19
(Season
2 Episode 8)
The
Collision
Hank Tomec had not always been the
way he was.
For the better part of his
adolescence he had been a normal kid from a normal family with mostly happily
married parents and three older sisters who made it their business to irritate
him at every turn.
In the end, Hank was happy.
Then, the market tanked and, seemingly
overnight, there was a surge of inner city families moving to the now cheaper
suburban houses. It was at this point
that Hank found his talent.
Fighting.
This was a wonderful and terrible
realization for Hank. He had a natural
ability to kick ass, and although he was of average height, he worked out
plenty enough to build himself into a formidable opponent.
Very rarely did he lose a fight
and he found himself doing it a lot.
After high school he had less and
less chances to crush faces and this had begun to wear on him. Hank realized that in some small way, he
needed to, now. He had fought so much
that if he didn’t, he became cranky, moody and more unstable than normal.
So, when Tobias called it was a
dream come true. This however, was
different. This time Hank was doing this
for Sidney. Sidney was something
different. Hank found himself thinking
about her more and more. Now he found
himself worrying for her.
This was interesting to Hank.
He arrived at the second dealer’s
residence in an apartment complex. He
was happy to have a reason to stop thinking about the complicated stuff and get
back to basics.
Hank flicked the tin of chew twice
then pulled a wad from it and jammed it into the front of his lip.
****
Silas was sat on the couch and
smiled as he took another drag off the joint.
The second dealer, a man named
Harry Phelps, watched him with a raised eyebrow and more than a little
confusion. “So, you going to take this
guy out? The one who attacked Mike?”
Silas was a tall man, standing six-foot-five
and was toned like a swimmer, giving him a lanky feel to his look. His hair was blond and unkempt. His nose was swollen from having been
previously broken. If Owen Wilson was in the best shape of his
life he could play Silas in a movie.
Silas wore a Hawaiian button up
shirt, unbuttoned enough to show his very nice abs. He wore long surfer’s shorts and flip-flops. Around his neck and wrists wore a series of
crystals and hemp crafted charms.
With the exception of his size and
healed nose, he couldn’t have looked less like hired muscle.
“I hope not, man.” Silas said with a low drawling surfer’s
accent.
“Huh?” Harry inquired confused.
Silas smiled and took another hit.
“I mean, I would much rather resolve the
situation peacefully with a free and open exchange of ideas.”
“No offense, but you don’t seem
like…” Harry struggled to find the word.
“Like a bad ass?” Silas finished
his statement and Harry nodded. “Hey man,
if you listen, life will show you what you should be doing.”
“You’re saying the fucking circle
of life decided you should be a hired teeth breaker?” Harry said, more skeptical
than ever.
Silas shrugged again. “Crazy world, man.”
“Are you serious?” Harry asked, starting to get annoyed with the
mellow mood of his would-be protector.
Silas shrugged. “No man, I try to never be serious.”
It was at this point that the door
shattered inward with a firm and hard kick. The wood splinted as the latch gave away, the
door almost fell off of the hinges. Harry
screamed and jumped, falling backward over his chair. Silas just turned and frowned.
Hank stood in the doorway of the
small, three room apartment. In front of
him was a wrap around couch and coffee table, a chair with the scared dealer
behind it in a heap. To his left was the kitchen and the far right of the room
was the bedroom.
Hank raised his eyebrow and paused
at the strange surfer dude staring at him from the couch.
“Aww man, you didn’t have to do
that.” Silas whined. “The door was open.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Hank
asked.
Silas’ smile returned as he put
out the roach. “My name’s Silas, and I am
here to try to get you to change your mind through an open and honest exchange
of ideas.”
“Fucking hippie fairy, you got ten
seconds to get out.” Hank said,
disgusted with the pothead in front of him.
Silas frowned and stood. “You cowboy’s always are the hardest to
reach.”
Hank raised his eyebrow. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Anger man, deep seeded anger,”
Silas said with a deep concern. “I’m
talking about a lack of communication and a malfunction in the parts that make
peace, bra. I’m talking about a lack of
love in your life, man.”
Hank’s face was a picture of
confusion. He turned to Harry, searching
for answers from his would-be target. Harry just shrugged from his hiding spot and
shook his head.
“Look man,” Silas continued,
slowly closing in on Hank. “What you
need is emotional contact with another human being, so I’ll bite the bullet and
give you what you have been looking for.
Come here, bra.”
Silas outstretched his arms for a
hug and Hank was so flabbergasted by what Silas was attempting, he almost let
him do it.
Almost.
Hank gave a stern and forceful
right cross to the tall hippie’s right jaw, pulling the blow slightly out of
pity.
Hank would come to find out that this
was a mistake. He expected the man to
fall, and possibly weep, maybe to send him fleeing into the hallway. None of the above happened. Instead, the surfer staggered a couple of feet
and rubbed his jaw, shaking his head.
“I try, but as much as I love, I
guess some people just need to get hurt.” Silas said and the threat seemed
strange with his surfer accent.
Silas calmly stepped out of his flip-flops.
Hank shook his head. “Look, I don’t know what your deal is but-”
Silas cut off Hank’s sentence with
three lighting fast jabs to Hank’s face.
Two rights and a left. The rabbit
punches were lighting fast and all three struck within a half-second of each
other.
Just like that, Hank’s nose was
broken.
Silas stepped forward in the next
second and front kicked Hank to the gut, sending the confused hill-jack
staggering backward against the door frame to the kitchen. Hank’s mind reeled as it tried to compile data
as fast as it would be attacked. It
tried to make sense of what was happening as he gasped for breath and coughed
blood. Silas did not wait, taking two
steps and leaping into the air, driving both of his feet into Hanks chest with
such force he went backward and collided with the frame, breaking it. A dry wall cloud burst into the air was Hank
crashed to the tiled kitchen floor.
“Don’t worry, man,” Silas said as
he stood up straight and flexed, taking his time walking toward the downed
Hank. “People always make the same mistake
as you. They think because I’m mellow
and live very liberally that I can’t fight.”
Hank pulled himself to his hands
and knees as blood poured from his nose. Silas continued, “But you know the old saying,
bro? Talk softly, but carry a big
stick.”
Hank had to make a move of this
was over. He had to turn this around. He couldn’t fail now or he would let everyone
down. Tobias, his sister… Sidney.
Hank pulled himself up and turned
into a huge wild haymaker. Silas saw it
coming a mile away. He caught the blow
and turned the wrist, using Hank’s momentum to bring it up behind him.
Hank grunted in pain and Silas
pushed him forward into the wall, pinning him. “Calm down, big guy! I think if you let just a little love into
your heart, we could move forward as friends.”
Hank gritted his teeth and snapped
his head backward, his skull connecting with the bridge of Silas’s nose with a
wet thwack.
Silas cursed and released his grip,
staggering. Hank turned fast, seeing a
small window he knew he had to make it count. His heavy right hand collided with Silas’
temple. The blow was heavy and hit
flush. Hank’s power did not betray him, stunning
his attacker.
Hank stepped in, grabbed Silas
around the waist, lifting him and turning.
He sent Silas crashing back first through the kitchen table. Wood and debris went everywhere.
“Still want to make love?” Hank
taunted, kneeling over him with blood dripping from his chin.
Hank’s blow to Silas had cut him
open above is right eye and blood started to flow. Silas suddenly snapped to life, trapping Hank’s
arm and head between his legs in a triangle choke.
“Sadly, I think that time has
passed us by, bra.” Silas said through
exertion as he applied pressure, cutting off Hank’s circulation.
Hank had very little time and he
stood using all his power and strength to lift Silas off the ground. He turned and slammed him onto the counter,
but the pressure only tightened.
Hank was turning purple when his
eyes dropped on a frying pan that was sitting on the stove. He grabbed the pan with his free hand and
brought it around to whack Silas in the head.
Silas grunted and released the
grip he had around Hank’s throat. Hank
gasped for breath and took one step back before raising the pan above his head
and bringing it down to Silas’ fight knee with a sickening amount of force.
This time, Silas screamed.
“Wannbe pussy. I bet you voted for McCain!” Hank yelled and raised the pan again.
Silas used his good leg to kick
Hank in the face and send him backward into the refrigerator. “I don’t vote! I don’t support the capitalism!”
Silas rolled off the counter to
his good leg and snapped off tree move punches to Hank’s solar plexus. Hank gasped for air and Silas raised his left
to finish the cowboy.
Hank blocked with the frying pan, making
a loud clanking noise. Silas screamed
and grabbed his hand. Hank stepped in
and brought the pan like a base ball bat across his face. The pan sounded again and Silas spun on his
feet, crashing to the counter, his eyes beginning to roll backward in his head.
Hank took no chances.
Hank grabbed Silas and opened to
refrigerator. He shoved Silas’ head
inside the door then slammed the door as hard as he could.
Silas dropped to the ground,
motionless.
Hank began breathing hard. With blood pouring from his nose and mouth, he
gasped for air. He had never been so
close to losing.
He turned and saw Harry staring at
the destruction with a look of shock and disbelief.
Hank looked at the clock on the
wall. “You got thirty minutes to game
time, right?”
“Fair game, I got it.” Harry
scrambled to fold.
Hank nodded then limped across the
kitchen to the living room. He turned to
Harry quickly and Harry staggered backward falling over the chair. Hank then turned and walked out of the apartment.
He had almost been beaten. His nose was broken and bleeding, but for
some reason, he couldn’t stop smiling.
He spit some tobacco in the
hallway, not caring where he was.
Maybe he did have anger issues.
