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“No. Just trying to picture a situation where someone would call you that word.”
“You don’t know what you think you do. Which brings me to the second topic here. This has to be about the present.”
“What does?”
“Us. Talking.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“Well, if that were the case, then why am I here?”
“Joe, you know why you’re here.”
“But you just said that the past doesn’t matter.”
“I didn’t mean-”
“You said it. You want it to be about the present. Isn’t that what you said?”
Anna’s nostrils flared.
She clicked her pen again, shutting it.
She placed the notepad and the pen next to her.
“I’m going to ask you right up front… why did you throw that man through the window?”
“The bar was stuffy,” I said. “Wanted to open the window.”
“I don’t think answers like that are going to get us anywhere. Remember the goal. You want to play hockey again.”
I flexed my jaw. “I explained why I threw him through the window.” Anna opened her mouth and I held up a hand. “I also explained everything else. The guy is fine. He’s not pressing charges. Which tells me he knew he was in the wrong. He ran his mouth and got smacked around a little. I bet it wasn’t the first time he got drunk, said something, and got popped.”
“So you just assume this man you attacked has a history of being tossed through windows?”
“Seems like you should ask him that personally,” I said. “In fact, he’s the one with the drinking problem, right? He’s the one who needs the help. Not me.”
I started to stand and Anna pointed at me.
I froze in place.
“Do you have a history of violence, Joe?”
I laughed.
Anna didn’t.
Then there was silence.
“Joe, did you hear my question?”
“I heard your question.”
“Okay. Want me to ask it again?”
“What is this?” I asked. “You’re asking me if I have a history of violence?”
