Chapter 4 #2
Then I see his fist coming at my face. We’re on the ground in a flash, the other guys yelling around us, and I hear Carl shout, “I’ve got twenty on the ginger!
” Austin and I tumble in the dirt, kicking and punching.
He hits me in the eye, and I hit him in the nose before two large, hairy arms haul me off Austin and to my feet.
“All right,” Canyon bellows. “Enough! Break it up.”
Timber has a hold of Austin. There’s blood dripping from his nose and onto his shirt.
“Go on,” Canyon says to Timber. “I’ve got it.”
Timber let’s Austin go and heads off to herd the other guys to the bonfire. Canyon unhands me, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hippie look so angry.
“Let’s go,” he says. “In there. Now.”
He directs us to a main building where the infirmary is to get patched up, and then to an area they call the Rap Room. Cushions and pillows cover the floor, tapestries hang on the walls, and there’s a tiny Buddha statue.
Canyon sits on one of the cushions and directs us to do the same. He looks at each of us. “We’re going to talk about what happened. Like adults. Like men. Only little boys fight with their fists. Men talk out their feelings. You understand?”
I press the cold compress over my eye and nod.
Canyon patiently waits.
I glance at Austin, and he wipes dried blood from his nose as he glances back. I’m almost disappointed I didn’t break it.
“We’ll start with you, then, Harvey.” Canyon looks at me.
I shake my head. “It was just a misunderstanding.”
“Austin, do you agree with that?”
“Yeah. Sure. Whatever,” he mutters.
Canyon studies us. “I get the sense that you two know each other from somewhere.”
“Look,” Austin says nasally, “it was just a stupid fight. It won’t happen again.” He shifts his gaze to me. I think he’s going to add because Harvey is leaving, but he doesn’t.
“Can you tell me why you hit Harvey?” Canyon asks him.
“Because I don’t want him here.”
“Okay,” Canyon says. “And why’s that?”
“I don’t know,” Austin mutters. “I just don’t.”
“Yes, you do,” Canyon says. “Just say it.”
“Because I hate him,” Austin replies. “Okay? I fucking hate him.”
“Good, good.” Canyon gestures with his hands. “Tell me more. Let it all out.”
“Because he’s here, and I don’t want him here, and I’m sick and fucking tired of him showing up everywhere I go.” He cuts his blazing eyes to me. “He ruins things. He’s nothing but worthless trash.”
Canyon blinks at Austin, then looks over at me. “Uh, Harvey, how do you feel about that?”
Austin’s insult surprisingly stings a little, but not for long. “Honestly, I don’t give a shit whether he’s here or not. Because I don’t have to pick fights like some little bitch on the rag.”
“You fucking bastard…” Austin growls.
“Hey.” Canyon holds up his hands. “I’m sensing lots of animosity. Years and years of animosity. Is that what’s going on?”
We both nod.
Canyon looks thoughtful for a few moments. “I think I’ve found a solution that will help you both.”
I don’t think I want to know.
By now, it’s dark. Everyone else is at the group bonfire, but Canyon has us go to our cabins to gather our things. I start preparing an explanation to Sunny and a way to convince Pete not to throw me in the slammer, but then I see what Canyon is doing.
And it’s way, way worse.
He unlocks the door to a larger cabin, cuts on the lights, and gestures inside. “Welcome home, fellas.”
It’s a bigger cabin with two beds on either side of the room, a window between them, two dressers, and even a stone fireplace. It would be a nice place to spend six weeks in, if I were alone.
“You can’t make us do this,” Austin says. “I paid for a private cabin.”
“That’s true,” Canyon responds. “I can’t make you do anything. You can leave anytime you want.”
Our choices clear, I make my way inside and choose a bed. There’s also a full bath we’ll have to share. Wonderful. I sit on the bed and remove the compress, gently touching my eye to find it’s still tender. Austin reluctantly shuffles inside and sits on the other bed.
Canyon stands in the doorway. “I’d like you two to take your meals together. Often, we can resolve differences while breaking bread.”
I’d like to break something all right. Austin is glowering at me like he’s thinking the same thing. This might not be a good idea. Canyon might be calling the cops in the morning to have one of us arrested for murder.
“You’re both excused from group this evening,” Canyon says, “so you can get settled in.”
We say nothing. I wonder if I could just leave, go somewhere besides home, and tell Pete I was here the whole time. But, no, he’d probably call. He probably already has, making sure I didn’t take a detour to the Bahamas or something.
Canyon walks into the room and stands between the beds, looking at both of us.
“This might seem counteractive, but neither of you can truly heal from your addictions if you’re holding onto this much anger.
Remember, holding onto the hatred of another man is like grasping a hot coal and hoping he gets burned.
” He pauses to see if either of us have a reaction, and we don’t.
“All right. No more fighting, gentleman. Because the next time, we’ll be having a very different conversation.
” He heads toward the door. “Goodnight.”
Then he closes it, and he’s gone.
Leaving us alone.
Austin glares at me as if this is all my fault. I make myself busy by unpacking and making my bed. I can feel is eyes on me. Aside from the sound of zippers and the rustling of fabric, it’s dead silent in here. I look over my shoulder at him. “So, what did you do, Hollywood?”
“I didn’t do anything,” he snarls. “This isn’t prison, you idiot.” He gets up with the bloody cloth and goes into the bathroom, slamming the door.
I sit back on the bed, wondering what to do.
I brought magazines, but I don’t feel like doing anything at all.
My head starts to ache. I lie back and press the compress to my eye again.
Austin comes out of the bathroom, tossing the bloody washrag into the laundry basket.
The dried blood is gone, but his nose is swollen and purple, hiding the freckles around it.
He lies down on his bed.
There’s a long period of nothing but silence, except for breathing.
I clear my throat. “I usually take my showers in the morning.”
He doesn’t respond.
“But we can work something out, I guess.” I shift my uncovered eye to him. “And if you wake me up snoring, so help me God, I will smother you in your sleep.”
He stares up at the ceiling. “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to hear you. I don’t even want to look at you. You’re not worth my time.”
The scent of Jovan Musk wafts my way, and the perfect comeback bubbles inside me and almost out of my mouth.
That’s not what you said on New Year’s Eve.
But I leave it. I could add something about the club in New York City.
I’d almost forgotten about it, but somehow, we both ended up there on the same night.
We didn’t really talk, and we didn’t fight.
It was one of the few times we wound up under the same roof but didn’t try to kill each other.
But I remember what happened down in the basement. I’m sure he does too.
There will be plenty of opportunities for insults, though. Plenty of ways to remind him of the times he hates.
I touch my injured eye to feel the swelling has gone down. I get out of the bed and stand up, removing my shirt. “You sleep in the nude, Hollywood?”
He cuts his eyes over to me, his face reddening.
“’Cause I do.” I remove everything but my jocks.
“Jesus Christ,” Austin grumbles, turning his back to me.
I get under the covers to remove them and toss them across the room onto his bed.
“Nighty-night, Hollywood.” I reach for the lamp between our beds and cut it off.
A couple minutes later, his bed creaks and my underwear lands on my face.