Thomas brought his unbandaged hand to his face and softly touched his torn bottom lip.
THOMAS: ‘Anyway, to make a long story short… judging by how arrogant and self-confident this kid was, I was expecting him to be some kind of kung-fu master, or something. Turned out that he was a worse fighter than I was, so that night, we both got the fuck kicked out of us. We had no chance. Once they left, this kid, who I had never seen before, just lay there, on the grass, by my side, all bruised and beat up. I was bleeding from my lip and nose and this kid’s eye looked just like mine.’
He pointed at his right eye.
MARY: ‘Is this going to take long? I have some very important “fuck all to do” business that I need to get on with.’
Thomas disregarded her sarcasm and continued.
THOMAS: ‘So, once the dickheads were gone, this kid turned to me and asked – “So how are you doing?” Which made me laugh. I then asked him who he was and if he really thought that he could’ve taken on those four guys? He replied – “Fuck, no. I’m shit at fighting”.’
Thomas had another attempt at a smile.
‘So I asked him why he did it? Why did he jump into a fight that he knew he couldn’t win, to help a complete stranger?’
MARY: ‘Seriously, is there a point to this shitty story?’
THOMAS: ‘Yep. Coming up.’
Thomas had another sip of his drink.
THOMAS: ‘So, like I said, I asked this kid why he jumped into a fight that he knew he couldn’t win, to help a complete stranger? He shrugged and replied – “Because everyone needs help every now and then. Because life is full of battles and some of them aren’t meant to be fought alone. From now on, those assholes know that you’re not alone anymore. They know that every time that they come at you, they’ll have to deal with me too. Strength in numbers, you know?”?’
Thomas chuckled.
THOMAS: ‘I told him that there wasn’t much strength if the two of us were getting the shit beaten out of us every time. The kid smiled and told me that at least the beating got divided – he got fifty percent of it, and I got the other fifty percent. The way it used to be, he said, I was getting one hundred percent of the beating. Divide and conquer, he said.’
MARY: ‘I’m still waiting for the point to this bullshit.’
THOMAS: ‘The point is, Mary, that from that day on, this kid and I became the best of friends… inseparable, really… the brother I never had. Yes, we got the shit kicked out of us plenty of times after that day, but I never got beaten up alone anymore. He was always there for me… dividing the beating.’
Another lopsided smile.
THOMAS: ‘Weird concept, but it worked.’
Melancholy masked Thomas’ face.
THOMAS: ‘When we got to high school, we both began muscling up, and by our sophomore year, no one would mess with us anymore. Once we graduated, his parents got divorced and he moved away, but on our last day of school, I promised him that if he ever needed me… EVER… for anything, all he needed to do was let me know and I’d be there for him – come what may – divide and conquer.’
MARY: ‘The fucking point, Quaddra!’
Her brain was still unable to swap names.
MARY: ‘Where is it?’
Thomas nodded at his screen.
THOMAS: ‘We kind of lost contact after that and I never heard from him again… for well over ten years… and then, one day, I got a letter – not an email, a letter – that he sent to my parents, who forwarded it to me. The letter had been written from prison. In the letter, he explained that he’d fallen completely in love with this woman, and that he’d gotten married.’
Thomas chuckled again before his voice became overly serious, with a hint of anger.
THOMAS: ‘But it turned out that the woman that he’d fallen in love with… the woman that he’d gotten married to was a con artist, who had not only stripped him of everything that he’d worked so hard for his entire adult life, but she’d also sent him to prison for domestic violence, abuse, and false imprisonment and captivity – something that he’d never do… and I know that because Phillip was the kindest soul I’d ever met. He always cared more for others than he ever did for himself.’
As Thomas mentioned his friend’s name, Mary felt her heart freeze inside her.
Thomas read her like a book.
THOMAS: ‘That’s right, Mary. My friend’s name… the kid who had jumped into a fight, which he knew he couldn’t win, just so that a complete stranger wouldn’t get beaten up alone… was Phillip Evans. When his parents got divorced, he and his mother moved to London, in the United Kingdom. You must remember him, don’t you? He was your first fucking husband.’
