Limitless Speed

Chapter 5: Drunken Chimney

6:00 AM. "Freddy, up, now!" Rosie tells me. I get up and do my daily routine then go down stairs. As I'm walking down the steps I hear a man, with a deep voice talking then I hear my mom say, "you. Need. To leave." I get to the bottom and see the man. He's wearing a brown raggedy leather jacket that's a little big on him, ripped jeans, an Aero Smith black T-shirt, and an American Eagle hat. He looks at me, then says, "hey kid, how ya doing?" "Good," I reply. "Who are you? Your not who I think you are? Are you?" "Well, who do you think I am?" "My father..." I tell him. He accepts the role by holding up his arms. "I wasn't finished," I say. "Rosie, up stairs!" Mom commands. Rosie goes up.

I continue. "My father... The drunken chimney?" "Excuse me?" He says with a face that looks as if I punched him and knocked a tooth out, which I want to. "Drunken chimney??" "Yeah, you were a drunken shitbag that smoked like a chimney." "Watch it boy!" "Do NOT talk to MY son that way! You walked out." The man walks into the kitchen and mom chases him. He grabs a knife and slams her against the wall with the knife against her throat. I run in the den and unlock my hidden safe that I made with a shelf, the wall, and some wood. In it, I grab my brass knuckles that keep them run into the kitchen.

"Just like old times, huh old man?" I taunt him. "Except, I'm a bit older than I was sixteen years ago." He looks back a little then turns around. I have the knuckles in my pocket. He walks towards me with the knife raised, I walk towards him slowly then with the no knuckle hand punch him in the gut. He leans over and the I hammer the brass into his teeth and again into his nose and again into his cheek. In my head two words are being repeated: Right, left. Right, left. Right, left. Right, left. I can tell he's expecting me to have my eyes close, he doesn't believe in me or think I can do anything. How about now "dad", but my eyes are open, staring at him in anger.

His face: bloody, his nose: broken, his jaw: cracked and broken at a joint, his right eye: as big as a walnut and purple as a grape, his left eye: smashed into his skull probably a severed or split retina, his forehead: dented. His whole head is a bloody pulp and I say. "Whatcha think was gonna happen dad? You come back n' think we're all just goody goody. Hell no, I was there when you beat," l nod to mom. I take my brass knuckles to him again. "Every! Single! Time!" I say as I beat his chest trying to collapse a lung because my mom was in the hospital for seven months for a collapsed lung. This man collapsed it. He acknowledged the rage and hatred in me. "Son," he says hoarsely. "I'm sorry, you must be thinking of someone else, dickhead. You can't be stupid enough to think that you were gonna waltz in here and own this house again. Oh wait you are." I punch the shit outta his gut and chest then get up and put him in my car and I drive him to the hospital.