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I walked in my back door four minutes later.
“Mom?”
“I’m in my bedroom,” she yelled.
I walked in to see both of my parents up with their backs against their headboard, still in their pajamas. I rubbed the back of my neck to redistribute the pooling blood I know that had to be painting my face red and leaned my sore shoulder against the jamb. When they saw me I didn’t get the reaction I was expecting, at all.
“Oh my God!” My mom screamed and ran over to me, my dad not far behind. “What happened to you son?”
“I told you I’d gotten into a fight.”
“Oh my God Mark! Look at his face!”
“I look that bad, huh? You should see the other guys, barely a scratch on ‘em,” I teased.
“Who did this Elliott?” My dad asked, inspecting my throwing arm. He scowled when he saw the knuckles on my right hand.
“Couple of college kids, from Charleston I assume.”
“Did you call Danny?” My mom asked.
“No, I didn’t have time to. I needed to get Jules out of there. We had a heck of a night.”
“Sit down,” my mom commanded.
“Well, I’d love to, but I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because they punched the crap out of my ribs and it hurts to sit.”
“Well, that quells any suspicions I had about you and the Jacobs girl,” my dad said.
“Mark!”
I almost laughed.
“Are they broken?” She asked.
I’d had a broken rib before.
“No, just bruised,” I said.
“Okay, well, let’s just get you upstairs,” she said, “and we’ll help you lie down.”
They both helped me take a stair at a time and once I reached the top I exhaled and promised myself that I’d never let someone hit me in the ribs again. Death before anyone punches me there again, theirs or mine. My parents helped me lie down and my mom promised me a long talk the next morning after church.
The next morning, while everyone readied for church, I just laid there wishing I could join them when we heard a knock on the back door.
“Hi Julia,” my dad said.
“Hi Mark,” a bubbly Jules said.
She called them by their first names with ease. I could barely squawk out Mr. or Mrs. Jacobs.
“To what do we owe the pleasure young lady?” My mom asked dryly.
Uh, oh.
