The cab driver didn't question him, just assuming that he would be paid at the end of the night. Logan looked like a rich kid, even though he was drinking and yelling at decrepit people on dirty lawns at night.
Logan sat silently in the car trying to figure out what to say to the guy. He hadn't really looked at him when he saw him once before. Everything had been different, the guy hadn't been his father, he had just been some bum.
Logan was still wondering when the cab pulled up to a very small, very dirty dwelling. Logan stepped out and looked disdainfully at the trash piled all around. Old furniture littered the yard. Weeds grew around it and the grass had gone to seed. A smell emanated from all around. It was impossible to pinpoint the source.
Logan was too drunk to feel afraid though as he knocked on the door. It squeaked on its hinges as if barely hanging on.
A voice called roughly from inside "What do you want?"
Logan pounded harder. "Let me in, you bastard."
Finally he heard someone shuffling to the door. The man who appeared looked older than he probably was. He looked about 60, although he couldn't have been older than his late 40s. His dirty blonde hair hung raggedly down in front of his face. He wasn't wearing a shirt. And he too was drunk.
Logan didn't even bother to look closely before he threw wild punch, catching the other man on his chin. The guy staggered backwards, caught himself and put his hand in front of him.
"Whoa, wait a minute. Ain't you that son of mine, the Huntzberger kid?"
Logan took another swing and missed. "You ruined my life. You ruined my moms life. Why?" he spat out, unable to finish the question.
"Look around kid, I needed the money."
Logan swung again, falling down on the grass. Once he fell down the older man tackled him all the way down, holding him. "Now I don't know what you are thinking coming here, but I want to make myself clear, all I wanted was some money. I didn't want a son, and you are old enough to take care of yourself. Now if you throw another punch I'm having you arrested."
Logan struggled and managed to throw the guy off him. His next punch caught his father in the stomach. They staggered to their feet, both angry now, trading punches in the lawn. Finally they stopped when they heard the sirens approaching and knew that the police were on their way. The cab driver had called on his cell phone when he saw the altercation turn violent.
The police put both of them in handcuffs and Logan found himself once again being pushed into the back of a cop car. Except this time he had no one to bail him out.
Logan found himself staring at the phone at the police station, wondering if he would have the nerve to call Rory. He was sure she was going to be angry and he wasn't at all sure that she would come and get him. At least he was more or less sober now.
He picked up the phone and slowly dialed. The phone had barely started to ring when Rory picked it up.
"Hello?" she said. Logan could hear the concern in her voice.
"Rory its me." he said.
"Where are you? I've been worried."
"Okay don't be mad but I'm in jail right now, using my phone call to call you."
"What!" Rory shrieked. "What did you do? God Logan you can't pull these stunts anymore."
"I know. I got drunk and got in a fight with my real father. I'm facing battery charges." Logan had trouble saying it.
"Logan if you are going to just go around and get yourself in trouble then I can't help you. Get yourself out of this one."
Without another word Logan heard the phone click, and then the line go dead.
Rory sat in her apartment fuming. She had a long frustrating day in which she defended Logan to her grandparents and then came home to find out that once again he had fucked up. How could he be so irresponsible?
She sat for a few minutes trying to calm her thoughts. She had no idea what had possessed him to go down and see his father, to fight with him. Everything had been going so well.
Finally, after an hour of thinking and having time to calm down Rory finally got up, grabbed her purse and keys and headed out the door.