He turned the lock with his key, and pushed open the front door. It was still dark inside, so he flipped on the light switch. He made his way to the refrigerator in the kitchen, opened its door and stood staring at its contents. He wasn't even hungry. Eating felt routine at the moment. And routine felt suitable – considering. He shut his eyes and cursed repeatedly under his breath. Max was right. It was a stupid idea – challenging Hartly like he did. But like all stupid ideas, it had seemed very appropriate at the time.

'Aidan?' spoke a voice from behind him.

Aidan spun around, surprised. 'Dad!' he exclaimed. 'You're home?'

'Didn't go to work today,' he muttered.

'Why not?' said Aidan as he pulled a carton of milk out and started drinking from it. He remembered how his mother used to smack him playfully for doing it – bad hygiene, she had said. But she wasn't around to say it anymore, and there would never be any protests from good old dad, thought Aidan. He winced with guilt after this thought – give the old man a chance, he tried to tell himself.

'I've never taken a sick day off. Never took any leave. They said I ought to...so I did.' was his father's matter-of-fact explanation.

Aidan nodded and took his drink into the living room and cut the conversation short by doing so. Heck, they were never that interesting anyway. But out of the corner of his eye, Aidan noticed his father grab a bottle of apple cider and follow him into the living room. Aidan said nothing despite growing agitation. Instead he reached for the remote control and turned the television on.

'Getting to be like a regular bachelor pad, huh?' said Aidan's father as he made space for his bottled drink by pushing a stack of papers to the corner of the coffee table.

Aidan didn't reply. It looked as if it was going to be one of those days when his father suddenly took it upon himself to try and right everything that had gone wrong in the past seven years. Not that it was the old man's fault, but he had admitted it – several times over – that time would never heal their wounds. So why was he trying if it was too late? Was he simply bored and looking to Aidan to catch up on seven lost years of his life?

Aidan stared at the television pretending to be engrossed in the evening special. Maybe if he didn't say anything, his father would just leave him alone.

'Man, I remember Molly Ringwald,' spoke his father, looking at the television, 'Where is she now? Fame one day and gone tomorrow, huh. You know-'

'Is there something on your mind, Dad? I mean, instead of taking the longer route, let's just cut to the chase and you ask me what you wanna ask me.' snapped Aidan. He didn't mean to, but right now the pressures from school, the tension at home and the upcoming fight which Aidan felt extremely nervous about quickened his already short temper.

'Well actually, I just wanted to initiate conversation. It seems like we hardly talk anymore.' replied his father, slightly hurt.

'Bullshit, Dad!'

'Watch your mouth!'

'Oh so now you suddenly care about my language use huh?'

'I just want to talk,'

'You want to talk? Okay...let's talk.' Aidan turned off the television with the remote and then flung it down onto the couch angrily. 'Let's talk about how you do this every five months. How you go around with your work and your own concerns pretending like I'm just a bloody tenant in your home. Let's talk about how you forget pay my school tuition fees, how you forget everything until suddenly an idea pops into your head that you wanna make up for lost time. You think it's that simple?' Aidan chuckled sarcastically. 'That you can say to me, "Son, let's forget the last seven years ever happened. Let's be a family again." It isn't that simple!' he yelled.

'Aidan, I never-' began his father.

'I'm not finished.' he stood up and looked down at his father with contempt. 'I waited and I waited for you start being a father to me, but I'm sick of it. I'm tired of waiting. And while you were busy mourning for someone who isn't even dead – seven years flew by. Seven fucking years. Do you even know what has happened to me during that time? No, huh?' His father couldn't face him, he stared down at the floor. 'Well I can tell you exactly what you did during those seven years. Because I remember. I remember everything. You started developing this new habit of waking up early – like mom used to. You started eating a new brand of cereal. You worked from nine to eleven p.m. and when you get home, you mix yourself a diluted scotch with ice shavings. You don't wear blue anymore – you prefer black or grey. You started taking long walks in the morning timing yourself with a stopwatch. You have this co-worker friend – Jack Munroe – who you like to spend Saturday evenings with. And you guys mainly play rummy or poker. Every Saturday night you come home thirty dollars short from the money you lost. But you don't give a shit because you say it's only money and money isn't everything. There are other things to life, aren't there dad? Like your family. Can you tell me anything about your family? Can you tell me what I've done these past seven – no, let's make it simple – these past two years?'

'You started senior high school...'

'When's my graduation? Who's my best friend?'

His father's face fell. He couldn't answer.

'I thought so.' said Aidan. He turned his back to his father and walked away. 'Now, I'm finished.'

                                                             _____________________________________

He lay on his bed with the lights out, watching the shadows of the trees against the streetlamp outside make patterns against his wall. One shadow looked like a large horned monster perched on a ledge, waiting quietly for its victim to stumble by. Then the leaves shifted slightly, and it appeared as if the shadow's creature leapt off the ledge and had run off into the darkness. Aidan bit his lip. He was sick of always trying to hold fast to his beliefs, his morals. Why couldn't he play the monster for once? What was stopping him?

He jerked up by a rapping on the window at the foot of his bed. It was Max.

Aidan crawled over to the window and opened it. Max squeezed his way through the narrow opening, grumbling.

'I think it's time you get this darned window fixed. If I grow any bigger, I won't be able to fit through!' said Max, complaining.

'Why the heck can't you just use the front door instead?'

Aidan felt Max grin in the dark. 'Because that wouldn't be as exciting. I live to walk on the wilderness that is danger itself!'

Aidan shook his head; they'd had this conversation before. But this time around, he didn't feel up to the argument. 'Speaking of danger – I do believe I have an appointment with it in half an hour.' He turned to look at the glowing red digital numbers on his alarm clock. As if to remind him that time wasn't waiting – the minute digit suddenly changed from thirty to thirty-one. 'Make that twenty-nine minutes.' spoke Aidan.

'Relax old buddy. I'm here to convince you not to throw away your life so recklessly.'

Aidan raised his eyebrows as Max continued. 'There's a seventy percent chance of rain tonight.'

Aidan ignored his joke, and spoke with a mixture of anger and worry in his voice. 'Are you nuts?! Do you have any idea what Alan Hartly's gonna do to me if I don't keep my word?'

Max's tone softened. 'Yeah, I know but I figured that you should at least hear me out. Alan fights dirty, Aidan. He doesn't lay any ground rules because in his world there aren't any. If you go out there, I just want to make sure you know what you're getting into.'

Aidan pulled out his sneakers from beneath his bed and began putting them on. 'Well...maybe there won't be any fight. Maybe it'll just be a heated exchange of words.'

'And maybe I could be Dian Fossey.' quipped Max. 'It's not going to happen.'

Aidan didn't reply. He stood up, walked to the door, placed his hand on the door knob and then turned towards Max. 'People like that – there has to be a line where they learn that they can't get away with everything. Today it was Lomax, tomorrow it could be some other kid. Listen, I know what I'm doing...'

'Do you?' asked Max. 'Do either of us?' he said again as stood up and walked up to Aidan.

'What do you mean...?'

Max shook his head from side to side, and appeared as if he'd just been convinced to do something he would rather not do. 'It means, you dumbass, that I'm just as crazy as you are... Aw, don't think you can talk me out of it by dishing out this holy shmoly grub. If I couldn't convince you to not fight Hartly, then you can bet your ass that you can't convince me either. Now let's get moving. We got a date with destiny. And she ain't pretty.'

                                                                       __________________________________

It took them ten minutes that seemed to drag on for ten hours to walk to the parking lot of the old hardware store. On the way there, small drops of rain had begun to descend, that became larger and more frequent in number as the minutes went by. By the time they reached their destination, it was coming down hard and the two boys felt the dread intensify as quickly as the rain did. There was no one there yet. They both stood in silence for about two minutes before Aidan, who couldn't stand it anymore, spoke.

'I need to put my glasses away. Where's a safe place?'

Max looked at him as if he were mad. 'You cannot see well without your glasses. You're going to fight. In the pouring rain – which in itself provides you with increased lower visibility and you're asking me to pull out a cabinet out of nowhere to put your glasses in?' He rolled his eyes.

'It's dangerous. I could get glass in my eye or something.' Aidan tried to explain.

'Oh yes. And that's our only true concern here in paradise.' Max looked about him for any sign of Hartly and his buddies. He was growing increasingly agitated by the minute.

'I don't need my glasses to see, Max. All I need to know is where Hartly is. I just need to hear his voice.' muttered Aidan.

'You inspire courage in the hearts of us all, fearless leader.'

'Oh would you stop it. Isn't it enough that we have to fight these guys without having to nick each other up?'

Max shuffled from foot to foot in anxiousness. 'Sorry man, it's just the weather. Just the weather bringing me down. I didn't mean any of it.' He held out his hand. 'Here, gimme your glasses, I can stuff it in my oversized pocket.'

Max had just pocketed the glasses when they saw the glittering sign of headlights piercing through the rain like two angry eyes. It belonged to a jeep that turned into the parking lot, and screeched to a halt. Aidan and Max could hear the sound of car doors opening and slamming shut. And through the rain, out walked three indistinct figures. But neither of the two boys needed to have telepathic abilities to tell who the figures were.

'May Lord have mercy on our souls tonight...' Max spoke under his breath.

Aidan shot him a look and then turned his attention to the approaching figures. 'What's the matter Alan? Thought you couldn't handle me alone, so you had to bring your personal bodyguards with you?' yelled out Aidan.

Max held his hand out stiffly in warning and spoke quietly to Aidan. 'Do you want to personally hammer the nails into our coffins?'

'No, pretty boy...I just brought a couple folks along to clean up the mess after I'm through with you.' said Hartly in response to Aidan.

Max quickly spoke up again – he didn't think they'd have much of a chance to once the fight began. 'Fight dirty, Aidan. Take the first punch.'

Aidan nodded in his direction and the two boys fanned out to meet their opponents.

'I see that you've got your trusty sidekick, Robin, with you.' said Hartly, smiling as he approached Aidan. And then he turned to his two friends. 'Franco's mine. Just make sure Max doesn't cause too much trouble.'

Max tensed, and didn't move. He wasn't sure which was better. Handling these two men who looked as if they hadn't fought in days and had missed the thrill of it, or facing Hartly himself. He figured that he didn't have much of a choice at this point. He ducked as a fisted arm swung through the air whizzing past his head. Max quickly managed to grab it, and hold on to it as he threw in a punch to its owner's stomach. Score one to Maximillian! But he didn't have much time to revel in his pride – pretty soon he felt another arm come up around him and lock onto his neck – just underneath his chin. He squirmed in vain for a few minutes before he felt something sting the side of his cheek bone. He saw an intense bright flash for a second before opening his eyes again. He managed to turn his head a fraction of an inch to search for Aidan. He hoped he was faring better than he was.

Aidan felt the taste of warm blood flood his mouth. He lashed out at Hartly and hit nothing but air as the other boy dodged to his right. Hartly then took the advantage of those few seconds of time to slam his body – head first – into Aidan's stomach, knocking him to the ground. Aidan let out a small yell as he felt the breath get knocked out of him. He tried to lift himself up, but Hartly was on top of him, pinning him down with his weight. Aidan attempted to lift up his head but it slammed back down onto the concrete as Hartly hit him with his curled fist on the side of his eye. Aidan clenched his teeth in pain and tried to get out from underneath the bigger boy. He raised his knee and shoved it into Hartly's stomach who let out a yell of pain. But try as he might, Aidan couldn't get out from under Hartly – the older boy was much too heavy. And it seemed as if he was trained for this type of thing. Aidan breathed in deeply and tried to focus every ounce of energy – every bit of strength – into getting some distance in between the two of them. He reached out for Hartly's face and began to push it up, further away from his own. He shut his eyes and felt his head tingle slightly. At first, Aidan grew alarmed – he thought he was getting light-headed because less oxygen was reaching his brain. But seconds later, he began to feel good – almost improving – just like he'd felt when he'd arm-wrestled Joe-Joe a few weeks ago. He finally opened his eyes when he felt no resistance from his opponent and looked to see Hartly's face, his eyelids, flutter in the dim glow of the neon streetlight. Hartly's arms hung limply by his sides and the only thing keeping him from falling completely on top of Aidan was Aidan's arm – holding the boy's head at bay.

Part of him told him to let go, but something inside that gave him this immensely strong feeling wanted for it to go on until it was completely over. Aidan suddenly felt sick. This feeling – it wasn't part of him. He immediately took this opportunity to roll Hartly off of him – before any more damage could be done. He sat up, as blood mixed with rain ran down his neck and got soaked up into his jacket. He then quickly remembered Max. He saw him kicking and lashing out wildly at the two boys – one was holding him down as the other was throwing punches at him without hesitation.

'-et him go!' began Aidan – but his voice felt weak. He tried again. 'YOU LET HIM GO!'

Max's two attackers turned to Aidan, and it took them a second to register that Hartly was no longer standing up. He was lying face down on the concrete.

'YOU HEARD WHAT I SAID? If you don't leave him alone, I'm gonna do to you what I did to your pal!' repeated Aidan.

The first boy immediately released Max and ran up to Hartly. Max slumped to the ground and stood watching through a puffy eye, as his attacker turned Hartly over and inspected him. 'You fucking killed him, man! You killed him!' shouted the boy, panic beginning to sink in.

'I didn't kill him.' said Aidan.

'Well he ain't moving!'

'I didn't kill him.' repeated Aidan.

'How the hell do you know?!' screeched the boy.

'I know.' replied Aidan quietly. 'He's not dead. Check his pulse.' He stood still as the rain pelted down, watching as the other boy bent down and felt Hartly's wrist.

Max struggled to his feet and walked up to Aidan's side. He knew, better than anyone, what had happened. But he didn't know how far Aidan had taken it this time. 'Is he...?'

'No,' spoke Hartly's friend. 'He's still alive. He's-' he paused suddenly as the sound of approaching sirens filtered through the air, growing less faint with each passing moment. He then quickly got up to his feet and spoke hurriedly – not to anyone in particular. 'Forget this, I'm outta here.'

Aidan and Max then watched in silence as the two boys darted back into Hartly's jeep, shoved the vehicle into reverse and drove out of the parking lot as if the devil himself was after them.

'I'm not running, Max. Max...?' spoke Aidan, as he widened his eyes in fear, turning to his friend.

'Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere.'