I had never given much tought to being mugged before. I've lived in New York all my life. I knew all the crime statistics, heard all the news reports, saw the headlines in the paper, everything. None of that had ever detured me from taking the back allies and side streets. Even with the broken security lights, I always felt safe. Nothing had ever happened to me; nor anyone I knew even. That gave me confidence.
However, standing there, face to face with a trio of skinheads, my confidence wanned. I began to wish I had paid more attention to my brother when he was showing me how to defend myself. Tony was a boxer. Professional. He had his own studio on the east side. He was so good.
And here I was, his baby sister, unable to defend myself aginst three low-life thugs. Pathedic.
The one in the middle, the biggest one, was probably six-four and twice my weight. He was the alph-male. The other two were shorter but still bigger than me. I wouldn't be able to take a one of them. Especially since I had left my pepper spray in my purse and my purse at home. Just like I always did when I went to the library.
The guys approached me and I tried to walk passed. The big one put his hand up to stop me.
"Whoa, hold on there, darlin." His breath stank with burbon.
"I don't have any money," I said through dry lips. My voice was shakey and scared.
The guys laughed. It was mocking and frightening. I lowered my eyes, not looking at anyones face.
"Who said we wanted your money?" the one on the left ask. His tone was smooth, at ease. It made me even more nervous.
The one on the right put a hand on my shoulder. "We just wanna talk."
I cringed away from his hand. "Don't touch me," I ordered with no authority to my voice.
The big guy stroked my hair and I tried to back up, but they had me circled. The other two held me from behind as Big Guy stepped closer. I turned my head away.
"Don't be like that," he whispered.
I was working up my courage to scream when the ally lit up. A single light sped toward us from the mouth of the ally accompanied by a loud roaring engine. The bike swerved, back tire squealing as it swung forward, and halted a few feet in front of me. With the headlight turned I could see the figure dismount and stride upto our group. The person was wearing what looked like a gray astonaught suit and biker helment.
I went into full panic mode thinking this was one of their friends. I struggled aginst the hands holding me, surprised when they let me go. I wanted to run but seemed to be frozen in place. The thugs had loosened thier ranks and were all facing the newcomer with somthing like irritated amusment.
"Sorry to break up the party," it - he - said in a deep Brox accent, "but it don't look like the lady's havin' a very good time. Why don't ya guys let er go home."
The thugs smiled. It looked like they were geared for a fight and I didn't want to be in the middle of it. Yet my legs wouldn't listen when my brain told them to move.
"Nobody invited you, punk" Lefty retorted.
"The girls with us," Righty chimed in.
Big guys stepped forward menicingly. "Get back on your bike and take off... and there won't be any trouble."
There was a glint of moonlight on metal as the three skinheads pulled out knives.
The biker didn't move. I was kind of awed by his courage. He was no bigger than me and alone, yet he seemed ready to take on three skinheads who clearly had the advantage. He was either a prdogy or an idiot. I decided he was an idiot after his response.
"This is gonna be fun." And it sounded like he laughed.
Biker guy drew weapons of his own. I recognized them as sai because of how much Tony loves The Matrix movies. By the way he carried and moved them I could tell he had great skill. Somewhere in the safe back part of my mind I wondered if he was some kind of hero.
I couldn't tell you what happened during the fight. It was over so quickly. But I remember thinking Biker could put Tony to shame in a heartbeat. He was that fast. The thugs feel with loud thuds and two got up and ran away. Big Guy waited a minute longer then grudgingly retreated calling out threats of revenge behind him.
"Get outta here ya punk," Biker called after him as he put his sai away. Then his attention turned toward me and he closed the distance between us with a relaxed stride.
"Hey, you okay?" he ask me.
I nodded, not knowing what to say.
The biker pointed a finger at me and I noticed his gloves only allowed for three fingers, not five. "Ya know ya really shouldn't walk these back allies after dark. You could get yerself hurt."
My fear was fading. Fascination was taking it's place. "Who are you?" I blurted out.
"You can call me the Nightwatcher," he answered. "You got a name?"
I contemplated the term nightwatcher finding it oddly funny. I hid my laughter with a quick grin. "Josie."
He seemed to consider this for a minute. "Nice ta meet ya, Josie. You should probably get yerself home now. You live far?"
I shook my head. "Just a few blocks." I indicated the direction of my apartment.
The Nightwatcher looked around. "Why don't ya let me give ya a ride?" he offered. "I'd hate it if sumthin else happened to ya."
I hesitated. Even though he had just helped me out, I still wasn't sure if I could trust him. I couldn't see his face and he wouldn't even tell me his real name. As a basis for trust, that didn't go very far. I was fairly certain he wouldn't hurt me, but not completely sure I should accept a ride from him. And I wasn't sure I wanted him to know where I lived either.
Nightwatcher must have noticed my deliberation. "What? Yer not afraid of me, are ya?" He laughed.
It wasn't an overly comforting laugh, but it did make me feel a little silly so I said it would be okay if he gave me a ride. My brother was a big fan of motorcycles so I was able to appriciate the beauty of Nightwatcher's.
"Nice bike," I said as I climbed on behind him. Whatever kind of pack he was wearing was
wearing was hard and I had a hard time reaching around it to get a good grip.
"Thanks," he grunted. "Make sure ya hold on tight, 'kay?" The motorcycle shuddered and gave a deafening roar as Nightwatcher started then reved the engine. "Where we goin?"
I had to yell to be heard over the motorcycle. "The apartment complex on 48th."
The bike jerked violently as Nightwatcher took off. I griped him tighter as the machine threatened to throw me off. I remembered to lean gradually with each turn so as not to make it harder for him to steer. Though I couldn't drive a motorcycle well, I did enjoy riding. It gave a certain sence of freedom. I began to miss that Tony never had the time to take me for rides on his Harley anymore. Thinking thus, I found myself sad when Nightwatcher pulled into the parking. The ride was too short that I didn't even have enough time to really enjoy it.
Nightwatcher let the bike idle and planted his feet on either side to hold it upright. I dimounted and faced him. My legs felt a little wobbly from the vibrations of the engine. I stared at him for a minute nervously fiddling with the strap of my tote. What was proper etiquette for thanking someone for saving your life?
"Thanks," I finally said.
"Yeah," Nightwatcher replied. "Just take care a yerself, right?"
The monstrosity roared agin as he took off across the lot and down the street. I watched where he disapperared for a while replaying the nights events in my head. I came to the conclusion that I was lucky....and there was no way I was going to tell Tony what had happened that night.
I guess you could say the Nightwatcher changed my life. After that I began to keep a scrapbook of his vigilantism, and take boxing more seriously.
But the real change came about a year later when I met Nightwatcher agin. Only then he wasn't Nightwatcher, he was Raphael.