8 - The Beast Unbound

    When I was younger the beast knew no bounds.  It would dance
convincingly unfazed by the monotonous moments of life and revel in the
split seconds of war that were it's life's blood.  It has very little
regard for human life (especially mine) and it enjoyed every second that
it was released from it's cage.
    The full moon hid cautiously behind the clouds.  Stotler and I were
just on our way home from a night of remembering what life was like
before the realization of time and it's unforgiving trudge forward.
    The colon, our affectionate name for the local diner, was pretty
much empty except for a few regulars and the whispers of comfort they
provided.  The only element that was out of place was a group of
wannabee bad asses who felt it necessary to let the world know that
ignorance was not just a choice but a birthright.
    My mood that night was just below par.  I only had two cigarettes
left and no cash to buy more.  The thought of putting a pack of
cigarettes on a credit card was just a little much for me.
    As we left the five guys, none older than twenty-one ran past us.
At first I thought they were trying to catch up to a friend of theirs
but I was wrong.  They stood around this new arrival in a circle.  I
pulled out my new lighter and lit one of my last connections to sanity
as the yelling started.
    "Let's go," Stotler said stepping back up on the curb.
    "Wait a minute," I said exhaling, "I want to see just how bad this
gets."  The machines began hammering as the wolves circled the prey.
"Besides, we'd have to walk through them to get to the car anyway."
    They started pushing the new guy back and forth between them.
    "I don't care what you do,"  I yelled, " just don't touch my car."
Some members of the pack just looked over their shoulders.
    I'm 5' 6" on a good day.  The only intimidation factors I have in
my rural little area are that I'm black, I wear a heavy overcoat in
the summer, and unless the light shines on my eyes just right I look
like I have no pupils.  Seeing that I was a little guy standing with my
6' 2" friend, who weighed at the time a little over nothing, they
laughed and paid me no mind.
    The adrenaline caused the machines to power out of control.
    "Don't," Stotler said quietly.  He was always the voice of common
sense.
    The first blow hit the new guy in the back of the head while a shot
to the stomach doubled him over.
    "What the f*ck?!? That's five on one!"  I said stepping off the
curb.
    "Come one don't do this.  If you jump in then I'll have to jump in
and we'll both get our asses kicked."  He was right.  I'm not a big
fighter but the adrenaline and the machines were just beyond reason.  My
body shook as I watched this poor kid getting his ass stomped, then the
unthinkable happened.  One of the pack kicked my car as he tried to
stomp the the helpless prey.  I really didn't care that he kicked my car
but it gave the beast an excuse to pounce.
    "I told you not to kick my car," the machine screamed.  I had never
heard it's voice before.  It thundered like lightning released from the
clouds behind the moon.
    "What the f*ck is wrong with you?"  it continued.  I stared walking
to my car.  They had dragged this poor kid into the center of the
parking lot.  He had the dignity not to scream out loud.  I was too
wrapped in the thought of releasing the beast to be so inclined.
    "One simple request," the machine yelled opening the trunk. "Don't
kick my hit my f*cking car.  How difficult is that?"
    I found the red gas can and removed the cap.  As the machine led me
to the center of the parking lot one of the wolves caught me out of the
out of the corner of his eye.
    "What made you think I was kidding motherf*cker?"  I said as I
walked closer unsheathing the lighter once again.  Mindless animals who
only prey at night are usually afraid of the light.  Baptism by fire for
a thinking animal is far too much to bear for it involves not only light
but if it is done right the realization of what is wrong.
    They stood back from their intended victim.  The thought of their
own physical well-being threatened was a bit much for them.  Stotler
just looked on from the curb.  The little crew made their way to their
car and took off.  I helped the kid to his feet just as the police drove
by.
    I never found out his name.  Never wanted to.
    "You are f*cking crazy," Stotler said as I drove him home.  "You do
realize that?"
    "You want to know what makes it worse," I said laughing as the
machines slowed, "there's probably enough gas in this container to light
my last cigarette."