Transition: Chapter 33 (Sturdivant)

The incredible, shooting pain clears the cobwebs from Billy Barton’s brain with breathtaking speed.

Billy has been getting used to the dull ache in his hand, it’s no worse than the usual level of pain he’s become accustomed to tolerating after countless bar fights. But the searing agony in the middle of his face is something new. He rolls on the ground, screaming and cursing, while Stevie Hutchinson and Eddie Sweeney dust themselves off and consider whether they want to risk getting close enough to Billy to try to help stand up.

“LEGGO A ME!” Billy screams the second that Stevie reaches out tentatively and touches his arm. (His cry carries back to Federal, where it brings a smile to the lips of Louise Palopolous as she mops the fouled floor.) Struggling to his feet, Billy yanks a greasy blue bandanna from a back pocket and presses it to his face. “Oh, Jesus,” he moans, “I’m hurt. I’m hurt bad.”

“Billy?” Stevie licks his lips nervously. “Billy, maybe we better take you to the hospital or something.”

“Fuck you guys,” Billy mumbles belligerently, as he begins to stumble off into the darkness. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere with you pussies.”

“Where you going, Billy?” Stevie rushes after Billy, but he’s careful to maintain a safe distance a few paces away. Billy is unpredictable even when things are going well, when he’s angry all bets are off. “My car’s over that way.”

“I ain’t gettin’ into no car with you assholes.” Billy is picking up speed and speaking more clearly as the pain subsides to an insistent throb. “Just leave me the fuck alone.”

But Eddie and Stevie, with nothing else to do, continue to follow close behind as Billy stumbles down the street. “Where’s he going?” Eddie whispers; but Stevie just shrugs.

So they follow a few feet behind Billy, like ducklings, as he leads them down Cohonsett Avenue for two blocks, then three. He’s going to Fergie’s, Stevie thinks, which makes sense. Fergie’s is the last store on Cohonsett Avenue in the direction Billy is going, after that it’s just empty lots and then nothing but farmland. And, as Sturdivant’s only all-night drug store, Fergie’s is the logical place for Billy to find something to ease his pain and dress his wounds.

But logic isn’t what’s driving Billy. He’s not going anywhere. He’s just walking off the anger and the pain, his head lowered like an enraged bull, fleeing from the humiliation that follows him like a persistent shadow.

And so he could just as easily keep walking down Cohonsett Avenue. There’s no real reason why he should take a sudden turn into a dark alley.

No reason at all.

But that’s exactly what he does.