I remembered vaguely that it was going to be a very busy day today. All I kept seeing was Mocha Daze in a shambles.
And poor Hugo, in the middle of all of it.
The police came, took their statements, and went away.
They were cold.
But then, why should they? They were just doing their job. It was our job, Hugo's friends -- to pick up the pieces of his store and his heart. He gave me a broom and told me to start picking up the pieces by the bathrooms.
He should have been crying, wailing. Grieving. I was. Sweep, sniff. Sweep, sniff.
After finishing sweep detail, I came to work.
Only to find Rudy Marinaro waiting for me.
"Heyyyyy, thailor", he lisped... "wanna show me a good time?"
I punched him. Ow!
Damnit!
Damnit!
Damnit!
I punched him. Right in his fat gut. I couldn't help myself.
I could already hear Mark yelling at me. He warned me not to get physical with Rudy -- but it was enough. Seeing Mocha Daze in shambles this morning was enough. The ongoing little squabbles with Eric about his parents visiting was enough.
It was enough.
I punched him.
And it felt amazing. Wow! Who knew? Who knew hitting someone would feel so great? I felt like an animal. I felt like a boxer.
The last time I hit someone was Nellie McGraw in the sixth grade when she cheated at tetherball. I got in trouble from the yard duty teacher and was sent to the principal, Mr. Deck.
But I remember -- hitting Nellie felt terrific.
And so did hitting Rudy Marinaro.
