Walking Disaster

“And crazy is exactly the way I like it,” she said, leaning up to kiss my lips.

“Obviously,” America muttered under breath.

Before the sun set too far into the horizon, America and Shepley took the Charger south.

Abby shook the Honda keys and smiled. “At least we don’t have to freeze on the Harley.”

I smiled.

Abby shrugged. “Maybe we should, I don’t know, consider getting our own car?”

“After the fight, we’ll go shopping for one. How about that?”

She jumped up, wrapped her arms and legs around me, and covered my cheeks, mouth, and neck with kisses.

I walked up the stairs to the apartment, making a beeline to the bedroom.

Abby and I spent the next four days snuggled up either in the bed, or on the couch with Toto, watching old movies. It made waiting on Adam’s call tolerable.

Finally on Tuesday night, between Boy Meets World reruns, Adam’s number lit up my cell phone’s display. My eyes met Abby’s.

“Yeah?”

“Mad Dog. You’re up in an hour. Keaton Hall. Bring your game face, sweet pea, he’s Hulk Hogan on steroids.”

“See you then.” I stood up, bringing Abby with me. “Change into something warm, baby. Keaton is an old building, and they’ve probably shut off the heaters for break.”

Abby did a little happy dance before jogging down the hall to the bedroom. The corners of my mouth turned up. What other woman would be that excited to see her boyfriend trade punches? No wonder I fell in love with her.

I slipped on a hoodie and my boots, and waited for Abby by the front door.

“Coming!” she called, strutting around the corner. She gripped each side of the door jamb and shifted her hip to the side.

“What do you think?” she asked, pouting her lips attempting to imitate a model . . . or a duck. I wasn’t sure which.

My eyes traveled down from her long, heather gray cardigan, white T, and tight blue jeans tucked inside tall black boots. She meant it as a joke, thinking she looked frumpy, but my breath caught at the sight of her.

Her body relaxed, and she let her hands fall to her thighs. “That bad?”

“No,” I said, trying to find the words. “Not bad at all.”

With one hand I opened the door, and held out the other. With a bounce in her walk, Abby crossed the living room and intertwined her fingers in mine.

The Honda was slow to start, but we made it to Keaton in plenty of time. I called Trenton on the way, hoping to God he would come through for me like he’d promised.

Abby stood with me, waiting for Trenton beside the tall, seasoned north wall of Keaton. The east and west walls were protected with steel scaffolding. The university was preparing to give their oldest building a face-lift.

I lit a cigarette and took a drag, blowing smoke out of my nose.

Abby squeezed my hand. “He’ll be here.”

People were already filtering in from every direction, parking blocks away in different lots. The closer it came to fight time, the more people could be seen scaling the south fire escape.

I frowned. The building choice hadn’t been thought through. The last fight of the year always brought the more serious punters out, and they always came early so they could place their bets and secure a good view. The size of the pot also brought out the less experienced spectators, who showed up late and ended up flattened against the walls. This year’s was exceptionally large. Keaton was on the outskirts of campus, which was preferred, but its basement was one of the smallest.

“This is one of the worst ideas Adam has had yet,” I grumbled.

“It’s too late to change it now,” Abby said, her eyes traveling up the concrete blocks.

I popped open my cell and shot a sixth text to Trenton, and then snapped the phone shut.

“You seem nervous tonight,” Abby whispered.

“I’ll feel better when Trent gets his punk ass here.”

“I’m here, you whiny little girl,” Trenton said in a hushed voice.

I sighed with relief.

“How ya been, sis?” Trenton asked Abby, hugging her with one arm, and then playfully shoving me with the other.

“I’m good, Trent,” she said, amused.

I led Abby by the hand to the back of the building, glancing back to Trenton as we walked. “If the cops show and we get separated, meet me at Morgan Hall, okay?”

Trenton nodded just as I stopped next to an open window low to the ground.

“You’re f**kin’ with me,” Trenton said, staring down at the window. “Abby’s barely gonna fit through there.”

“You’ll fit,” I assured him, crawling down into the blackness inside.

Now accustomed to breaking and entering, Abby didn’t hesitate to crawl on the frozen ground and inch backward through the window, falling into my arms.

We waited for a few moments, and then Trenton grunted as he pushed off the ledge and landed on the floor, nearly losing his balance as his feet hit the concrete.

“You’re lucky I love Abby. I wouldn’t do this shit for just anyone,” he grumbled, brushing off his shirt.

I jumped up, shutting the window with one quick pull. “This way,” I said, leading Abby and my brother through the dark.

We weaved farther into the building until a small flicker of light could be seen ahead. A low hum of voices came from the same point, as our three pairs of feet grated against the loose concrete on the floor.

Trenton sighed after the third turn. “We’re never gonna find our way out of here.”

“Just follow me out. It’ll be fine,” I said.

It was easy to discern how close we were by the growing volume of the crowd waiting in the main room. Adam’s voice came over the bullhorn, yelling names and numbers.

I stopped in the next room, glancing around at the desks and chairs covered in white sheets. A sick feeling came over me. The venue was a mistake. Almost as big as bringing Abby somewhere so dangerous. If a fight broke out, Abby would be protected by Trenton, but the usual safe haven away from the crowd was full of furniture and equipment.

“So how you’re gonna play this?” Trenton asked.

“Divide and conquer.”

“Divide what?”

“His head from the rest of his body.”

Trenton nodded quickly. “Good plan.”

“Pigeon, I want you to stand by this doorway, okay?” Abby looked into the main room, her eyes wide as she took in the chaos. “Pigeon, did you hear me?” I asked, touching her arm.

“What?” she asked, blinking.

“I want you to stand by this doorway, okay? Keep hold of Trent’s arm at all times.”

“I won’t move,” she said. “I promise.”

I smiled at her sweet, overwhelmed expression. “Now you look nervous.”

She glanced to the doorway, and then back at me. “I don’t have a good feeling about this, Trav. Not about the fight, but . . . something. This place gives me the creeps.”

I couldn’t disagree. “We won’t be here long.”

Adam’s voice came over the horn, starting his opening announcement.

I touched each side of Abby’s face, and looked into her eyes. “I love you.” A ghost of a smile touched her lips, and I pulled her into me, holding her tight against my chest.

“. . . so don’t use your hos to scam the system, boys!” Adam’s voice said, amplified by the bullhorn.