THE SISSY FIGHT - Churn Bk II

By J. Austin Gentry

The Sissy Fight - Churn Bk II is the second novel by J. Austin Gentry. This story explores the missions of our heroes Bill Towerse, Lisa Cacuzzo and Miko Nguyen, also introducing Maria Putnam (Sissy) and Lisa's grown son, Lorenzo Cacuzzo. Our heroes learn the true intent of the enemy, consecrating the mercy of a monstro

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. Austin Gentry
• Release date: Mar 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9780578933818

Book preview

Chapter I

The Heat

The university campus was chaotic. First and second year students were fishing around, darting from one class to another, and older students processed their time with a calmer collection. They smoked their cigarettes and laughed at their impressions of some comedy cable show from the night before. On this particular morning, the sun was blazing, and the afternoon would spike a ninety-eight-degree mark on the white concrete walkways that lie between the numerous second story buildings of the University. It was on this day, a transfer student from Connecticut and a native Texan would meet for the first time. A meeting, that was ordained centuries ago.

Yes Mamma... yes, I have what you sent me. No it’s fine, I’m very happy with it. Well, the days here are very warm, but the nights can get cold in the winter… because Momma this is Texas. Okay, listen Momma I must go... yes… okay, bye Momma. Bye, yes I love you too... bye. He giggled once he had ended his call and put away his phone. The days were bright and hot for him, but he didn’t mind the work. He felt lucky to have it… and more fortunate to be able to attend the college and work towards his undergrad. He was determined and focused.

His hearing sharpened the very second he heard her voice that day. She seemed inviting and friendly. It eased his mind of guilt and worry from being so far from his mother, as well as the other man in his mother’s life, Bill.

Heh-ha was that your mom? she asked without first introducing herself, not to be rude or intrusive, but definitely worth investigating. It dawned on him, not at first but within a few seconds that maybe she actually understood his native Italian language. A dialect, she had just overheard of him talking to his mother.

Yeah... as a matter of fact that was. She likes to check-in on me after she sends off a care package. I think it’s all a front, a reason to call and talk to me. You know how moms can get... Lorenzo trailed off, forgetting he didn’t exactly know the girl personally. He thought she was rather pretty with her curly black hair, tight shirt, and brown sunglasses. She was leaning against a giant palm cement planter, three feet from him where they both stood in the large north cemented courtyard of the campus.

So, do you speak Italian? he asked smiling.

Well not so much... I took an elective last year; but I know what you mean with moms. My mom made three surprise visits to my dorm last year... definitely not a good thing if you’re dating someone, she said, inviting the next question she seemed to know was coming.

So, what’s your name? he asked, trying to seem aloof, calm. He was nervous underneath the exterior; after-all, she was beautiful.

Oh no-you don’t…you tell me yours first, she quipped back to him, flirting.

Oh, you want to know my name. Heh, my name is Lorenzo, he said with confidence as he held out his hand, smiling even harder than before.

Alright there Mr. Lorenzo, my name’s Maria, she replied, not meeting his hand.

Wow that’s a pretty name, he complimented, dropping his boyish grin as well as his extended hand. He wasn’t quite sure exactly why she didn’t reach out to meet his greeting.

Yeah well, I don’t use it to much, she bounced back to him in a Texas drawl.

Really…why is that? he asked.

Well... my friends call me Sissy, she replied upbeat.

Lorenzo’s‘ back stiffened. He took a step back, stood still and stared at this innocent young woman, looking puzzled. The silence was long and started to make her feel uncomfortable. She turned her head slightly to him as if trying to listen deeply. The casual observer would have to pay extreme attention to notice it. Sissy had her skill set and this was one of them.

Lorenzo? she asked, trying desperately to hear him, for she was completely blind. I’m sorry, what… what did you say your name was? he asked with a tremble in his voice.

My name is Sissy, well my birth name was Maria, but my…

That’s what I thought you said, he interrupted her abruptly. Sissy took a step back and frowned; she dropped her head and pushed her hair behind her ear. She had been down this road before with dozens of people, and she was very prepared for battle.

So, let me ask you something LORENZO, what kinda of fuckin’ name is Lorenzo anyway? I mean do you usually shine people on and then go about pissin’ em off? she asked defiantly, with her chin in the air. Her hair would flash brunette and black sheen at him every time that Texas breeze would push up on her catching highlights.

It’s the name my Momma gave me… Lisa Cacuzzo. Let me ask you something Sissy, does that name mean anything to you…Lisa Cacuzzo? he asked.

No… why, should it?

No, of course not, he replied dryly. Lorenzo looked at her and knitted his eyebrows, Sissy, we just met and a… well, I’ll see you around here, right? he asked trying to keep his contact at arms-length. Something he could use to approach her at a later time, maybe a more convenient time. Maybe, after he had a chance to talk to his mother or maybe after some carefully

placed phone calls to his mom’s trusted confidant, Bill. Lorenzo had to be incredibly careful these days, reaching out to Bill.

What… you wanna be nice to me now? she asked, shifting her weight to her right hip, hands in her back pockets.

Well yes, I’m sorry… listen…I have some time tomorrow morning if you want to have some coffee or something, do you drink coffee? he asked.

Yeah, I drink tea… not coffee… but we can meet tomorrow morn’n, if you want, she replied, nonchalantly. The ‘Cup’ is open at eight-thirty, but we don’t have to meet that early, good Lord... how bout ten? she asked with a glint of hope in her tone.

Cool, he confirmed and put his hand up for a close wave, turned around and walked away. Shit, he thought, unsure if he had just waved to someone who couldn’t see him. Sissy turned her head to listen for his soft departure, she reached down to her ankles and picked up her backpack, it jingled with trinkets of collection she found in her travels and affixed to her pack.

She found it essential many years prior, as far back as grade school, to be able to identify her backpack. It should always have a distinctive sound if she or anyone else tried to pick it up and walk away with it. Lorenzo would never understand fully, but she did see him wave. She heard him slip his hand into his front jean pocket at the beginning of their conversation. She heard him slip it out and listened to his skin as the hairs on the back of his hand stood up to receive the sunshine. Sissy heard the deflecting of the wind as his hand cut the air to make a waving gesture. She heard him run his hand through his hair and then be shoved down in his front pocket seconds after. Sissy heard him sigh after walking several steps away from her and she almost thought she heard the clanking of his dorm- keys after he had gripped them several yards from her. The soap he used was an overly abundant spring scent, very common of the convenient store products sold down the street of the dorms, just about every other guy smelled like that on campus. Yes, Sissy saw him. She could see closer than anyone with regular 20/20 and a pair of binoculars.

Her dorm room was hers and hers alone with its beige concrete walls and white ceilings. Many mornings she could feel the sun light on her face from the single window the room supplied. At the university, it was said in her freshman year that anyone who would room with Sissy had a friend for life, until that life came to a quick end. That was the rumor, the older students made friends with her quickly, the younger students whispered behind her back, and she heard absolutely everything. Sissy could hear someone talking about their date from the previous night as far as fifty yards from her on a windy Texas day. She could smell the sex on someone any given Saturday morning, walking down the hall to her mailbox. Trudy, an older student had giggled at her one winter morning in passing her on the stairs to her room. Sissy stopped and looked straight at her, in absolute disgust.

What…? Trudy asked aloud as she came to a dead stop on the stairs by Sissy’s expression, What the hell are you looking at, little blind girl… huh? she teased demanding respect.

Did you at least wash your face after he came all over the top of your head? That’s just plain grr-oss! Sissy exclaimed and continued her descent down the stairs.

Trudy was mortified. How in the hell could that little blind freshman know what had happened to me the night before? Trudy burped up some beer from a party she had passed out in, six hours prior and immediately groped her hand up to find the hard dried portions of her hair, Oh my God! she yelped repeatedly all way up the stairs and into her dorm room.

Sissy enjoyed school; she enjoyed anything to do with the rewards it brought. She often thought if things had been different, would she truly be appreciative of what her life was now? The normality of it all, the hope it brought her was immense. There was a time in her early adolescence when she was unsure how far she could go, succeed, or if she would survive.

Sissy was eleven when her dad passed away from a scuff on the highway with an enraged hockey father, who was on his way home from a defeat at the rink. He lasted ten minutes in a brawl with some hothead who cut him off at the on-ramp. Her father didn’t count on the pistol the guy kept in his glove box. She was thirteen when she learned of heartache after Jake Watley’s rejection on the corner of her street. She was fifteen when she learned of jealously from her mother,

who was in shock to find Sissy in bed riding her mother’s young boyfriend. It was two days before her seventeenth birthday when they came for her again.

Bo Haggart had seen his share of adolescent crap in his nineteen years of working through the various positions for the Chicapee Board of Education. He was the janitor, and every high school kid knew his face, but no one actually knew him with the exception of one. There were stoners, computer geeks, heavy gang bangers, as well as the normal kids with their normal problems. Sissy had seen her share of after-school detention, but she didn’t mind it so much… it gave her time to think. She didn’t think of herself as a bad student, she was just bored. The schoolwork itself was not a challenge for her on most days… other days, it was something to do. The high school campus was set back on seven acres of property that laid out five steel and concrete buildings built twenty years prior. There were dense trees on three sides of the campus with one loop in and one loop out of the front of the main office building.

Hey Sissy, where ya going? asked Haggart, in passing on his way to his car. Sissy ignored him on her way back to her locker; she had forgotten her notebook halfway down the walkway to the parking loop. Her home was two miles from school, and she walked it every school day as her mom held down two jobs at that time.

I said… where-you goin’ Miss Putnam! he commanded. She stopped several feet from the building and corridor that housed her locker.

Oh-chil-lax, Haggy… I’m just going to get my notebook… what’s the prob? Sissy reached into her purse and pulled out a cigarette. She took a minute to dig down into her blue jeans for her lighter. She didn’t worry too much about Haggart; he knew how to keep his mouth shut. She hated having to put up a front for all those teachers during the school day.

Don’t test my patience, Sissy; I want you to put that cigarette back in your purse and get the hell home… The building’s locked up anyway, he yelled over to her, irritated at how brash she was.

Awe shit! I need that damn notebook! It’s in braille dude, she yelled back at him. She stood there with her arms crossed tapping her foot like a spoiled child. Although she wasn’t spoiled, she was broke, but no one would ever know it. Her income from her weekend job, cleaning office buildings, went toward the rent she shared with her mother. Her older brother moved out two years prior. He was serving his proud country in Iraq. Sissy worried about him almost every day, so much so it hurt. Her pain more often now had turned to anger, and she pulled no punches if she wanted to let someone know about that rage, if the opportunity ever presented itself.

Bo Haggart had enough… he started walking slowly toward her, rolling up his unbuttoned sleeves. I’m not going to tell you again; you’re done for the day here. Get on home-now, he spoke in his rehearsed, serious tone. Just as soon as Haggart positioned himself five feet from where Sissy was standing, a slate grey sedan pulled slowly into the high school parking lot.

Haggy, do you know these guys? asked Sissy as she heard the car drive up the distant school driveway that poured into the lot. Haggart turned around and stared at the long sedan.

Sissy listened to the tires as they rubbed against the Texas sand and asphalt. Bo Haggart thought it much too nice of vehicle to belong to any of the students that attended.

Maybe their lost… You need to go home! he called over his shoulder walking away from her toward the car. Sissy had known whom they were before the day begun. She was pulled to that location on campus and didn’t realize it until she had been actually standing there, arguing with the janitor.

Haggy, don’t go over there. Hey, don’t talk to those people Haggart! she yelled out to him. Haggart had made his way within fifty feet from the Sedan, he turned and waved Sissy away, and realizing after he did it… that she was completely blind. He shook his head in frustration.

Awe shit! Why doesn’t anyone want to listen to me? she said aloud. Sissy started walking after Haggart, who was now approaching the long sedan with black tinted windows. Haggart stopped and watched the back window buzz down. He turned quickly realizing that Sissy was ranting aloud a few yards behind him.

Sissy, calm down! Just be calm…, he commanded from his position in the parking lot. Haggart turned back toward the dark slated sedan; he was quickened to the black top as bone and blood burst from his left knee. Aauuww! Haggart

screamed from the dead grass and sand as he tried to crawl in the direction of the school. He was yelling for Sissy to run… to go back. Another quick explosion of blood and bone from the back of his right knee, Whoa... Sissy get out of here! he screamed at her. She squatted with her hands over her ears. Tears begun to glisten down her face. It was then he believed the pain would rear up his entire soul. It was then that without notice, he instinctively reached out to Sissy. His eyes read suffering and worry as he looked upon her pink shiny face, weeping. Another shot from a silencer had created a clean dime size hole through his forehead. She felt a small droplet of blood spatter slightly above her left eyebrow. She could smell it. Sissy screamed as loud as she could on the isolated high school property.

Instantly, two men in black fatigues and vests exited the sedan, one was speaking into his earpiece; the other was making a beeline for Sissy but not before she quickly found Haggart’s warm body. She kept padding him, feeling for a bullet whole, crying aloud.

You people are so dead, so finished! she screamed, God damn it-all! Haggy, get up…just get up, she sobbed.

Miss Putnam, you will be coming with us…right now, the man commanded.

The hell I will! You piece of shit! she screamed, crying. The mercenary took her by the arm and violently yanked her up and away from the janitor’s body. Sissy launched a right kick and

caught the mercenary square in the jaw, knocking him down on his back.

Acquire that package, soldier, his partner yelled, who didn’t stray but a couple of feet from the sedan. Sissy was punched in the face and swept over the large man’s shoulder. She felt the mercenary underneath her, jog with her over to the sedan. She heard the trunk door open. No matter how much she elbowed her abductor in the back of the head, it would not stop them from wrapping packaging tape over her mouth, wrists, and ankles. She felt the hard slam of the trunk floor as she was thrown into a solid compartment. She felt the pressure of the air go out of the hot trunk and heard the sounds from the surrounding trees dampened as the trunk door slammed down on top of her. Sissy managed to slip her wrists passed the backs of her knees. She ripped the tape off her mouth and screamed from the pain.

You people are dead! You dumb asses are all dead! she screamed. Sissy felt the engine start up as well as the car start to move. Several seconds later, the car did not stop normally, it stopped abruptly. She heard the car doors open to the sedan. Sissy could hear the men yelling at someone. She then heard muffled gunshots, more men yelling. The yelling turned to screaming. The screaming turned to agonized begging and then more screaming. She was startled from the loud thud on top of the trunk door, as if someone had landed heavily on the back of the car and slid off the end.

Hey! Let me out of this damn car you-assholes! she screamed and sobbed. The trunk popped open. Sissy bit down on her bound writs and managed to get her arms free. She tore the tape around her ankles, squirmed out of the trunk and landed on her butt feeling the hard hot asphalt underneath her jeans. Sissy took a good whiff of the air. She stood and brushed the warm sand off her pants, took a few steps to the right and kicked something she didn’t expect to be there. Her entire body was shaking. Sissy knew the mercenaries were gone, but where? She took another deep whiff and listened intently.

Oh God, she said to herself. She reached down to the pavement and pulled up a bullet- proof field-vest. She noticed something that seemed ill balanced and giving weight to it.

Sissy felt it carefully but by doing so had managed to jostle a human hand out of the vest and heard it land onto the pavement, settling on her shoe.

Oh my God… not again, she said, with a shudder in her voice.

Yes… again, my dear Sissy, a voice resounded behind her, guttural and unforgiving.

***

Lorenzo arrived early to his study session with three other classmates. As whispers echoed from the long, tiled floors and tall traditional support columns, Lorenzo was inquisitive and helped his classmates with the material he was familiar with. Several hours of questions and answers later, they all walked away from that library feeling confident about an exam they would be up against in the next two days. He did love learning and knew that to not be able to, would kill a part of him. This idea drove fear into his heart, every time he would think about those boys back in Italy, the troubled boys. No future, no hope… and eventually no money, well… clean money anyway. His mother -Lisa, made sure he knew the difference as he grew older. He stopped his stroll as he saw the Texas wind push a tree in a strong sway, a storm was destined to roll through. He put his hand up to shield the bright-late sun and Texas dust from his eyes and then he remembered the scar on top of his left thumb. Lorenzo looked at it and remembered. He was swept back to that time in Italy, a month after his thirteenth birthday. Running around with his buddy Gianni on the green countryside and blue skies of Vetto Village. Playing on the ancient cobblestone streets and breathing the old air of the stone and brick buildings, that made up the schools and libraries that he was so familiar with. Gianni was a trouble-boy; Lorenzo’s momma would always name him.

That Gianni is not good for you Lorenzo, he will get into trouble, and you will follow him into it, she would say to her son every weekend after church.

In that Texas wind, Lorenzo ran his finger over that small scar on top of his thumb and remembered.

Hey Lorenzo, check out Carmen… oh man, Gianni taunted aloud, to be overheard as a gaggle of young girls walked by Lorenzo and Gianni. The two would just sit on that graffiti carved wooden bench in front of the library, after school would let out. They would make sure they got there early enough to catch all the young ladies as they walked by on their way home from Santa Theresa School for Girls. It wasn’t so much to meet anyone as it was to see everyone. Nothing was more fun to launch their comments of grandeur and throw winks to the giddy and giggling.

Hey! My name is Lorenzo, and I think you’re neat! Gianni would shout aloud, several yards to the group of fourteen-year- olds.

Lorenzo looked up long enough from carving his initials into the wooden arm of the library bench with a sharp ground stone.

Gianni, shut the hell up man! Lorenzo commanded, and then would knuckle Gianni in the arm, beat red in embarrassment.

Oh yeah, and I love your shoes! he added in loud follow through, rubbing his pulsating arm and laughing at the same time.

Oh come-on Lorenzo, lighten up man… you gotta make them laugh, so they’ll remember you when the spring is here…

referring to the Vetto neighborhood spring dance; a celebration where all the young teen boys and girls get together and respectfully dance under the keen pit- bull eye of the one’s grandmother or chaperone.

Yeah, but why do you got to use my name? asked Lorenzo horrified.

Oh, come on man... quit being a pussy, Gianni answered.

Lorenzo halted his conversation just long enough to notice a tall older looking boy walking very swiftly in their direction, maneuvering around other children, and passing adults, his fists clenched. Uh-oh…see Gianni, see? I think you pissed somebody off? warned Lorenzo pointing to the incoming.

Oh shit, Gianni uttered.

Which one of you piccola merdas shouted at my little sister? the tall boy yelled at them, closing in twenty-five feet away.

They both jumped up from where they were sitting and darted down the street together. The older boy followed chase.

Lorenzo looked over his shoulder to see the tall boy gaining on them. You better think of something Gianni… and quick! grunted Lorenzo with every heart- beating stomp of his brown school shoes against the old stone laden street. Gianni heard him and was already trying to remember the alley next to the Sartoria. We can make that fence, he assumed quickly, his arms and legs pumping.

Do you trust me? Gianni asked in mid run, gasping for air. Yes… just do something,

You better not stop, cause when I catch you…! the tall boy screamed at them… failing to finish his sentence from the exhaustion that was now weighing on them all. Lorenzo’s elbow knocked a seeming elderly man to the ground as they found the alley and rounded the corner.

I’m so sorry mister!

Lorenzo, move your ass! Gianni shouted halfway down the alley ahead of him with the angry tall boy in quickstep behind Lorenzo, panting. Lorenzo instantly scanned the end of the alley and saw what Gianni was running for his life to. He saw the small wooden crates and the dumpster and behind that, the wood fence. Over the fence, got to get over that fence, his thoughts screamed. He also knew that behind the fence they would be home free. This line of buildings backed to the park; there were eight acres of nothing but forest and soccer fields. He knew they would be safe from a vengeful flurry of fists and embarrassment at school. It wasn’t so much the beating they would take than it was the finger pointing, the snickering… the public lesson this older brother would have taught them. A lesson they would try to escape at all costs and by any means necessary. Ripped pants… no problem… a skinned knee from landing wrong off the fence… child’s play; but a face pummeling by someone’s older brother, would live on and remain attached to them through high school. Truth be said, that wasn’t the real reason… the family was the real reason.

There was always the shame, the backlash. It was a year of trouble and scolding from the parents and grandmothers, and aunts and uncles. Nope, take the fence and escape, take the fence and avoid the hell that awaited them from an older brother’s revenge.

Lorenzo came to a slow trot, Gianni, stop… we can talk to him. He panted, bent at the waist holding onto his knees. Gianni glanced back at Lorenzo, as he was well underway of building his own makeshift stepping platform to get up and onto the tall dumpster. Their escape, their green giant-like guard, backed to the wood fence. The tall boy rounded the corner to the alley and found the two younger boys bickering fifty feet in the end of the dim enclosure.

You can’t run for the rest of your life you piccole blatte! he shouted at them, trying to intimidate. He walked casually and cool; trying to close in on them, as the shorter-stockier boy climbed up on the dumpster.

We’re sorry… okay? Listen, there is no need to do this… Lorenzo pleaded and quickly backed up to the ready-made wooden crates.

Lorenzo, move your ass! scolded Gianni.

Lorenzo? That’s your name, what’s your last name? The older boy pointed at him, like an interrogator behind a lamp.

His name is fuck you! yelled Gianni, swiping his fingers under his chin. It was then Lorenzo knew Gianni was getting scared; he always seemed to lose his temper when he was truly scared.

This had happened once before when he and Lorenzo were smaller. When She had appeared to them and spoke to them both.

The tall boy darted at Lorenzo. Lorenzo banged a nervous step on the makeshift stepping platform, instantly his foot went through it, breaking the box almost in half.

Nowhere to run now…you little fuck! he stated loudly and in a split-second captured Lorenzo’s arm and twisted with authority.

Let him go… you fascio! screamed Gianni, who now had tears welling up.

Are you going to tell me your last name? he whispered to Lorenzo, who had already leaned forward at the waist grimacing, his arm twisted behind his back and hiked up the middle of his shoulder blades. Lorenzo, looked back at him with absolute resolution. As sweat and tears dripped gently off the end of his nose, he grunted from the pain in pride. You heard him… he said my name was FUCK YOU!

Instantly, the tall boy balled up his free hand and landed a strong right hook to Lorenzo’s lower lip, splitting it and drawing a dollop of blood. Gianni was pacing back and forth on top of the dumpster, weighing his options, quickly coming to the foreseeable conclusion that he was going to have to hop down off the dumpster and fight for his dear friend, risking embarrassment, shame and whatever else came with that. It was then Lorenzo heard a snap and for a second, believed it

was his own arm, maybe his shoulder at least. Nope, not him and not today.

He felt the tall boy’s grip loosen and fall free of him. Gianni’s verbal confirmation that something was not normal was a shower of obscenities dipped in fear and anger. He ignored his friend, and almost without thinking, understood. He understood very deeply the mistake all three had made that day. All three heard her voice… all three heard her voice in their minds.

His last name is Cacuzzo, and you… you are now mine, She stated guttural and drowning. Lorenzo and Gianni stood there as they watched this tall boy levitate at least nine feet from the ancient brick walkway of the dim alley.

What is going on? Stop this! he yelled at them and struggled wildly but without success. The two younger boys could only just stand there, perfectly still, gaping at him.

Lorenzo dropped to his knees and bowed his head almost without even thinking, Please, I will do whatever you want, just put him down… let him go, please I beg you.

Who are you talking to? What the hell is this…! Get me down! Listen, you get me down right now or …. I will kick both your asses! he screamed at them struggling. Instantly, Gianni dropped six feet from the tall dumpster and wiped the tears from his face with his shirt sleeve, then grabbed at the back of Lorenzo’s shirt.

Remember what she said before? he whispered to the side of Lorenzo’s ear, He’s done, because of us… get your ass up that dumpster right now!

He tightened his grip on the back of Lorenzo’s collier. Lorenzo spun around and found the footing on the side of the dumpster. Gianni got underneath him and pushed up underneath Lorenzo’s butt until he reached the top.

What the hell is this? the tall boy screamed, wiggling in midair.

Lorenzo reached down and helped Gianni scramble to the top of their escape route.

Don’t you guys leave me like this, he screamed at them again, you can’t leave me like this!

They both sensed real fear in the tall boy’s voice this time. Lorenzo looked at the boy with complete sympathy and regret, I am so sorry, he said calmly, with tears streaming down his red cheeks and stinging his lip. Lorenzo and Gianni were very much aware of what was in-store for him. Gianni hopped the fence and dropped ten feet to the grassy yard on the other side. Lorenzo quickly followed, but on his way down, banged his hand on one of the splintering fence planks and sliced the top of his thumb open. Lorenzo winced and wrapped his thumb into his shirt and darted with Gianni to the tree line, beyond that were the soccer fields. Gianni was by Lorenzo’s side, running feverishly. He looked over his left shoulder and caught the sight of the fence that they had just dropped down from.

Don’t look back Gianni! he screamed at this friend. Lorenzo instantly noticed his friend as he slowed his gallop to a mere walk and then stood still, gazing at the fence they had just left. Lorenzo stopped and joined his friend’s side.

She stood there, on the points of the nine-foot wooden planks, perfectly upright, with laws of gravity available for her will and pleasure. Her pale naked body shined in the late afternoon sun. She stood there, smiling over a hundred yards away, baring those blue-gray teeth at them both. Her black hair was flickering in the warm breeze. Gianni got down on his knees and heaved everything he had. Lorenzo sobbed loudly and openly. As she stood there, over a hundred yards away smiling back at them, they could hear the tall boy screaming long tortured screams of mercy, screaming for his holy savior. Then they heard nothing.

It was six months when those two found themselves back on that graffiti carved bench. However, the verbal frolic was somewhat tight-lipped. They had both, pretty much kept their conversations at a minimum and their tone at a low decimal.

Did you hear what she said, two chapters by next Monday. What a bitch, Gianni griped looking into the crowd passing on the sidewalk. Lorenzo nodded in perspective, rubbing his healed scar on the top of his thumb. He loved school and unbeknownst to Gianni, enjoyed the assignments, but he also loved commiserating with his friend about the arbitrary pain in

the ass facts of life called homework. At the end of the day, it was normal, and Lorenzo loved normal.

He tensed his expression and turned toward Gianni, What do you... what do you think happened to him? he asked.

But Gianni just looked forward and frowned. There was no need to ask whom Lorenzo was referring, he knew…it had been weighing on them both for half the year, like a dank, mildewing blanket. After a moment of silence Gianni could no longer hold his tongue, Lorenzo…I dunno. I mean…what do YOU think happened to him? then peered back at his friend as he crossed himself and sighed in stress.

It was on that day, as Lorenzo’s memory traced back those five plus years, he wasn’t sure who saw that not-so tall boy first. He remembered seeing the beautiful sister pushing her brother in that chrome and black wheelchair down the market walk.

Lorenzo noticed her place her hand on her brother’s shoulder and bend down to his ear. Lorenzo remembered the glint of the sun, off her small gold crucifix that rested on his shoulder as she talked softly to the side of her brother’s face. He remembered