Crazed and Defused - Part IV

Since this is Part IV, you might want to read Parts I-III, below, first...

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At 11:15, just as Mitch was thinking that maybe Toby and his boys had forgotten about Sam or moved onto the next distraction, a nondescript, dark blue Ford pulled up under his tree. Nobody got out. Mitch could hear the ticking of the car as it cooled. He could hear them talking.

“That’s his car!” said Toby in a hoarse whisper. He sounded a little too excited. Mitch just couldn’t figure out why this joker had it in for Sam. Had Sam said or done something to him? Mitch doubted it. Sam kept pretty much to himself. Was there a girl involved? Had Sam dated someone that Mitch considered “his?” Mitch thought about it. He’d seen Sam with Pam Dabney a few times. Had Toby ever dated her or expressed any interest in her? Not that Mitch could remember. How about Melanie Cooper? Sam had dated her for more than a year, from April of their sophomore year to the end of their junior year and into the summer. Did Toby have the hots for Mel? Hmmm. In Mitch’s estimation, that would be enough for Toby to want to “take care” of Sam. Maybe that was it. He listened some more, thinking all the while about what he would do when or if they made a move on Sam.

“Toby, what is it with you?” asked Jake. Mitch could almost see the smirk on Jake’s face as he probed Toby for some sanity. “Whatta you got against Sam anyway? I think we all want to know.”
Mitch heard a “yeah” or two from the other guys in the car. He guessed there were at least four, perhaps even five, guys in the car, including Toby and Jake. The full contingency.
“Where do I start?” said Toby. “I could start with his overall dickishness, I guess.”
“What?” said Jake.
“Jake, if you don’t want to be here, just leave, okay?” said Toby. Nice misdirection, thought Mitch.
“No, really, Toby. What did he ever do to you? Did he look at you wrong or something? Did he pork your girlfriend? Oh! I forgot! You don’t have a girlfriend!” Mitch could hear Toby repositioning himself in the front seat, the gentle squeaks of leather on vinyl. He sounds uncomfortable, Mitch thought to himself. Wonder if anyone has ever asked him a direct question like that. Or confronted him like this.

“Is he seeing someone you’ve claimed in your godhood, Toby?” continued Jake. “Is that it? Did you claim his current girlfriend, whoever that is? Or did you secretly want Mel for yourself last year? What is it? We’d all really like to know.” Mitch could sense the tension in the car. The driver’s door opened and Toby’s boot touched the ground outside the car. He was ready to vacate the uncomfortable air of the car.

“No, Jake,” Mitch heard him say as he put his other boot outside the car as well. “I can’t stand this puke because he thinks he’s such hot shit, that’s all. I lay no claim to anything or anyone, past or present. Happy? Satisfied? Anything else?” Toby completely vacated the car and stood beside it cupping his hand over a cigarette he was having trouble lighting. Mitch watched closely. Toby was shaking.

Jake stepped out of the passenger side and peered over the roof of the car at Toby. “He thinks he’s hot shit?” Jake asked scornfully. “You gotta be kidding. I thought you actually had a reason. You’re a fuckin’ idiot.” Jake began to slowly walk around the car toward Toby, looking in all directions as he came.

Toby finished lighting his cigarette, forcing himself to be cool and stand his ground. Jake was a tough dude. Not like Toby. Toby just thought he was tough. Jake could hand him his ass in a heartbeat. Toby inhaled and held the butt in the coolest way he knew. The only thing Toby had going for him was that Jake really didn’t give a shit. He didn’t give a shit about Sam, about Toby’s misguided rage, about any of the guys in this group, about the school for that matter. He only hung out with Toby because it amused him sometimes. Jake approached Toby and Mitch could see that Toby was already in a fight-or-flight mode. His footwork was subtle, but Mitch was watching for it. He could see that Toby had turned slightly away from Jake, his right foot pointed toward his escape route. Toby also crossed his left arm over his chest, the cigarette in his right hand up by his mouth and the elbow of that right arm resting on his left hand. It looked casual, but it was a defensive pose. If Jake struck him suddenly, Toby could, theoretically, block it with his cigarette hand. Theoretically.

Jake stopped a few feet from Toby. “I think I’m sick of your shit, Toby. Sam’s a good dude. I don’t really care about either of you, but you’re acting like a dickhead. I have a good mind to smack you for dragging us out here.” Then Toby did something that Mitch did not expect.
He turned toward Jake and said “Then beat it, Jake. If you don’t want to be here, then beat it.” Mitch could sense the tension in Toby’s words, how much guts it took to say them. Jake studied him. One move and he could silence Toby, theoretical block and all. It was all up to Jake.

Just then the screen door at the side of Town Pizza whacked shut and Sam took a few steps toward his car. He looked up and saw Jake and Toby twenty feet away. He looked puzzled, tired. He waved meekly and got in his car. Toby didn’t move. Jake waved back. And then Jake swung a short, direct, heavy punch into Toby’s face. Toby’s head jerked back, struck the roof of the car, and he dropped to the ground.

“Put him in the back seat, would ya, Neil?” Jake asked. Neil got out of the back seat, stuffed Toby in, and went around to get in the front seat. Jake hopped into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

“See ya, Mitch!” Jake called as the car peeled away.

the end

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'til next time...