Free Painless by Derek Ciccone Page B

if this is your wife then I’m just kidding,” he said in Dana’s direction, laughing his obnoxious laugh.
    Dana grinned sheepishly. “I’m not his wife or girlfriend, but I’m very interested in Billy’s other women.”
    “Let’s just say I saw him at this Mexican joint last night and he likes the hot and spicy, and I ain’t talking about salsa, if you know what I mean.”
    Dana’s brow crinkled. “You do know your child is standing right there, right?”
    Hawk was oblivious. “Oh, I should have introduced you to my boy, Little Hawk. He’s as pissed as his old man that he’s missing the first week of the NFL season to look at some friggin animals.”
    Suddenly Hawk began staring down Billy.
    Billy felt uncomfortable. “What—you’ve never seen a grown man in an Elmo costume?”
    “I swear I know you from somewhere. Harper,” he snapped his meaty fingers as if it was helping him to think. “Billy Harper, where do I know that name?”
    “As far as I know, we met for the first time last night.”
    He kept staring at Billy and then something clicked. “I knew it! The Amish Rifle—Ohio State—the comeback against Michigan—Rose Bowl MVP—quit like a little sissy.”
    “My dad knows everything about sports,” Little Hawk said as he pulled candy from his goody bag and stuffed a handful into his mouth.
    “That was a long time ago,” Billy said.
    “The Amish Rifle?” Dana inquired with smiling interest.
    “It’s a long story,” Billy answered.
    “Lucky for you, sweetheart, Mr. Sports is here to explain it for you.”
    “My dad knows everything about sports,” Little Hawk added, in case nobody heard him the first time.
    Carolyn’s arrival ended the interrogation. “Billy, Aunt Dana—can you come watch me ride my big girl bike in the coldysack?”
    “Why don’t you get your bike and race Carolyn,” Hawk told his son, flashing a competition glare.
    Carolyn looked with annoyance at the pudgy child, seemingly remembering the “sand box incident.” “Are you gonna be mean to me?” she asked the boy.
    “Nobody is going to be mean to you or I’ll have The Amish Rifle take care of them,” Dana interjected with a laugh.
    “My kid ain’t afraid of anyone in no Elmo Suit!” Hawk growled.
    Carolyn never met a challenge she didn’t like. “Then what are we waiting for? I’m not getting any younger!”
     
    The Tour de Cul-de-sac ended with Little Hawk winning by default when Carolyn crashed to the pavement, badly scraping her elbows, and almost giving Beth a stroke. But Billy couldn’t help but to admire the fearlessness in the girl, who only cried because she wasn’t granted a rematch.
    Following the party, at Beth’s request, Billy retrieved one of his latest versions of Peanut Butter & Jelly and met Carolyn in her room for a bedtime story. Her room really was fit for a princess. The cavernous area looked like an airplane hanger, taking up the entire top floor of the barn, about the size of a football field. The roof was twenty feet high and secured by large timber beams. Back in the day, it was used to store bales of hay.
    Despite its grandiosity, the room was set up like a typical little girl’s room. It was filled with dolls, including mop-topped replicas of the Hanson Brothers from Slap Shot fame. Beside them sat half the population of Sesame Street. Beside her bed were pictures of Chuck in his hockey days, along with Carolyn’s hockey stick that she had named Mr. Stick, and her fish, which keeping with the hockey theme, was named Puck. Chuck had told Billy that the independent Carolyn would begin each night in the lonely warehouse of a room, before finding an excuse to slide into bed with him and Beth during the night.
    In the story, the school bully was picking on the quiet Peanut Butter and stole her lunch money. Jelly designed a gimmicky plan to set up the bully so he would be caught by the teacher. After the bully got escorted to the principal’s office, both girls got a