Tom shows he’s still in the fight

Mike Hogan

Tom had been slumped in his chair and staring at the pool for longer than he could remember. The water was specked with brown leaves and looked furiously cold. He hadn’t noticed how much the temperature had dropped until he saw his breath in front of him. It was hard to ignore after that.

“Whacha thinkin’, killer?”

Tom jumped in his chair. He turned to see Renaldo standing on his balcony, bathed in the light from above. What did Tom have to say to him?

“Or anyone for that matter,” he thought. He just looked at him, which must have seemed inviting. Renaldo passed into the shadows briefly and reemerged halfway down the stairs, the light catching silver in both hands. He reached the bottom and set a beer down next to Tom.

“Thanks.” Tom cracked it open and took a long swallow. It was as cold as the pool water looked but soothing all the same. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back.

“I see you drowning in your sorrows out here. I couldn’t help myself,” Renaldo said.

“Misery loves company, huh?” Tom said with a pained chuckle.

“Oh I bet you’re learning something about misery. Giving and getting. Isn’t that right boyo?”

Tom stiffened at that. “I didn’t do anything, Renaldo. This is ridiculous.” He was getting tired of saying it, but there was nothing else to be said.

“Bet you enjoyed it too, didn’t you? Yeah, I’d put money on that,” he tittered.

“I’m not like you, you sick bastard.”

“Oh, I’ve had my fill of wicked behavior. Lawless hedonism,” he laughed. “That’s the life. That’s living. I grew up in Nicaragua boy — ”

“Shut up, Renaldo. Shut the hell up.”

“Down there,” he clacked, “All bets off, aren’t I right? Nothing feels quite like it.”

Tom threw his beer in Renaldo’s face. It dripped from each end of his moustache, falling over a twisted smile. Renaldo began howling at that. “Oh, oh, oh, he’s got a bite!” Tom didn’t know why he was still outside with him. He got up and started for his apartment.

“Look at you. HA. Look at you, got no job, got no girl. You’re showing your true colors, boyo, you’ve got an itch. Hell, you’ve had an itch, just never had the balls to scratch it. Only your balls came too late, cause now your girl is out getting some real — ”

Tom wheeled around and drove his fist into Renaldo’s nose as hard as he could, spraying crisp blood into the air. “That’s it old man. I’m gonna kick your — ”

Renaldo answered quicker than Tom could have imagined, catching him with a right hook under the eye. Tom winced at the pain as Renaldo landed a straight shot that sent blood pouring from his nose, sending Tom to the ground with a thud and a groan.

Renaldo spit blood and laughter. “That’s right, boyo. You ain’t no stinking Oedipus.” He sauntered back up his stairs, throwing victorious punches at the air. “I still got it, don’t say I don’t.”