Free Crowam 281 by Frank Nunez Page B

Tom can be quite a ruffian I’m afraid.”
    “No kidding.”
    “Never got that chap. Just doesn’t know how to handle his emotions.”
    “I’ve always believed violence is for those who can’t settle disputes with their minds,” Thomas said.
    “Tell that to Hitler,” I said.
    “Why, yes, Thomas. Are you saying that the war was unnecessary?” Felix asked.
    “I just think there is always an alternative solution to violence, that’s all. Take that over grown brute, Tom. He deems it necessary to hurt Jake because of emotions and personal issues he can’t understand. Frankly, he’s weak minded. “
    “Don’t have Tom catch you saying that,” Felix said.
    “Well, I’ve always believed that when you’re pushed against the wall, you have to push back. Nobody gets anywhere by just letting somebody get the best of you,” I said.
    “Sometimes things aren’t as simple as they seem,” Thomas replied.
    “Maybe they are. Maybe people just have a habit of over complicating things.”
    “There’s always a grey area, Jake.”
    “Yea that grey is just there to distract the rest of us from what’s really going on.”
    “I don’t understand,” Thomas said
    “All I am saying is that there is right and wrong, good and evil. That grey area you talk about is for those who don’t want to stand up and fight for something.”
    “Oh enough with the philosophy already. My head is going to shrivel with all that nonsense. It’s all rubbish anyway, pure rubbish. It’ll rot your brain I tell you,” Felix said.
    “Thanks for the warning. You see, Thomas. Reading those books will fry your brain,” I said.
    “I believe you’re reading one of those supposed books as well,” Thomas replied.
    “Say it ain’t so!” Felix said.
    “What’s wrong with reading?” Charles asked.
    “There’s nothing wrong with it,” Thomas said.
    “Books are intriguing, but it is no substitute for life, gentlemen. It is those experiences we live that make living so bittersweet. Experiences you can never find in books,” Felix said.
    “Ah, but it is books that we pass on those very experiences that others have lived and imagined. It is books where we learn and recognize those bittersweet moments you speak of,” Thomas said.
    “Look at us here boys, we have William Shakespeare in the flesh, born again to educate us all on the duality of man,” I said.
    “We should all be so lucky!” Owen said.
    Tom got up to get himself a second serving of meat and potatoes. The lunch lady was unappreciative of his appetite “How about another serving beautiful?” Tom asked.
    “Sorry. No second helpings.”
    “What do you mean, no second helpings?”
    “Just what I said. No second helpings.”
    “You’re bloody joking.”
    “Do I look like I’m joking, you big buffoon? Get on out of here.”
    “No. I want my second helpings!” Tom yelled.
    “You can’t have any.”
    The Bus Driver emerged from the back of the kitchen. “We got a problem here?” the driver asked.
    “This boy thinks he deserves second helpings,” the lunch lady said.
    “Is that right?” the guard scoffed.
    “Why don’t you bug off,” Tom said.
    The Bus Driver shoved the kitchen door open, banging the door loudly enough to startle the boys inside the hall. He took off his dirty apron, cracking his jaw. “What was that you said?”
    “I said bug off.”
    He gave a devilish smile, shoved Tom back, and knocked over some of the boys sitting behind him. He rushed toward the driver and punched him in his beer belly of a stomach. The driver grinned before Tom landed a hook to his jaw. His eyes erupted with anger. He laid a good one onto Tom’s right eye, but not enough to knock him down.
    The two went at it like two prizefighters. Even considering Tom was the big brute that he was, he had a hard time holding his own against a man twice his size.
    I didn’t know what the hell compelled me to do it. I got up from my chair and leaped off one of the tables, jumping on