and break that hold. You could very easily strangle yourself, which is why that’s such a dangerous thing. You can rake his shin with the side of your shoe. You can grab the knot of your own tie with the left hand, otherwise he’s going to strangle you in about thirty seconds. You can poke or rake his eyes with the right. Whichever hand is stronger.” He thought for a moment. “Going for the nuts is the obvious move, right? But the heel of your hand right in the guy’s throat, as hard as you possibly do it is good too—don’t give him the straight-fingered chop or punch, or you’ll kill him for sure.”

He took a breath.

“You don’t want to do that—you just want to get away, right?” He nodded. “Basically, you just want to get the fuckers off you. He’s already assaulted you, and you have every right to defend yourself.”

“Do you think we should call the police?”

“Why bother? I mean, what’s the point?” It would be nothing but a pain in the ass, and in the end, the cops probably wouldn’t find them anyway. “I doubt if we could even properly describe them.”

Everything always happened so fast.

Caleb stared across the table, face pale in the reflected neon lights of the window beside their red plastic and vinyl booth. Finally he nodded.

“Okay.”

The waitress arrived with the food and they could maybe talk about something else for a while.

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