Scared Straight part 3

Timmy rubbed his sore shoulder as he sat in a chair across a small table from a man the size of a small battleship.  The man had no hair that Jimmy could see and somehow it made the man look even bigger.  Jimmy tried his staring into the eyes trick, but the man wouldn’t look straight at him.  After what seemed like five minutes of silence, Timmy decided to break the ice.  “So how often do you…”

“Shush,” said the man in a shouted whisper.  The man put a finger less than an inch away from Timmy’s nose and he wagged it back and forth.  “Fresh meat isn’t allowed to talk.”

Timmy sat back to put more room between him and the finger.  “You’ve got to be joking me,” Timmy said.

The man slammed his hand down onto the table, the sound reminding Timmy of a handgun he had once shot.  “I said shush,” the man said in a bit more full voice but still not much above a whisper.  “You need to know your place when you’re inside.”

Timmy was amazed the table hadn’t broken in two.  He smiled at the man and slammed his hand into the table as well.  The sound wasn’t as impressive, but Timmy was impressed nevertheless.

The man balled his huge hands into fists.  “What the hell was that about?” he shouted.

Timmy smiled.  “Why should I let you have all the fun?” Timmy asked.  Timmy stood up and began to walk away.

“Sit down you piece of shit!” yelled the man   “I’m not done with you yet.”

Timmy whipped around, and his voice became a forceful whisper.  “Shush,”

The man stood quickly, way too quickly for a man of that size.  The table went flying to the right and crashed into the wall.  “You.  Do.  Not.  Shush.  Me,” the man said.

“What are you going to do to me?” Timmy asked.  He tried to puff out his chest, making him look as big as he could.

The man marched right up to Timmy, forcing Timmy to bend back to look the man in the face.  Still the man would not meet Jimmy’s eyes. “You don’t want me to start,” the man said.

“You can’t do jack.  If you even touch me they’ll slap you so hard your grandkids will feel it,” Timmy said.

The man chuckled.  “I’m a lifer you little piece of shit,” the man said.  “They can’t slap me anymore.  All I can do is feel some pain.  Sort of like this.”  The man grabbed Timmy’s sore shoulder and squeezed.  The pain almost made Timmy pass out, but he rode the pain and channeled it into laughter.  The laughter earned him more pain, but that just created more laughter.

The man released his grip and Timmy dropped to his knees, the laughter subsiding as the sharp pain receded to a dull throbbing.   “What the hell,” said the man.  He reached down and picked Timmy up off the floor and then kept lifting till Timmy was at almost at eye level. “What is wrong with you kid?”

Timmy finally locked eyes with the guy.  The guy almost recoiled as if he had been head butted.  He dropped Timmy like he was poisonous.  Timmy pointed at the discarded table.  “Pick it up,” Timmy said.

The man squeezed his hands into fists three times while making sure to look anywhere but at Timmy’s eyes.  Finally he moved over to the battered table and picked it up.  He placed it back where it had been and sat back down.  He silently gestured to Timmy’s chair.

Timmy purposely kept his smile repressed as he moved back to his seat.  He quietly gestured for the man to talk.  The man looked at his huge hands, but finally began to speak.  “You really shouldn’t have come here,” the man said.

Timmy rubbed his sore shoulder.  “Tell me about it,” Timmy said.  “That prick Hobbs tried to break my arm.”

The man eagerly looked at Timmy.  “Want me to make sure he regrets it?” the man asked.  “I’ll do it.  He’s on my shit list already.  He was screwing around with someone on my crew.  Not someone who is important so I didn’t do anything, but messing with you…”

Timmy shook his head.  “Not yet Simon,” he said.  Simon looked disappointed.  All the rage seemed to be exhaled in one long sigh.  Timmy looked at Simon with predatory eyes.  “But I am glad they decided to have you be the one to scare me.  You were pretty convincing.“

Simon perked up.  “Thanks.  I try to be.  It keeps most of the other idiots at arm’s length.  The rest of them have some kind of mental problem.  Once I know that they have a bleeding problem.  After that I don’t have any more problems.”

“So what do we do next?” asked Timmy.

“They’re supposed to come get us in a bit, and you’re supposed to be all ready to piss yourself.  After that they will cut you lose with a promise that this is your future if you don’t do something about it,” Simon said.

Timmy noticed as Simon kept talking that he seemed to deflate.  Simon was still a big man, but that emotional rage somehow made Simon appear bigger.  That was something Timmy would need to remember.  It was a cool trick.  “So what do you think I should do?” asked Timmy.

Simon smiled a very chilling smile.  “That’s up to you, boss.  What are you going to do?” he asked.

Timmy liked the way Simon was smiling.  He joined him in that cold grin.  “I think I’m going to do something different alright.”

Simon’s grin faltered for just a moment before being pasted back on, and Timmy didn’t blame Simon one bit.

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