"Y'don't drink, y'don't smoke, I know that, what the fuck do you do?", he said, rummaging in the cupboard. I narrowed my eyes, thankful he couldn't see me. "I read. I hang around with those guys you call pussies..."
"Mmmm." He was still searching for something in the cupboard, and didn't respond to my answer. "Here ya go." He hopped off the counter, and tossed me a bottle. What do you know? It was the promised Tylenol. No gun in sight. I unscrewed the cap, and poured three into my hand. Ace raised his eyebrow. "Don't take too many of those," he warned. "You'll go goofy." I shrugged. "At least it'll stop hurting." I gave him a pointed look, and he took the hint. He handed me his half-drunk bottle. "To swallow the pills down. You don't want to choke, d'ya?" This time he gave me a pointed look. I rolled my eyes, put the chalky pills in my mouth, and took a swig of beer. It tasted like muddy water sliding down the back of my throat. Making a face, I handed it back to him. "Ugh. How can you drink that stuff? It tastes like shit." He shrugged. "Fuck do I know? Gives me something to do, don't it?"
I stopped short of laughing. "You're serious? You just drink for 'something to do'? You don't even like the stuff?" He put the bottle on the table, and leaned forward, just enough so I could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Yeah. Gotta problem with that?" I shook my head. "No way, man. You can drink whatever the hell you want. Just asking." His clunky black boots were toe-to-toe with my dirty tennis sneakers. "Well, here's a thought. Don't ask." I sighed. "If I ask you something right now, will you swear not to...to..." He eyeballed me. "Beat the shit outta you?" "Yeah," I said, playing with the top of the Tylenol bottle.
He nodded my way. "Go 'head. But believe me when I say, I'll let you know when you've gone too far." "Don't I know it," I said, and sat up straighter in my chair. The Tylenol was starting to kick in, probably giving me more confidence that I had than before I'd taken it. "Why did you do this to me," I asked, pointing to my head, and almost immediately cringed, praying that Ace wouldn't slug me again.
He took the last swig of beer, and tossed it into the garbage tin that was next to the door. Two points for Ace; it went straight in. "You wanna know why," he asked. He gave me a wary look, as if almost afraid I'd go running to tell Chris, Gordie, and Vern what he was about to tell me. "Y'know I don't even got no father here, right? It's just me and Ma." He stood up for a second, and then sat back down heavily. He seemed more nervous than a cat about to be attacked by a bulldog. "I didn't know that, Ace," I said quietly. "Is your father... is he...," I couldn't bring myself to say the word. I knew he'd pound me.
"He ain't dead," he growled, making the hair on my neck stand up again. "The bastard fucking left. When I was..." Ace stopped. He looked at me. "Why the fuck am I telling you this, anyway," he muttered. He went back over to the fridge, yanked open the door, and grabbed another Coors.
"And him leaving made you so pissed off, that you beat up everything that walks," I concluded, still cringing. Ace's mouth dropped open, more than likely about to deny what I'd said, but what he did say shocked me. "Yeah. I guess that's fucking why." He finished more than half of his second beer in the first go, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "So what, are you gonna tell your pussy friends on me, now? Or even Billy and Charlie?" I was sort of surprised that even his cronies didn't know this about him. "You mean, I'm the first person you've told? No one else knows?"
He gave me an angry stare. "Yes. Everyone else in this fuckin' town thinks the bastard's dead, and I like it that way. So don't go thinkin' you're Queen Bee just 'cause I told you my soap story." He threw his empty bottle into the sink, where it crashed into a million tiny pieces.
"I won't. I-I'm kind of glad you told me, though," I said. I stood up from my chair. "Thanks for the Tylenol, Ace. I think I'm gonna head back home. Is that okay?" He stood by the sink, staring out the window above it, completely lost in thought. "Okay," I said, and quietly left out the back door.