A home up in flames.
The night was wearing on, and Henry and Bob had finished their shopping. They bought a little more food, some toiletries, and a bundle of tissue boxes, as they were running low, and Bob had allergies in the summer.
"We got what we need?" asked Henry,
"I think s- oh my god!" Bob pointed forward, to a smokestack. It was in the direction they were heading.
"Is that-" Henry began,
"I really hope not." said Bob. Henry slammed on the pedal, and they shot down the road. They soon arrived, and their worst fears were realized. The Shady Beach Apartment complex, and the parking garage next to it, were up in flames. Bob and Henry leapt from the car after it was parked and ran to it, only to be restrained by firemen.
"It doesn't look like," said one of them, "this is going to be put out until it's all embers. Our hoses haven't even slowed it down." And as if on cue, with a loud crash, and another sound resembling a giant's plate being smashed to bits, the apartment and its sister parking garage, were now rubble and flaming embers. As if the fire had had its fun, the Firemen were able to put it out.
...
Bob sat away from the ruins, alone. He had a feeling this was somewhat his fault, for the man looking for him had connections. Henry came to him.
"I swear," he said into his cellphone, "I'll be out as soon as I find a new place. What? Hold on a minute." He pulled the phone away from his ear, "do you need to stay with me and my brother?" Right after he said that, a huge multicolored bus pulled up. The door opened, and in the driver's seat sat a red headed woman. She wore a green jacket, with a white T-Shirt and a blue skirt.
"Bob," she said, "I came as soon as I found out what happened. I heard your apartment's name on the news and came over. I'm sorry to hear it. Get in, you don't have anyplace to live, and the room and boarding at Foster's is still on the table." Bob tried to decline, but Frankie wouldn't take no for an answer. Finally, Bob said goodbye to Henry, and climbed aboard the bus.
"Wait," said Henry. "before you go, take these." He handed Bob the boxes of tissues, before getting into his car and driving off.
"Did he just steal your car?" asked Frankie,
"No," said Bob, "my car was in the garage." Frankie got out of her seat and hugged him sympathetically.
Bob knew that those who were after him weren't going to give up so easily. When his mangled and burned corpse was not found, and his face not in the obituaries, they'd know they burned the building for nothing, and find him elsewhere.
He knew that him living in Foster's would put everyone in it in the firing line. He contemplated his options. A, live at Foster's and wait for them to find him and make collateral damage of everyone there. And B, try and sneak out, thus saving everyone's butts. He chose the latter. Why should his new found friends suffer when it was him the bad guys were after? The Answer: They shouldn't.
...
The next night, and Bob was ready. This job hadn't given him the restart he needed. They'd found him again, and he was once again back at square one. He snuck down stairs, and reached for the doorknob.
"And where do you think you're going?" asked a voice, which shattered the silence. Bob jumped, and he looked to where the voice had come from. It was Madame Foster.
"I was just-" Bob began, but she cut him off,
"You're not allowed to leave at this time. We have curfew around here. If you break that rule, everyone's going to know." Bob found it hard to believe, and so he turned the knob. Apparently, he wasn't the first to try and sneak out. As soon as he had just barely turned the knob, an extremely loud alarm sounded. He guessed it could wake everyone in the house. But before any angry friends came down, Foster hit a switch, and the sound stopped.
...
The following day, Bob and Frankie went to the park. Madame Foster told them they needed to get some groceries, and they decided to stop here to take a breather.
"So Bob," said Frankie, "why did you try to leave last night?"
"How did you know it was me?"
"Everyone but you," she said, "knows that Madame Foster isn't fond of people sneaking out at bedtime. Now answer the question." Bob was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He wanted to tell Frankie, but wasn't obliged to. Thankfully, he was saved from having to do so. A man with a disfigured face came around to the people in the park. He'd been a war hero, and had been shot in the face several times. Everyone he went to showed their thanks for what he did by giving him money.
Bob and Frankie opened their wallets to him when he came by. When suddenly, a different man came to them. He wore a leather jacket with leather pants to match. Black boots and a mean looking face completed the outfit. It was clear he was up to no good.
"You gave him money," said the man, gravely voice, "now how about some for me."
"Sorry," said Frankie, "I used up my last spare dollar." The man didn't take that sitting down, he forcefully grabbed her arm,
"Give me that damn money," Frankie got equally mad and punched the man in the face.
"Big mistake, bitch." He said, and threw her to the ground. Bob wasn't about to sit and watch this man hurt his friend.
"Hey," He said, standing up, "leave her alone." The man turned from Frankie, who was on the ground in pain.
"You want some of this?" he demanded. Bob answered by raising his fists queensbury rules. The man lunged, but Bob ducked and punched the man in the gut. The man yelped, as he recoiled, which gave Bob time to uppercut him.'
"No more Mr. Nice Guy," Yelled the man as he threw a kick at Bob's head. He grabbed the attacker's foot and held it up, leaving him vulnerable for a punch to the groin. Soon, he had the man reduced to a quivering piece of jelly. He came to Frankie and asked if she was okay.
"Yeah," she said, "just need a minute." Bob helped her to her feet and gently set her on the bench.
"Where did you learn that?" she asked him,
"I box to keep fit," said Bob, "and it has its positive side effects."
"Could you teach me?" she asked him,
"I don't see why not," said the man, "just remember that I can't be held responsible if you get hurt." Frankie agreed, and so when she was okay again, they went back to Foster's.
...
When they returned, Madame Foster was the first they saw, and Frankie was a sight to behold. She had a black eye, bruises all around her face, and a fat lip.
"What happened?!" she asked, bewildered.
"Some guy attacked us," said Frankie, "but Bob fought him off. I asked him to teach me to Box."
"Thank you for helping her." said Foster.
...
They found a room in Foster's with plenty of room to roam, and secluded so no one could accidentally walk in trying to find the bathroom.
"First," said Bob, "I want to see how hard you can punch." He held his hand up and braced himself, and tapped his hand, "picture my hand as something that makes you angry, and strike it." Frankie imagined the man who attacked them just hours ago. She balled her fist, pulled it back, and let it fly. Her hand bounced off of Bob's thumb, and hit him in a different area: His face. He recoiled, cupping his hands over his offended nose.
"Oh my god!" Cried Frankie, "I'm sorry."
"Do you have a lot of built up anger?" he asked her, blood dripping between his fingers. Frankie got him some tissues, and he managed to get the bleeding to stop. "Now that we've gauged how hard you can punch, let's go over the proper stance." Bob moved Frankie's arms and legs as if she was a mannequin in a department store. Her left leg was out in front, her right in the back. Her arms here held up like she was really about to box somebody.
"Put more weight on your back leg," said Bob, "so you can lunge into a punch." After a while, she was in the stance he wanted her in, the same one his teacher put him in. Bob grabbed a foam block, as wide as a car door.
"Let's pretend this is your foe," said Bob, "have at him." Frankie lunged forward, but accidentally kneed herself in the back of her left knee, and started to fall. Bob dropped the foam block and caught her. They stood, toe to toe, hip to hip, breast to chest. They were so close, they could feel their breath on each other's faces. Another awkward moment between them, also accidental.
"Are you okay?" asked Bob.
"I'll live," said Frankie. They eventually pulled away, blushing madly.
A lot has happened in this chapter so I'll cut it here. But now I'm out of ideas. If somebody has one, please send it my way.