Category: Altercations

episode 37 of street dreams a novel

Episode 37

After about a fifteen minute ride Kerry and Hartley Popovich could hear Aleister trying to speak. At first, all Aleister could manage was a few garbled words. His two friends were now starting to hear some words and phrases that were decipherable. Aleister attempted to say a few things that sounded like:

“Where am I? I’m in pain. I need help.”

Kerry turned around and said to Aleister, “We were just at a party. You got the crap beat out of you by a big dude that you were arguing with. Someone called the cops so we picked you up and got you into Hartley’s car. The grey interior of the old Ford Tempo was stained with the blood from the wounds in Aleister’s head. The good news was that the blood coming from Aleister’s head was now starting to coagulate.

Hartley was now doing over 110 km/h when the car skidded on a snow-covered patch of ice and fishtailed off to the right shoulder of the of Bishop Grandin Boulevard.

About thirty meters behind them was a red Ford Taurus with Harold Payton driving and Whisper Willows riding shotgun.

“Hey Harold, look to your right. There’s a car on the shoulder up ahead. Looks like they’re going to need help,” Whisper said.

Harold and Whisper were just returning from getting a late night supper at Pizza Hut. The driving was hazardous tonight as a heavy snowfall had just begun.

One of Harold’s personality traits was both a blessing and a curse. He was a nice guy. Too nice a guy. Whenever he encountered someone in trouble, he wouldn’t hesitate to try to assist them. No matter how much trouble a stranger might be in or how dangerous this intervention might prove to be, Harold would jump in to help them without any reservations. Harold Peyton could be very impulsive and perhaps even a bit self-destructive if he felt that the situation warranted it.

Harold drove his car right behind Hartley’s car. He and Whisper got out of the car and trudged through the snow toward the white Ford Tempo. Whisper could make out a bumper sticker that read, ‘Crash and Burn’. Harold approached the driver side door and knocked on the glass. He called out, “Are you people all right? Do you need help?”

Hartley was still in a bit of a daze as he hit his head on the steering wheel causing the car’s horn to go off.

“Yeah, we need help,” Hartley answered as he lowered his shoulder and banged the front door open. The passenger side door was old and rusty making it difficult to push open. The light in the interior of the car came on so Harold could now see inside the vehicle. He could see another young man occupying the passenger seat. He could make out a third young male who was trying to prop himself up in the backseat. This individual gave out a shriek of pain as he tried to move himself into a sitting position.

Whisper opened the back door of the car and made a quick visual inspection of the man who was in obvious pain.

“How do you feel, dude? What the hell happened to you?” Whisper asked Aleister.

Whisper could see that the injured man had bloodstains on his beige Slipknot T-shirt. He also had some bruises on his forehead. She asked Aleister to turn the back of his head towards her. Whisper noticed three small places where blood had previously been flowing from Aleister’s head.

“Whatever you do, don’t touch me, lady. My neck and back are killing me and I feel like I just got run over by a semi- trailer,” Aleister said in a low pained voice.

Kerry spoke up, “Don’t try to talk now, Aleister. Save your strength.”

Then he turned towards Whisper and Harold and said, “Look we just came back from Boogy’s Sports Bar. We were watching a wrestling pay-per-view and having a few beers when we noticed that Aleister had been in the washroom for a long time. Hartley went into the men’s room to check on him and found Aleister slumped on the floor. There were bloodstains on the wall behind him. Hartley and I got Aleister out of the bathroom and into our car.

Harold Peyton moved closer to Kerry, “Hey, my name is Harold and this is my friend, Whisper. Back in the day I was a medic during the war in Vietnam. Can I check on your friend’s condition?”

Before Kerry could answer a police patrol car with its lights flashing pulled up right behind him. Constable Bill Noble and Constable Melissa Parks got out of the patrol car. Constable Bill took a quick check around the area to see if there was anything dangerous around the scene that he and his partner were about to investigate. The wind had picked up and Bill’s ears were getting cold. Hartley panicked and placed his car key in the ignition. Constable Noble saw what Hartley was trying to do and snatched the car keys out of his hand.

“What’s your hurry, Bud? Are you trying to get away from us? Let’s see your driver’s license and registration.”

Hartley remembered that he had put his bag of drugs in the glove compartment. He knew the cops were going to search the car. He gave Constable Bill a shove and was tackled from behind by Constable Parks. She quickly and efficiently put the hand cuffs on Hartley. 20180924_100134

The Party Episode 29 of Street Dreams by Ken David Stewart

Episode 29 Street Dreams The Party

Tony Barrows arrived at a house party on Beliveau Road the St. Vital area of Winnipeg. He had received an email from one of his buddies telling him about the party. Tony could be described as having a crash and burn type of personality. He possessed very low self-esteem, was filled with self-hatred and really didn’t care if he lived or died. He really only had one aspiration in life that was to get drunk, stoned and party hard. The email that Tony received promised him lots of booze, drugs and young girls. He invited Whisper to come along with him almost as an afterthought. Tony had known Whisper for approximately a year and she had developed areputation as a party girl. Tony was not in love with her, but he occasionally enjoyed her company. He had little if any respect for her, but then again Tony really didn’t have any respect for himself. He couldn’t envision any purpose for his life. He was miserable most of the time but often found some reprieve from his personal angst by getting totally wasted.

Tony was a physically strong young man and for a short period of time had been an amateur boxer. It didn’t bother him if a party that he attended a became a little violent. Tony felt that he could take care of himself in any physical altercation and he had yet to lose a brawl in his life. He didn’t fear anyone no matter how big they were and actually welcomed a good, hard, knock- down, drag out fight. Tony didn’t usually initiate fights, but he had a very short fuse and it didn’t take too much to trigger him.

As soon as Tony and Whisper entered the house, they were immediately enveloped by both the smell of smoke and the smell of cannabis. The music was at such a high volume that it would be very difficult to listen to anyone speak. A large silver boombox with flashing colours was playing the Guns N Roses greatest hits album. The sound of Sweet Child of Mine gave Whisper a bit of a buzz as she was a huge fan of Guns N Roses and had a crush on their lead singer Axl Rose.

There must’ve been at least twenty people at the house party that Tony and Whisper could see. The house itself was an older type of three bedroom residence that was in bad need repair and cleaning. Corners of the ceiling had yellow tobacco smoke stains. The light orange carpet looked like it had not been cleaned in years and was spotted by large dark stains. This was the type of house that no one cared about. The young people present in the house appeared to be oblivious to the decrepit, dilapidated condition of the place. Why should they care? Nobody seemed to know whose house it was and no one cared enough to ask. Whisper observed a scraggly looking couple alternately taking hoots from a large orange coloured bong. The male on the couch looked like he had not eaten any food in at least a week and smelled like he hadn’t taken a shower or changed his clothes for several days. The girl was short in stature and was probably between fifteen to seventeen years of age. It was difficult to tell as she was wearing very heavy mascara. Her arms were covered from wrist to shoulders with body art. She had a small picture of Aleister Crowley tattooed on her left forearm . She too reeked of stale body odour.

These were Tony’s kind of people and he felt right at home admist this house of squalor.

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