The Ties That Bind

“Get dressed, T,” Dog ordered from the hall. “Don’t yell while I’m watching TV, boy,” I heard Bill say. “Whatever,” Dog said. “Don’t smart-mouth me, boy, or I’ll put your little ass through the wall.” “You and who’s army?” Dog replied. The two most pigheaded people I knew having it out in front of me was not something I wanted to deal with at the moment. I jumped into the hall and motioned to Dog to come to my room. Bill popped off again, but I made a motion to Dog to not respond. He sneered in Bill’s direction the whole way back. “Get your fuckin’ clothes on. We gotta go,” Dog demanded. “What are you talking about?” I said as I crawled back in bed. “I’m talking about all hell’s breaking loose out there so get the fuck up!“ Dog demanded. “Why, what happened?” “It’s Thumper,” Dog said. “What’s he done now, catch somebody else from North Lake fucking his sister?” “No, but they did firebomb his fucking house.” ‘WHAT?” Firebombing a house was way beyond anything that anyone had ever done, so hearing those words caught my attention. “You heard me.” “You mean the house where he lives?’ “Yeah, him, his slut sister, his moms, and his baby brother. His mom and baby brother are freezing their asses off on the streets wearing nothing but their fucking P.J.s while all their shit’s going up in smoke.” “Where the hell is Thump?” “We don’t know. A couple of the boys are out looking for him.” “Where’s his sister?” “We don’t know that either. She’s probably off somewhere with a dick up in her. That’s how this shit got started in the first place.” “’Face That Launched a Thousand Ships.’” “What?” Dog asked. “Helen of Troy.” “Who the fuck are Helen and Troy and what the fuck do they have to do with this?” “Never mind. Just get out of here, will you, I’m trying to sleep,” I laid back down and pulled the covers up over me. “Fuck sleep!” Dog said as he yanked the sheets off of me. “One of our boy’s cribs just got firebombed and you’re thinking its naptime. Get your lazy ass out of bed and come the fuck on!” “And what the fuck are we going to do about it right now?” I questioned. “Whatever we fuckin’ have to. You know the rule, bitch,” Dog demanded, “now get the fuck up.” It was at that point that Dog flipped on the lights. Bill yelled something about us being quiet again. Dog was right. I did know the rules. I had no choice but really didn’t want to go. Going along would pull me right back where I had decided I didn’t want to be. But there was no way around it. I decided I would make an appearance then try to figure out some way to get away from everything once I got there. Community policing or not, if the North Lake Posse was responsible for Thumper’s house, South Loriville was about to start looking even more like Vietnam than Mayberry and I didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire. I just wasn’t sure how I was going to avoid it. I shook my head when the irony hit me. Just a few hours before I was talking about how much I wanted to get out of all this bullshit and how I was going to figure out a way to make that happen. Now here I was getting dressed at 2:30 a.m. to go to war. I didn’t even get a chance to nap. “And what the hell happened to your face?” Dog asked. “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “One of those North Lake pussies jump you?” Dog asked. “No,” I answered, “I got blindsided by one of Kimberly’s old boyfriends at that Christmas party tonight.” “I hope you fucked his preppy ass up.” “Not really.” “What do you mean, not really?” Dog asked. “He was so drunk that all I had to do was nail him once in the gut and it doubled him over. I thought the jackass was going to hurl, so I let it go at that.” “You mean you didn’t start wailin’ on his ass when you had him down even after he blindsided you?” “That’s exactly what I mean.” “You know everybody’s been saying that you lost your nerve and that’s why you haven’t been around. I’ve been telling them they’re wrong, that they just don’t know you,” Dog said. “I don’t know, maybe I’m the one who doesn’t know you so well anymore.” “What the hell are you talking about?” “Don’t worry about it,” Dog stated. “No Dog, what the fuck are you talking about?” “It doesn’t matter.” “Then tell me,” I ordered in an annoyed tone. “Don’t worry about it Thad, I’ve been covering for you,” Dog snapped. “Covering for what?” “Just get dressed!” “Tell me, Dog!” I was getting angry. Without realizing it, I had stood up and Dog and I were face-to-face and toe-to-toe. “You two little pricks better quiet down or I’m gonna put my foot up both your asses,” Bill ordered from the hall. That broke the tension. Without exchanging another word, we both realized that going at it right then and there wasn’t a good idea. We eased back from each other. We stared at each other. We slowly began to breathe. I began to look for my clothes. “You really want to know who’s been talking shit?” Dog asked calmly. “Do you really want to tell me?” “No,” Dog said, “but you need to know.” “So tell me.” “Everybody. Everybody is talking about how you’re never around, everybody’s talking about how you don’t hang out with the boys, and everybody is talking about how instead of being here where you belong, you’re off at some fancy ass country club circle jerk. They’re saying that if you ain’t there for us, there’s no reason we should be there for you.” “Is that what they’re saying?” “Yeah, that’s what they’re saying. And unless you want them to keep on saying it, you better get dressed and get out there with me right now because brother, it is on.” My loyalty to the Diggers was being questioned. Up to that point that would have really mattered. Right then I didn’t care. But what I did care about was that if we were going to war and I was out on my own, being me would become very, very dangerous. I began to dress. I threw on a pair of jeans, my long-sleeved gray t-shirt, and my running shoes. As I reached into the closet to grab my jacket, I heard Dog say, “Make sure you don’t forget that.” He was pointing to the green bandana that lay on top of my dresser. It was the one Thomas gave me when I got quoted. It had been so many months since I had taken it off of there that it had begun collecting dust. “What do you mean?” I said. “I mean we’re about to march into war, and you better make damn sure you’re in uniform,” Dog stated coldly. I paused for a moment. He was right. The flag was under a framed picture of Kimberly and myself. Without a word, I reached down and yanked it up. The picture fell face down on the dresser. I put the bandanna around my wrist and nodded that it was time to go. I put my jacket on before I headed out and turned off the light. As I did, I noticed myself in the mirror. My bandana was green. My jacket was black. Anyone who saw me would instantly know what I was. I also saw the sport coat hanging in the closet. It had only been a few hours since I was wearing it and telling Kimberly I had decided I was done with all this. When I said it, I meant it. But there I was on that very same night marching head long back into it.