Chapter 5

The bad thing about being lucky is that sometimes your luck changes. Wednesday after school the twins detoured us by one of the big malls. They needed a few things and I took them by and waited for them out near the food court.

Brent Jefferson was pissed. Until last Thursday he'd thought he was on top of the world. He was the All State quarterback. He had secured a football scholarship to the state's top university. His girlfriend was beautiful and sexy and she was the Homecoming Queen; then on Thursday she dumped him, gave him the brown helmet, shit on his head, all for a date with some rich kid who wasn't even in high school. The All State quarterback, super football stud, had been dumped for an eighth grade kid, just because he had a fancy car. Brent Jefferson was pissed.

It was now the Wednesday after the aforementioned tragedy and Brent thought his luck might be picking back up. He was hanging out in the mall and he spied the cause of his romantic disaster strolling in with his twin sisters. When the axe fell on him he hadn't even known what the little brat looked like. He had taken pains to find out about him afterward though. He would know the kid anywhere now.

Brent moved behind one of the kiosk and watched. The sisters headed into Neiman's and the kid moved off toward the food court. Brent followed at a distance. The kid sat down on a bench and Brent decided to make his move.

I was sitting on a bench, waiting for Shelly and Shelia to do their shopping and then come back for me. I knew better than to tag along. Waiting, I wasn't paying any attention to anything; I was ruminating on how good my life was going.

"Well if it isn't little mister rich boy himself," Brent Jefferson said, announcing his presence.

I looked up from the bench to see six feet and two inches of pissed off sneering down at me. I decided maybe I should stand up. When I did I became alarmingly aware of how much more of Brent there was than there was of me.

"Hello Brent," I said, lamely.

"You little pipsqueak asshole. I think I'll pinch your dick off and make you a bitch, my bitch," Brent said.

"Uh," was all I could think of to say.

"I think I'll just jerk your jeans off and bend you over that bench and fuck your skinny ass right here in the mall," he continued.

I wasn't really worried about what Brent was saying but I could tell from his facial expressions and his body language that he probably actually intended to get physical after he talked himself into it. I didn't think anything I could say would help so I kept quiet. I did finally get my brain to function though and started trying to figure out what kind of attack was coming and where it was coming from.

"Cat got your tongue little asshole? Too bad; I'll probably throw it your dick and your little nuts after I get through making you my bitch," Brent said, obviously warming to his topic.

I could see that he was about to go off and then he telegraphed a right that he aimed for the center of my face. I was able to move my head aside at the last second and it just grazed my left temple as it went by. He put so much into the one punch that he was off balance when it missed and he nearly fell into me.

I wrapped both arms around him and gripped with all my strength as he stumbled. Noticing that his feet were widely apart as he struggled for balance, I turned my body into him and lifted my right knee between his legs with all the speed and strength I could muster. Brent was back to being unlucky after all since I actually felt his balls giving way as they were mashed between my knee and his pelvic floor.

He went limp and I released him, stepping back. I let him fall to his hands and knees and then he began to retch. His lunch was soon on the floor and then he was dry heaving. I was flying high on adrenaline now and I wanted to start kicking the shit out of him while he was down. I didn't though; I grabbed my cell phone and dialed Dad, telling him where I was and what had happened. I could see a fat mall security guard running toward us as I was talking. I told Dad that also and he told me not to tell them anything except my name and that my father was on the way.

"What happened?" The security guard asked as he arrived, out of breath.

"My name is Jimmy Breslin. I've called my father and he is on his way here. He told me not to say anything until he arrived," I said, explaining.

"I asked what happened and I don't give a shit who you are. I don't care if your father is coming. He can kiss my ass later but you are going to tell me what happened, now," he said.

I decided he was a moron so I just kept my mouth shut. Brent groaned loudly about then and the fat guard bent down to look at him. He asked Brent what happened and Brent just groaned again so he started back with me. He cursed at me a little and then grabbed my shoulders, shaking me. I didn't resist.

Shelly and Shelia had arrived by then and when he shook me they came up and started screaming. He turned toward them and yelled back at them, telling them to shut up. Naturally they didn't.

"You little bitches had better shut up or I'll be shaking you next," he warned them.

Fat ass was getting on my nerves, and since he had me by the shoulders he was close enough, and since he was standing about like Brent had been, the opportunity was there. Shit, it had worked so well on Brent that I decided to let fat ass have a knee in the nuts too and I tried to see if I couldn't do him even harder.

Fat ass must have had more for lunch than Brent because, as his knees and hands hit the floor his last meal showed up to add to the mess and he contributed much more than Brent had. Soon there was no doubt that the lard-assed guard was a really big eater. As the vomit exploded from his big mouth it nearly splashed on Shelly and Shelia but they were able to jump clear at the last second. They came over to me and started on the first few hundred of probably a million questions while the guard heaved his guts out.

"Dad told me not to say anything until he gets here," I told them.

This stopped their queries and then I was surprised to see Dad walking rapidly down the mall toward me. It couldn't have been fifteen minutes since I'd called him. More impressive were the six policemen following in his wake.

The police made a kind of ring around the scene and were shooing people back. One of them, a sergeant, asked in a loud voice for anyone who had seen the incident to come over to a bench and wait to be interviewed. I was surprised again to see a few people who had been eating move over toward the bench. They were all older people, two couples and three men alone; they were all dressed nicely and looked respectable. I wondered what they were doing hanging out in the mall.

The sergeant came to us and looked at Brent and then fat ass. They were both through puking now and seemed to be just groaning. Brent had gathered enough strength to try cradling his balls but fat ass couldn't do anything but moan. The sergeant turned from them and looked at me.

"Are you all right son? Did they hurt you?" he asked.

"I think I'll be ok. Brent clipped me on the temple and that fat guard shook me but I don't think I'm hurt," I said.

"He shook you, why did he shake you?" Dad asked.

"He was mad because I wouldn't talk to him. I wouldn't have kneed him but he threatened to shake Shelly and Shelia next," I said.

"What?" Dad and the sergeant did the Shelly and Shelia trick, asking in unison.

I repeated myself and just as I made them understand, fat ass groaned louder. We all looked down at him as he was trying to get off his hands and rise to his knees. He pointed a finger at me and looked like he wanted to say something.

The sergeant hauled off and kicked him right in the chest. The fat guard flopped over onto his back and I heard his head whack the hard floor. Then the sergeant yelled to the nearest two of the other cops and told them the guard was resisting arrest. They came over fast and flopped him right back onto his face, which also smacked the floor loudly. One of them kneeled with a knee on the back of his neck while the other one nearly yanked his arms out of socket cuffing his hands behind his back.

I had been expecting the paramedics to arrive at anytime but they didn't. In a few minutes about six more uniform cops showed up bringing a couple of detectives with them. After the detectives read Brent and fat ass their rights, two uniforms grabbed Brent, who was also cuffed by now and steered him out of the mall. Two more uniforms put a baton through the handcuffs on fat ass and began dragging him in the same direction.

I was expecting someone to question me sooner or later but they didn't. Dad talked to the detectives and then told me the ambulance would be there for me in a minute or two. I was going to protest until I saw that look in Dad's eyes - it made me keep my lips together firmly.

Dad told Shelly and Shelia they should ride with me to the emergency room and then he asked for my car keys, telling me he would call a limo service to come out with an extra driver to take the Vette home for me. Then we waited for the paramedics.

When they got there I thought it was a little strange that they obviously knew Dad and called him Mr Breslin. They asked me if I was in pain and I told them not really. Dad then spoke up and told them that a security guard had shaken me.

It was like he'd started a fire under their asses. They had me strapped to a backboard and on a gurney, rolling toward the ambulance, in under five minutes. Shelly and Shelia were right behind them. After they had me loaded, and Shelly and Shelia were seated, the ambulance left with its lights flashing and its siren screaming. A police cruiser swerved into the lead and another followed closely behind.

I went directly to the nearest emergency room and was examined by at least four doctors. They sent me for an MRI and then a CAT scan. The funny thing was, there was no waiting at all. It seemed like everyone was waiting for me to get there. I was in my hospital bed within an hour and a half. Shelly and Shelia were with me, and Mom showed up just as the nurse was tucking me in.

I was afraid Mom would be upset since I was in the hospital but it didn't look like she was. Dad had called her and I guessed he had told her it was just precautionary or something. I didn't really know what was going on. Mom kissed my cheek and asked me how I felt and then she wanted to see where I'd been hit. I told her I was fine and showed her where Brent's fist had grazed my temple. There was a small bruise and she looked it over.

She asked if I'd eaten and I told her none of us had. She said that was good since Dad had already called a caterer and that she thought our meal should arrive shortly. Sure enough a caterer arrived in a few minutes and set up a table for Mom, Dad and the twins. Dad came in just as the food was being served. A separate waiter served me at my bed tray.

After the meal was over and the caterer had cleared everything away, Dad asked Mom and the twins to let us talk in private for a few minutes. They all kissed me on the cheek and went out to a waiting lounge. Dad told me there were two armed policemen guarding my door, merely as a precaution. I asked him why it had all escalated into such a big deal.

"I'm not an ambulance chaser, but when a big company is asking me to take two or three hundred thousand dollars I'm not going to turn them down."

"I don't understand," I said.

"We've already done some checking into this little incident. We found that the security guard that assaulted you has caused trouble before and has gotten out of line handling the public on more than one occasion. Personally, I think he has some type of mental disorder that lets him think his uniform makes him someone important.

"Apparently the upper management of the company that owns that mall, and six others, had no idea he was still employed. For unknown reasons that specific mall's manager kept him on and kept it hidden from upper management. I'm sure there will be a thorough house cleaning now. Unfortunately for them it will be coming too late," Dad said.

"But how did you show up so fast and with so many policemen, and why did they all seem to be doing anything you wanted them to? I mean it seemed that they took it for granted that I hadn't done anything wrong without even asking me any questions."

"At our firm we understand that things go better all around if you can get along with the police and the District Attorney. Any policeman, fireman, or paramedic gets the word early on in their job that if they need legal help they have a friend at our firm. We don't do it free but they know when they come to us they will get a greatly reduced rate. We are also heavy contributors to the widows and orphans fund, and we always support any pay or benefit increases that come up.

"Another favorable point in our relationship with the authorities is that we don't defend criminal cases, we don't practice that kind of law. Therefore none of us ever end up in court as an adversary to the police or District Attorney," he said.

"Well then I don't understand why you bother with them if you're never opposing them," I said.

"Our firm is for rich clients and occasionally rich people run afoul of the law. Since we have such a close relationship with the authorities we are almost always able to get embarrassing fuck-ups swept under the carpet with no fuss. If one of our clients actually commits a serious crime, we recommend an excellent criminal lawyer for them and then put distance between that client and us. We don't want to be associated with things like that, it wouldn't be profitable for us."

"Is that why the police that came with you were so accommodating?" I asked.

"That particular sergeant is one of the highest ranked uniformed officers in the police department here. Three years ago his daughter, who was going to college in another city, got friendly with a bunch of undesirables and she got into serious trouble with drugs and other things. I personally found her the best lawyers I could and used all the influence I had to get her out of the mess. I paid for her to go to the best drug rehab facility in the country out of my own pocket and the sergeant has an excellent memory. He isn't shy about letting other officers know that my firm and I are friends of the police.