by Ronald Louis Peterson

Created on: July 25, 2009   Last Updated: August 04, 2009

Aiding the Enemy

"Always so brave when you're with a crowd," Al said while glaring into Billy's eyes.

"I don't need anybody else to take you. The only reason I didn't do it when we were kids was my old man. And, since he ain't around anymore, guess what?" Billy snarled as he handed his bat to the tall Apostle, and motioned for his two buddies to give him and Al some room.

Al took a boxing stance facing Billy, and repeated the Disciple mantra to himself, "Be tough, brave, intelligent and loyal."

"I never liked you. You always rubbed me the wrong way," Billy seethed.

"That's your problem," Al shot back. "I always minded my own business, but you.... you weren't happy unless you were making my life miserable."

Billy swung his fist hard at Al's face, but missed when Al moved to the side and deflected it with his open hand.

"You didn't mind your own business, Daniel Boone. And, always bragging about coming from Kentucky, like you were somebody special," Billy corrected Al, as he swung again, hitting Al in the stomach this time.

Al backed up to catch his breath. "I only talked about Kentucky when people asked me about it. Special...? Me...? Confused! Lonely! Freak!.... was more like it," Al barked as all those painful memories kindled a fire in him.

Before Billy could respond, Al lunged at him, landing two blows... one to Billy's side and the other to his nose, which started to bleed.

A startled Billy backed up a few steps and wiped the blood running down his face with his hand. Billy, now enraged, pointed at Al with his blood-covered finger and said, "Now.... now you learn a lesson you won't forget, Daniel."

"Get him Billy! Yeah!" urged his fellow Apostles.

"Go away! Take that stuff somewhere else!" shouted an elderly woman from her third-floor apartment window overlooking the fight scene from across the street.

"What was that Grandma? I can't hear you!" laughed the tall one.

"You'll hear the police when they come!" she shouted even louder.

Billy swung his fist wildly at Al a couple times, but didn't connect.

"Come on! You can do better than that," mocked Al.

"Shut up and fight," Billy demanded, before grabbing Al's arms and wrestling him to the ground. As they rolled around on the sidewalk, they exchanged punches. Billy's bloody nose smeared blood on both their clothes. It was a bright red on Al's white tee shirt, brown on his tan jacket, and a darker shade of burgundy on Billy's sweater.

"How do you like that?" Billy scowled after landing a solid

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