Page 29 of Spike

I leaned back inmy seat and exhaled deeply. “I grew up in Vancouver.”

“My brother livesin the ’Couve. I love it there.”

“Yeah, Most ofit’s nice, just not where I grew up. My mom worked sporadically at best, so wesurvived mostly on welfare and “loans” from her mom back in Illinois. As such,the best accommodation we could afford was the Greenway Mobile Estates on FruitValley Road. Located between a steel mill and a recycling plant, and justtwo-hundred-fifty feet from the railroad tracks leading to the nearby traindepot.”

“Sounds like thelyrics of a country song,” Trixie said.

I chuckled. “Ihappen to know Melody Morgan’s guitar player. He’s also her old man. Maybe Ican pitch them to him.”

“Do you, really?”

I nodded. “Herides with the Dogs of Fire, a Portland club we’re on friendly terms with. Lastyear, Ropes sold him a KISS pinball machine that I helped him refurbish, and Igot to know him then.”

“I don’t even knowhow to process that. I’m the biggest Melody Morgan fan on the planet.”

“Well, then I’llmake sure you meet her some time.”

She smiled, thenchanged the subject. “What was little Jesse like?”

“I was your basickid, really. I’d ride bikes with my friends after school or hang out atFranklin Park, which was nearby. I played video games, hopped freight cars—”

“Hopped freightcars?” Her eyes widened. “Were you training to be a hobo or something? Did youhave a red bandana tied to the end of stick, to keep all your stuff in?”

“If you keepcracking jokes, I’m never gonna get through this story.”

Trixie scrunchedup her face. “I’m sorry, I get chatty and goofy when I’m nervous.”

“Why are younervous?”

“Because yourchildhood sounds dark and dangerous.”

“It was, but itwas also fun, adventurous, and filled with interesting people. My mom may havebeen a wreck, but she was also loving, supportive, and mostly really fun to bearound. Then there was this other side of her that was volatile, destructive,and untrustworthy. Both sides of her coin were true, and she never tried tohide who she was. She loved everyone she came into contact with. Truly,completely, and without judgement. That instinct got her into a lot of troubleover the years, but she still managed to instill the basic tenants of love inme.”

“I wish I couldhave met her.”

“She would haveloved you,” I replied. “Anyway, one day after school, me and two of my friendswere waiting by the tracks for a train we could hop. With the depot being sonearby, the freight trains would be traveling at hoppable speed by the timethey reached our neighborhood. Of course, this was illegal, and our parents andteachers were constantly screaming at us to stay away from the tracks, but itwas futile. After school, a bunch of us would usually hang out at the parkuntil we heard a train approaching. Then we’d all haul ass for the tracks andsee if we could catch a ride home.”

“If I’d triedthat, I would have been run over, for sure.”

“That was a realrisk, but not the one we feared the most. The biggest threat to us was BrettMacCourt, better known as Mac of Big Mac. Due to being held back a gradeseveral times, Mac was two years older than anyone in our freshman class. Hewas a big guy already, but being older made him tower over just about anyone.To top it off, he was mean, violent, and worst of all, rich. He lived a fewmiles up the road, where Fruit Valley Road turns into Lakeshore, leading to theposh Felida area of Vancouver. Because of our shared proximity, some of thecity’s richest and poorest kids were thrown together to co-exist at our school.Most of the kids, on either side of the poverty line were totally fine and gotalong without incident, but some of the more entitled rich kids, like Mac,treated those of us without money like garbage.”

“I hate bullies,”Trixie growled.

“Bullies, I canhandle. Mac was something else. He’d skip sixth period just so he could lay inwait for us at the park, or surprise us at the tracks. He’d jump out ofwherever he’d been hiding, grab whoever he could get a hold of, and beat theshit out of them just for fun. He broke Danny Pendergrass’s orbital socket,causing him to lose most of the sight in his left eye.”

“Oh, my gosh. Whydidn’t anyone do anything?”

“Danny’s parentstried, but Mac’s dad threw hush money at them, and after that no one said shitabout it. Not the cops, not the school, and least of all not Danny.”

“That’s horrible.”

I nodded. “So, Maccontinued to terrorize everyone until the day it was my turn. It was towardsthe very end of my Freshman year and had been a few months since Mac had fuckedwith anybody, so my guard was down. I was with my two best friends, Jeff andPhillip, and we were waiting for a train to hop. Mac threw a rock at us frombehind, hitting Jeff squarely in the back of the head. At first, I had no ideawhat had happened. I just saw Jeff drop to the ground and then blood gushingfrom the back of his head.”

Trixie gasped.

“I turned aroundto see Mac laughing about fifty feet away, still chucking rocks at us as hardas he could. I completely lost my shit. I looked to the ground to findsomething I could use as a weapon and spotted a rusty, bent, railroad spikelying near the tracks. Before I could think, I picked it up and ran, top speedtowards him. I remember the surprised look on his face as I charged him, andthen the next thing I remember is being on top of him, smashing his face withthe spike. I hit him three times. Broke his nose, his jaw, and he required onehundred and twelve stiches, and three plastic surgeries.”

Trixie gasped.“What about Jeff?”

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