He had long ago lost his hat in the scuffle. Well, the scuffle was no longer classified as a scuffle. It was a full-fledge fist fight. His hat lay in the dust near home base, safe now, for the fight had moved back behind the plate.
He was slammed up against the chain link fence, the metal pressing through his thin shirt and into his back. He knew he would have one or two bruises from that. But, that was nothing considering his nose and lip were already bleeding and his cheeks was swelling and his stomach was aching. Still, he was proud to say that his opponents weren't looking too great either. For all his being outnumbered two to one, Peter was still giving them hell.
But now he was pinned against the fence by the taller boy and the other, who was already looking like a damned raccoon with two black eyes, was getting his revenge in making Peter's gut feel like mush. The first time, Peter doubled over in surprise. His head was slammed back up against the fence. The second time, he gritted his teeth and kept himself from groaning. The third time the boy raised his fist, Peter raised his foot and kicked him where it hurt. Simultaneously, he jabbed his elbow hard into the taller boy's ribs, making him loosen his grip just enough to throw another punch and wriggle away.
He fell to the ground, turning over to see both of them turn on him. He quickly crawled backwards, until he grabbed his hat. He then jumped up, put it on and turned it backwards. Now, if he thought he had to run, he at least wasn't cornered behind home plate.
He raised his hands in a peace offering. "Okay," he said. "You've made your point clear: you don't like me. How about we just stop right here?"
"How about you tell us who gave up Christopher Winters' name," said the taller boy.
Peter glared. "Not a chance."
"Then this isn't over," said the other boy, taking a step forward.
Peter hated running away from a fight, but he wasn't an idiot. If it were just one, he'd gladly take them. But two was a bit much, especially when one was larger than him. He took a half-step back and then turned and ran.
They came after him.
It had started out a simple day. He'd gotten up, gone to work at the diner as usual on this Tuesday morning. His parents had gone to work, and Paul left to go pick up Anne. Andrew had gone with him for the ride. After work, Peter had been riding his bike to Jimmy's house. He hadn't seen him since Sunday. That afternoon, after all the reports about their identities and Christopher Winters had come out, the four boys had decided that they would never tell who had identified Winters. Peter was gratified for this. They could at least take the heat together. Already, on Monday he had been regarded differently at the diner. Most wondered how anyone could have made such an accusation. Most people were very fond of the Judge, and didn't want to see his chances for a Supreme Court spit get harmed like this. But if anyone asked about details, the boys decided that their reply would always be: "Just read the papers."
Peter hadn't seen Jimmy since Sunday afternoon. Monday he had gone off to his own job in the morning and in the afternoon he and Paul went up toAnne's horseshow. Anne's extracurricular activity was show jumping. Their grandparents—Marie's parents—owned a few horses and partially funded their granddaughter's delight in it. She was escalating in her talents. The boys had ridden horses as well, but never in showmanship; just for fun at their grandparents' house further upstate.
So, he had been on his way to Jimmy's house when he had been blindsided off his bike. They hadn't been able to get him still enough on the street and he had made a break for it, only to be cornered on the baseball field. Now, he was making a break for his bike, hoping that he could just pedal away from them.
He got back to his bike, and got a running start to it. He looked back, happy to see them pull up from their run after they saw that he was too far away to give chase. He smiled but kept pedaling like hell until he was a few blocks away.
When he came up to Jimmy's house, he hid his bike away in the backyard. Jimmy's three younger siblings, ranging from the ages 12-6, were back there, playing with their friends. Jimmy's mother was a stay-at-home mom and his dad worked for the Postal Service, which was how Peter's mother had gotten her job sorting through mail. Connections were always nice.
Peter went through the back door as if he lived in the house. Jimmy did the same in his own home. He heard Jimmy's mother in the kitchen, making lunch for her kids. But he dodged her by going through the den and down the hall to Jimmy's room, where he had been holed up after breaking his leg.
Jimmy was in bed, leg propped up on pillows, reading a Sports Illustrated. He put the magazine down when he heard the door open. His jaw dropped and he sat up quickly.
"Shit, Peter, what did you get in to," he exclaimed.
Peter shut the door behind him. "Be quiet. I don't want your mom to see me before I get cleaned up."
Jimmy grabbed a towel from off the ground and tossed it to him. Jimmy had bathroom connected to the room he and his two younger brothers shared. Jimmy had his own bed on one side of the room and a bunk bed on the other. The room was littered with the three boys' belongings and Peter carefully stepped over them to get to the bathroom. He turned the light on and grimaced at his own reflection.
He washed his face and cleaned the cuts. There was more blood than he had originally realized. When he was thru, he gently touched his tender cheek and bit back a groan. Yeah, he'd be hurting in a few days. It didn't look bad yet, but he knew that tomorrow morning he'd be feeling it. He walked out the bathroom.
"You need something cold on that cheek of yours," he said. "Besides the busted lip, it just look like you ran into something."
"You think I could say I just fell down," asked Peter. "I could say I fell off my bike."
Jimmy studied him. "Except everyone know what a punched cheek looks like. You won't be able to get by with that."
As if on cue, the door opened up and Jimmy's mother came in with a sandwich.
"Oh, hey Peter—" gasp "—Peter, who did you get in a fight with?"
Jimmy gave Peter an 'I-told-you-so' look, and Peter sighed. "Don't worry about it, Mrs. Levi."
"He just needs something cold for it, Mom," said Jimmy.
"Of course," she exclaimed. "I'll be right back." She quickly returned with some meat in a paper towel and another sandwich. He thanked her and sat down on the bottom bunk across the room from Jimmy.
He set the sandwich aside. "I don't think I could eat right now. You think you could eat it so I don't hurt her feelings?"
"I'm sure it wouldn't hurt her feelings," said Jimmy. "But sure; I'll eat it."
Peter smiled as he put the cold meat against his swelling cheek. He grimaced some.
"So, who was it," asked Jimmy.
"Harrison and Kendall," replied Peter sourly. "I never really liked them anyway, but now I hate them."
"Wait a minute," said Jimmy. "You got attacked?"
"I got thrown off my bike," exclaimed Peter. He quickly described everything to him.
"At least they'll be hurting tonight too," said Jimmy. "Gee, I knew you guys didn't see eye to eye, but I never thought they'd come rough you up just to find out who identified those men."
Peter shrugged. "Think about what they would've done if they'd known it was me."
Jimmy nodded and added softly. "You know they're always hanging out with Mark, right?"
Peter nodded. "Yeah."
"You seen him around?"
"Saw him downtown yesterday, when I went by the post office. He was mailing something off. I said hello, but he just stared at me and watched me go by. I don' know, it's not our fault his father has a friend like Christopher Winters." He shrugged. "I don't really care. He's graduated; we're not on the same team anymore. And summer ball starts up next week. Once that gets going, everything will go back to normal."
"You think?"
"Sure, why not? It'll all blow over and everyone will be thick as thieves in a few days."
"Until we have to testify."
Peter set the meat down. "Why'd you have to remind me?"
"Well, don't these things usually take forever to get through the courts anyway?"
"I dunno."
They fell into comfortable silence.
"Look, how about you help me up and we can go sit out underneath the carport," said Jimmy. "I'm about to die if I don't get a breath of fresh air."
Peter smiled. "Sure."
He helped his friend up, handed him the crutches and they went outside with their lunch. Jimmy's mom brought out some lemonade and said nothing at Peter's untouched sandwich. Jimmy sat down and finished up the food while Peter occupied himself on fixing up Jimmy's bike. Their talk went away from current problems and back to baseball as they discussed nearly every game that had been played that past weekend. After Peter finished up with the bike, they played catch, with Jimmy sitting back in a lawn chair with his leg up on an ice chest.
It was around that time that Paul and Andrew rode up on their bikes. Peter pulled his hat down low, hoping they wouldn't notice anything. And they didn't, right away. It wasn't until Jimmy's mother came out with more lemonade and she took the frozen meat back inside that they noticed something. Paul pulled Peter's cap off his head.
"What the hell?"
"It's nothing, Paul. I just got into an argument with someone."
"Who?"
"Harrison and Kendall," Peter said.
"Those two again," asked Paul. Everyone knew that they and Peter didn't really get along. But never before had they gotten into a fight. Paul was quick though. He knew they were close friends of Mark Bardwell. "Was it about Winters?"
"They just wanted to know who identified them," confessed Peter.
"Did you tell 'em?"
"No! Do you think I have some kind of death wish? Look, don't worry about it. They're going home with a few aches too, and if you don't mind, I'd like to forget about it for now. Let's just play some ball."
Paul reluctantly took up his glove.
If Peter had feared his brother finding out, he was much more reluctant to letting their parents seeing him. But that was also inevitable, for they had dinner together that night. Peter and Paul came to the table, Peter keeping his head down. But quickly enough, his father's fingers slipped underneath his chin and raised his head up.
Marie gasped, and Peter raised a hand. "Don't worry about it Mom. There's nothing you can do about it. Besides, I've gotten hit in the face before."
"I knew this would happen eventually," said John.
"I won't tell you did it," said Peter quickly. "It's between me and them."
"No, Peter," said Paul. "It's between you, me, Andrew, Jimmy and them. We'll get them back."
"You will do no such thing," said John. The boys looked at their father. "You will not enact revenge on them. It isn't worth it and someone eventually could get seriously injured."
"So, we're supposed to ignore it," asked Peter.
"You fight to defend yourself, but otherwise, be the better man," said John. "Don't stoop down to their level. Understand?"
"Yessir," replied the boys.
Marie said the grace and then Anne started chattering about her weekend upstate and her horseshow. The dinner went on nicely.
The week went by and on Saturday morning, Lt. Cooper came back to the Burke residence. He came by in the morning, and it was a rare day that Marie and John were off. Marie let him into the house and he introduced himself; the children had already told their parents of him.
"I just need to talk to your sons," he said. "If they're around."
"They're out back," replied Marie. "Here, I'll take you to them."
She led him out onto the back porch, where John was in his rocking chair, reading the paper. Anne was laying on her stomach, playing with a kitten she had found on the roadside the previous day. She looked up and smiled at Cooper.
"Hey, Lt.," she said.
John looked up. He stood up, taking his reading glasses off and setting them in his shirt pocket. He shook Cooper's hand.
"Hello, I'm John," he said.
"Yessir," said Cooper. "I just need a word with your sons regarding the trial."
"A date has been set," asked Marie.
"Yes ma'am," replied Cooper. "June 25th; two Mondays from now." He looked out to the yard where Peter was practicing his pitches. "You've got quite the pair of athletes there."
"They're good boys," said John. "Anne, go get your brothers for us. And don't yell for them; just go get them."
Anne set aside the kitten, who went and mingled with German Shepherds who were lying down under the porch swing. They raised their eyebrows at it and whimpered as it lazily walked by.
The boys came back with Anne, swiping off their caps as they walked onto the porch. Cooper narrowed his eyes at Peter's face.
"I heard about that," he said.
"How," asked Peter.
"One of the officers was at that diner you work out," answered Cooper. "He told me about it."
Peter nodded. "It's nothing."
Cooper gave him a look like 'yeah right' and then looked at Paul. "And I know that you and Andrew got in scuffle with two other boys." Everyone looked at Paul who glared at Cooper as if he had ratted him out. "Another one of my officers saw it, but let it slide when he saw that no one got hurt."
"What, you got officers watching us all over town," asked Paul indignantly.
"Paul, watch your tone," scolded Marie.
"I do, son," said Cooper. "Because I don't want my witnesses getting hurt. Now, the trial is on the 25th. Can I trust all four of you to mind your own business and keep yourselves intact till then?"
The boys hesitated but with one look at their father they quickly said, "Yessir."
"Good," said Cooper. "Now, have a good day. Mr. and Mrs. Burke, it was nice to meet you."
"Thank you, Lt.," said Marie.
John and Cooper shook hands and the Lt. left, walking around the house to the front. When he was out of sight, Peter turned on his brother.
"Who was it?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Who did you and Andrew go after?"
"Don't worry about it."
Peter looked at their parents, but the two had decided this was between them. He pushed his brother in the chest. "Don't worry about it, huh? Look, I'll find out sooner or later."
Anne decided to ditch the porch at that moment, taking the kitten with her.
"Listen, it doesn't concern you," said Paul. He started to turn around.
But Peter grabbed his arm and spun him back. "It does concern me. If it concerns even just one of us, it concerns all four of us! Now, who was it?"
"Harrison and Kendall," replied Paul softly.
Peter let go of his brother. "Really?" His voice was tainted with sarcasm. "What's up with that?"
"I just told 'em to lay off my younger brother," said Paul.
"I can take care of myself," said Peter.
"Right," remarked Paul with a small chuckle. He gestured to Peter's face. "I can tell."
Peter exhaled. "But don't you remember: we have to be the better man."
Paul locked his jaw, and sighed. "You're right."
"I am," asked Peter, surprised that his brother had given in so easily.
Paul laughed and clapped his brother on the shoulder. "Okay. Let's go find Jimmy and Andrew. We need to have a talk."
Later, they sat under Jimmy's carport, gathered around with lemonade.
"Here's the deal," said Paul. "Obviously, some people don't agree with what we've done. So, we stick together. No one goes anywhere without at least someone else from this group. It doesn't matter where you go. If you're not with your family, don't do it. There are enough people around that we don't know what could happen."
"Sounds like a deal," said Andrew.
()()()()()()
"Aww, big brother was watching out for you," said Neal.
They had moved to the sofa by now, taking a break from the beer. The last time they had done this they had had quite the headache the following morning.
Peter rolled his eyes. "But that was a foolish move. It didn't help anybody. If anything, it just made them angrier. You know what I said about revenge…"
"Yeah, I see where you got it," said Neal. "Actually, I'm beginning to see a lot here. Some of the things you tell me, this is where you learned them."
"I people really looking out for me back then," said Peter. "Even if I didn't appreciate it as much as I should have at the time."
Neal nodded. "Well, I'd like to let you know that I appreciate the people who are watching out for me right now."
Peter nodded and there was a somewhat awkward silence that followed. Satchmo wandered into the den, wondering why they were still up at such an hour. Neal bent over to pet him.
"So, was everything quiet until the trial?"
"Definitely not," said Peter. "Mark got into it later. And that's when everything jumped up a notch."
"What do you mean?"
"Well…" Peter picked up the album from the coffee table and flipped the page. "As you can see, the shit really began to hit the fan here."
Neal read the headline: Brawl At Baseball Game; Peter Burke Identified Christopher Winters.