hitting him squarely on the jaw, spinning his head sideways. He brought his head back and smiled at me.
I knew it would take more to hurt this guy, and I didn’t have the time as Goatee would be attacking my rear at any second.
I twisted his wrist as far as I could, and drove my next punch into his throat. He tried to move out of the way, but wasn’t fast enough. His Adam’s apple was my target, and I hit it hard enough to affect his trachea.
He dropped the knife, staggered back, and fell to his knees, his hands clinging to his throat, gasping for air.
I turned around just as Scott was kicking Goatee.
“Scott, that’s enough.”
I later learned that Goatee had stayed on his feet and was about to deal me a double-fisted sandwich when Scott surprised him with a kick to the stomach. I had no idea Scott was a fighter.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said, my stomach turning, my nerves feeling like I’d been tased.
Tabby ran for our Buick. After scooping up our alcohol, I followed, got in, started it up, and drove to the exit with Scott and Allison close behind. As I pulled out, I looked over my shoulder and saw Tear Drop pointing his arm at me. His hand was empty, but he was holding it in a mock interpretation of a gun. He dropped his thumb and lifted his finger as if his gun had gone off.
The message was clear: you’re dead .
When we arrived at the cabin, I asked if we could avoid talking about it, so as not to ruin our weekend. Everyone agreed, except Scott suggested that we at least contact the local police and tell them what had happened.
We called North Bay Police and they drove out to the cabin on our second day. After we gave them our full statement, they said they’d be on the lookout. They also said that what we did was a brave thing, but to be careful in the future. We could’ve gotten killed.
On Sunday, our moods were lighter. Everything was back to normal and we were having a blast. The weather had been awesome and the water in the lake, warm.
I stood on a large rock with Tabitha, and together we both stared out at the view of Lake Nippissing. As the sun set it cast stunning colors across the sky. A few boats raced over its surface on a journey to their docks before full dark. But it wasn’t the beauty that stopped me, it was the tragedy. The real reason we had come to spend the four days here was because of my parents.
My insides twisted as I thought of them and how they had died one year ago today, on Lake Nippissing, in a boating accident. The autopsy confirmed death by drowning. I hadn’t been on the lake since. I used to Jet Ski all the time. The lake had been a second home for my family. I’d talked about it at length with Tabitha and I had decided that this weekend I would go out on a boat, but we hadn’t yet. It’d be hard to look into the depths and know that this water took my family from me, but it was something I had to do.
“You okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine.”
“Good, then you can help Scott and Allison with the rest of their bags. They’re leaving early to get back to the city.”
I headed over to their vehicle to lend a hand. When I was close to Scott’s Jeep, he scrunched up a brown paper bag that he’d taken from Allison’s hand.
“You guys having an early evening snack?” I asked.
Scott looked at me. “We’ve finished it, otherwise I would have offered you some.”
His manner seemed forced, somehow acting over-nice. What the hell is that all about?
I stepped up to him and grabbed his can of Pepsi. “The least you could do is give me a swig of your drink.”
I only had the can on my lips long enough for one full swallow. Then Scott reached out and pushed me hard. I lost my balance, fell to the pine-needle littered dirt, and dropped the Pepsi can.
“Don’t swallow, spit it out!” Scott shouted at me.
I leaned on my elbow and made to stand.
I knew it would take more to hurt this guy, and I didn’t have the time as Goatee would be attacking my rear at any second.
I twisted his wrist as far as I could, and drove my next punch into his throat. He tried to move out of the way, but wasn’t fast enough. His Adam’s apple was my target, and I hit it hard enough to affect his trachea.
He dropped the knife, staggered back, and fell to his knees, his hands clinging to his throat, gasping for air.
I turned around just as Scott was kicking Goatee.
“Scott, that’s enough.”
I later learned that Goatee had stayed on his feet and was about to deal me a double-fisted sandwich when Scott surprised him with a kick to the stomach. I had no idea Scott was a fighter.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said, my stomach turning, my nerves feeling like I’d been tased.
Tabby ran for our Buick. After scooping up our alcohol, I followed, got in, started it up, and drove to the exit with Scott and Allison close behind. As I pulled out, I looked over my shoulder and saw Tear Drop pointing his arm at me. His hand was empty, but he was holding it in a mock interpretation of a gun. He dropped his thumb and lifted his finger as if his gun had gone off.
The message was clear: you’re dead .
When we arrived at the cabin, I asked if we could avoid talking about it, so as not to ruin our weekend. Everyone agreed, except Scott suggested that we at least contact the local police and tell them what had happened.
We called North Bay Police and they drove out to the cabin on our second day. After we gave them our full statement, they said they’d be on the lookout. They also said that what we did was a brave thing, but to be careful in the future. We could’ve gotten killed.
On Sunday, our moods were lighter. Everything was back to normal and we were having a blast. The weather had been awesome and the water in the lake, warm.
I stood on a large rock with Tabitha, and together we both stared out at the view of Lake Nippissing. As the sun set it cast stunning colors across the sky. A few boats raced over its surface on a journey to their docks before full dark. But it wasn’t the beauty that stopped me, it was the tragedy. The real reason we had come to spend the four days here was because of my parents.
My insides twisted as I thought of them and how they had died one year ago today, on Lake Nippissing, in a boating accident. The autopsy confirmed death by drowning. I hadn’t been on the lake since. I used to Jet Ski all the time. The lake had been a second home for my family. I’d talked about it at length with Tabitha and I had decided that this weekend I would go out on a boat, but we hadn’t yet. It’d be hard to look into the depths and know that this water took my family from me, but it was something I had to do.
“You okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine.”
“Good, then you can help Scott and Allison with the rest of their bags. They’re leaving early to get back to the city.”
I headed over to their vehicle to lend a hand. When I was close to Scott’s Jeep, he scrunched up a brown paper bag that he’d taken from Allison’s hand.
“You guys having an early evening snack?” I asked.
Scott looked at me. “We’ve finished it, otherwise I would have offered you some.”
His manner seemed forced, somehow acting over-nice. What the hell is that all about?
I stepped up to him and grabbed his can of Pepsi. “The least you could do is give me a swig of your drink.”
I only had the can on my lips long enough for one full swallow. Then Scott reached out and pushed me hard. I lost my balance, fell to the pine-needle littered dirt, and dropped the Pepsi can.
“Don’t swallow, spit it out!” Scott shouted at me.
I leaned on my elbow and made to stand.
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