Same Old Song and Dance Ch. 01

"What's going on," asked Donna.

"Terry got into a fight," I said. "They're holding him until someone comes to pick him up."

"Who was he fighting," she asked.

"I don't know, Donna," I said.

"Was he older than Terry? Was he older than us," she asked.

"I don't know, Donna," I said. Then I looked at her, wondering what the hell was on her mind. Why would Terry be fighting someone older than us? It was a stupid question.

"I'll tell you everything as soon as I get back," I said. I left the house and went out to the garage. My new 2015 Mustang was still on display with the rest of the cars in the show. Donna drove us home in her minivan. I hit the garage button, and the door opened. I would have to drive my 2009 45th anniversary Mustang.

I got that little buzzing in the pit of my stomach. My face broke out in a smile. I liked my new Mustang. I respected it for what it was. It was a more refined car. With its independent rear suspension and advanced electronics, it was more sports car-like than any Mustang before it. As cars go, it was a scalpel.

But, my 09 is a fuckin' hammer. The car was not nice. It isn't refined. This car is a brute. There are no paddle shifters. There's no electronic transmission interface. The car doesn't have a built in line lock.

But it has a huge ball bearing supercharger that is tuned to put out almost eight hundred horsepower. It has an illegal exhaust system with no catalytic converters as if it and I are just saying 'fuck the environment,' every time we go out.

To be honest, I'm a little bit scared of the car. That's one of the reasons that I'm reluctant to pass it down to Terry. The car has a mind of its own. It does 60 miles an hour in first gear. To do 25 miles an hour while going through school zones, I have to keep my foot on the brakes very lightly. Of course if I actually let the brakes clamp, I won't go anywhere.

The brakes are huge 14" Brembo six piston calipers in the front and smaller four piston calipers in the rear. I'm sure that if I stood on my brakes at a hundred, I could make the car flip over like a biker flying over the handlebars because only his front brake grabbed.

Starting that huge engine is an almost religious experience. The motor growls and thrums impatiently as if looking for speed limits to shatter. As I hit the freeway, I marvel at the way the car handles. I'm doing ninety, and the car feels as if I'm barely doing 40. I look around me in every direction to make sure the coast is clear before letting my foot drop a bit more.

It takes me less than six minutes to drive the ten miles to the Main Street exit. The Sherriff's station is located in the same block as the freeway exit.

As soon as I walked in the door he gestured for me to come over to his desk. "Hey, Greg, are you walkin' funny?" he asked.

"Nope, I'm fine, Tom," I smiled.

"Well, shit, you could at least pretend to be a little tired, just to be polite," he said. "Anyway, Terry is here and he's fine. He's been through hell, but he's fine." He saw the look of concern on my face.

"He got into a couple of fights, nothing serious, at least not for him. One of them ... Well maybe neither of them was his fault. So even though there were injuries to the other parties, I'm not going to charge him with anything. Both of the other parties have declined to press charges. I think it's good for everyone if this stays quiet and private. I'm going to release him into your custody, but I want him kept under house arrest for the next couple of weeks, unless he is accompanied by a parental figure," he said.

I nodded my head.

"Greg, I want you to keep your temper too," he said.

"I'm always under control," I laughed. "Besides he's too big to spank."

"He probably ain't the one who needs to be spanked," he said. His usually happy face got serious.

"What's going on, Tom?" I asked.

"Terry had a total of four fights today," he said. "He fought the same two men twice each. I wanted to find out what the fuck was going on so I interviewed all three of them separately. Ralph Kramden is a fat old wannabe gangster, who's past his prime, but still wants to think of himself as being tough. From witnesses' accounts, Terry punched Ralph out during the setup for the picnic this morning. No one knew why. Most people had no idea they even knew each other, let alone had a reason to be fighting.

Jeff Martin, is Clint Martin's kid. You know the type, spoiled little rich boy ... walks around town like his shit don't stink. And those are his good points. Andy broke up a fight between Terry and Jeff just after you delivered that ass kicking in the foot race. He let them both go. Andy can't stand the shit out of Jeff, but then except for his parents, who can?"

"Isn't he engaged to the Turner girl?" I asked. "The real pretty one who wants to be a doctor?"

"Not anymore," smirked the Sheriff. "And your son had a lot to do with that."

"Doubtful," I said. "Terry is half nuts over Kira Sedgewick and ..."

"Not anymore," repeated the sheriff. "Here let me play the tapes for you."

He turned to a computer monitor on his desk. As the monitor flashed on, I saw a scene that was recorded in the questioning room in the rear. The camera was centered in an older man. He was large and looked as if he had once been very muscular but at his advanced age, most of the muscle had been replaced with fat. I recognized him as Ralph Kramden. I didn't know him personally, but I'd run into him at events around town.

"Why were you fighting with Terry Brooks, Mr. Kramden," asked the voice of the sheriff.

"I don't know who that is," replied Kramden.

"He's the young man you were fighting with sir," said the Sheriff.

"I don't remember having a fight," he said.

"Is that how you got your rep as a tough guy," asked the Sheriff. "Whenever you get your ass beat by a teenager; you forget that it happened so in your mind it never did?"

"He didn't kick my ass," snarled Kramden. "He has some fancy Karate moves; that's all. The loser of a fight ain't the guy who gets knocked down. The loser is the guy who doesn't get up in the end. I would have outlasted him."

"That kid is in the other office without a scratch on him," laughed the sheriff. "Both of your eyes are black. You have a split lip, and your face is swollen up so big that you look like one of those balloons in the Macy's parade. Despite your flawless logic, it LOOKS like you got your ass kicked. Well ... Maybe you're right. I've heard that kids these days don't like having their shoes scuffed. And he probably got his scuffed up pretty good kicking your ass. So maybe you can tell me why it happened."

"I think it was a case of misidentification," said Kramden. "He thought I was someone else. Anyway, no one's pressing charges. So, can I go?"

When the tape ended another began. This one showed Jeffery Martin; his face was bruised; his arm was in a sling; he was missing a couple of teeth, and his nose was bleeding profusely and seemed out of place.

"Jeff," asked the Sheriff. "Why did you attack Terry Brooks?"

"That bastard ruined my fuckin' life," screamed Jeff. His anger had apparently gotten the better of his common sense because as soon as he stopped screaming he winced in pain and held onto his jaw.

"How did he ruin your life," asked the Sheriff calmly.

"He told my fiancé a bunch of fuckin' lies and she broke up with me," yelled Jeff. He grabbed his jaw in pain again. "Anyway, why am I here? My lawyer spoke to Terry. We made a deal. I'm not charging him with assault battery; he's not charging me with assault. It's a wash."

"But you started the fight," the sheriff said.

"He started the first one," spat Jeff. "It's a balance; we're good. Where's my lawyer? I'm leaving."

The scene changed again, and Terry was sitting in the chair. My son looked awful. Physically, he didn't have a scratch on him. However, he looked like his best friend, and his dog had both just died.

"Terry, why were you fighting with Jeff Martin," asked the Sheriff.

"It was self defense," said Terry. "You have witnesses. He attacked me."

"Yeah he did," said the Sheriff. "But you didn't have to do what you did to him to protect yourself. You beat the cowboy shit out of him. Unless I get some answers, you're going to jail."

"Jeff is a piece of shit," said Terry. "While I was away at school, he started screwing Kira. He knew that she was my girl. He doesn't even like her. He just used her. So I broke up with her. But I heard him talking to a couple of his friends this morning. He started talking shit so I popped him one, okay maybe it was two. But, Andy broke it up, and we shook hands and walked away. He said it was over and settled. But then later in the day he just ran up on me screaming his head off and calling me a bunch of names."

"Why do you think he did that," asked the Sheriff.

"I know why he did it," said Terry. "He figured we were even. I disagreed. He fucked Kira for the whole time that I was gone. I lost my girl, my self-respect, the future I had planned and finally, my temper. He lost nothing. He kept saying that what happened between them didn't mean anything. It didn't mean anything to HIM, because he lost nothing. So I paid Lana a visit and told her what had been going on. I told her just to be on the up and up. Lana and I attend the same school. We've studied together a time or two.

"Lana dumped Jeff. That, made me feel a little bit better, because Jeff had lost something too. Then he started that fight and lost even more. He lost his temper like I had. He lost the fight. He lost his reputation as a bad ass. He lost some skin, and he lost a few teeth. I figure we're even."

"So, why did you attack Ralph Kramden," asked the sheriff.

"I can't say," said Terry looking down.

"Then you're going to prison," said the sheriff.

"Okay," sighed Terry. He and Tom sat there not speaking for a long time. Tom was trying to let the silence goad Terry into talking, but Terry didn't fall for it.

"Your dad is going to be really disappointed," said Tom, realizing that his trick hadn't worked.

"I'd rather have him disappointed than hurt," said Terry quietly.

"Ralph Kramden threatened to hurt your dad," asked the sheriff. Terry started laughing till he almost fell on the floor.

"My dad would jam his hand up that old man's ass and pull him inside out," laughed Terry. "There would just be a bloody pool of shit and guts all over the floor."

"Then what are you afraid of," asked the sheriff.

"If I tell you what happened, will you keep it just between us," asked Terry. "No matter what happens to me, I don't want you to tell my dad." Tom nodded.

"I got to the picnic area a lot later than I was supposed to," began Terry. "I slept late because I was already upset about what happened with Kira and Jeff. I decided to break up with her and just move on with my life. I figured I'd spend this summer with my family and next summer, I just wouldn't come home. I was intending to take a summer internship and just not come home next summer. Maybe I'd pop in at the end of the summer and stay for a few days before heading back to school. That way, I wouldn't run into her.

"So once I woke up, I headed for the park. I knew my mom would be a tiny bit pissed at me because I was late and that added to all of the things that had me ready to pop. But once I saw her; I was ready to pop for a different reason. My mom was over by the picnic tables. And she wasn't alone.

"They were hemmed up by the trees so no one could see them. It was that fat slobbering, stupid looking guy who acts like a reject from the Godfather movies. He had his hand down her pants in the front, and she was trying to pull his dick out. They were staring at each other and smiling.

"As soon as I yelled at him to get his hands off of her, they started lying. They started telling me that I didn't see what I thought I saw.

"I lost my temper because I was already upset about Kira being such a slut and then I had to add my mother to the slut list. So I popped the gorilla a couple of times. Of course, my mom and some guys in the park pulled me off of him. And she started lying to me. She actually tried to get me to believe that my dad was in on some kind of joke where her, and the gorilla groped each other for laughs. I told her that there was no way my dad would ever go for anything like that and she panicked and told me it was just fun and games but it had never gone any further. When I told her that she lied to me about it, she admitted that they had slept together but it had only happened once and it would never happen again because she loved my dad.

"I think she knew then that I didn't believe her, so she started begging me not to tell him. She followed me all the way out to my car. I just don't trust women; not even my own mother. So as you can see, I'm kind of an emotional wreck right now and ..."

The sheriff stopped the recording and looked at me. "I didn't break my word to him," he said. "I didn't tell you anything. I just played the tape for you. I uh ... figured you'd want to know. You don't have to do anything about it. You can take some time to figure out your situation. Oh, I should also tell you ... My daughter Tara was there. She kinda considers herself your kids' aunt. So she wanted to make sure he wasn't mistreated or railroaded. Greg, she's all broken up."

"Why's she all broken up?" I asked. "Oh wait, she's been through this too. One of her husband's cheated on her, right," he nodded.

"It's okay," I said. "If I can't trust Tara, there's ..."

"There's what," he asked.

"Shit!" I said. "I'd have bet my life that I could trust Donna. And look what that got me."

"No more fighting Terence," I told him after we left the sheriff's office. He nodded his head. I could tell he felt bad about all of it. So I let it go.

"The sheriff wants you kept under house arrest for the next two weeks. You can only leave our property with a parental figure. Sherry and Mark were planning on going up north for about a week or so. Why don't you go with them? You'll be out of the county so technically, you'll be out of Tom's jurisdiction. It'll do you some good to see some different sights. You could probably take one of your buds up with ya," I said. It appeared that a bit of the light returned to his eyes.

When we walked into the house, Mark, Sherry, my youngest daughter Debbie and my wife, Donna was waiting for us.

"Daddy can we leave early and go to the fireworks now," asked Debbie.

"We can do anything you want Pumpkin," I said.

"Debs your dad is tired," said Donna. "He ran the race this morning and didn't have a chance to grab a lunch. He needs to relax for a while and get something to eat. Why don't you all go back to the carnival section, which is where you really want to go anyway, and your dad and I will meet you in the picnic area just when the awards ceremony is starting?"

"What were you doing all this time," she asked.

"We had to go and pick your brother up from the sheriff's office," said Donna.

"But you had brought Daddy home already. Why didn't you eat then? The stove isn't even warm and it doesn't look like you were trying to cook. What were you doing," asked Debbie.

"Uh that's a good idea," said Mark. "Let's go to the carnival."

"I'll stay here with Dad," said Terry. "Maybe we can do something to the cars." Donna looked as if she wanted to strangle her own son, but she didn't say a word.

* * * * * *

Donna

"Well, I'm going to make a light lunch, since we'll probably eat tons of food at the picnic," I said.

Terry went up to his room to change into clothes that he could slide around under a car in. "You're lucky Terry stayed here," I whispered to Greg. "I was gonna suck your dick so hard your balls would shrivel up. Wait until tonight when they go to bed."

"It isn't Terry's fault," he said. "Tom has him under house arrest for the next two weeks. He can only leave the property with a parental figure."

"Lucky you," I said saucily. Although I was trying hard not to show it. I was as nervous as a cat in the dog pound. I had the feeling of being on a very high cliff overlooking a field of very tall, very sharp spikes that I could fall onto at any second. All it would take for me to fall to my doom would be for my son to decide to tell his father what I had done.

I needed to get my son alone, so we could talk this problem out. In the meantime, every aspect of my life took on even greater importance since I could lose it all at the drop of a hat. My home had never seemed more precious to me. My daughters had never seemed more beautiful. My son in law was really a dashing young man. Sherry was lucky to land him. And Greg, I swear the man got sexier every year. Just seeing him casually and effortlessly running that race this morning had me ready just to drop down and screw him in the street.

I wanted ... Make that needed ... Okay craved sex with my husband at that moment more than at any other time in our lives. My pussy was literally dripping for him. Under normal circumstances, I would have told Terry just to get the fuck out of the house. He could go visit his friends or go to a movie. Shit, it was Founder's weekend; there were tons of things he could do in town. He could go to the movies; he could go to the car show; he could go visit his girlfriend and have sex with her. He could do anything he wanted, just as long as it gave me some time alone with Greg. I was so afraid of losing Greg that I just needed to wrap my legs around him and make sure he was still mine.

As I looked at Greg, I noticed that he seemed to be leaning towards one side. His movements seemed stiff, unlike the fluid, youthful movement that I was used to seeing from him. "Honey, are you okay?" I asked.

"I'm fine," he smiled. "My legs are just stiffening up a little bit after the race."

"We've got a few hours before we need to leave," I said. "Maybe you should take a hot bath, and then we could have a quick nap."

"That does sound good," he said. "The nap part sounds really good."

I was sure that Greg just wanted to get me into bed. He probably wanted me to finish that blowjob I had started. And knowing him, he was probably thinking about fucking me too. I was right there with him. I still wanted him badly, but his soaking session in the tub would give me the chance I needed to speak to our son.

I saw Terry heading out the back door. I figured he was heading for the garage to wash or work on his car. I swear that boy got more like Greg every day. I followed him through the door and found him waiting for me on the back porch.

"What," he said angrily. "Why are you following me?"

"I wanted us to talk," I said, trying to sound cheerful.

"I wanted a mother who wasn't a whore," he smirked. "It looks like both of us are gonna be disappointed."

"You can't talk to me like, young man," I said. "I am your mother."

"Which used to me something to me," he said. "I loved you so much, but more than that I respected you and all the things you told me. However, that was before I found out what a liar you were and how all the shit you spouted at me over the years was just lip service. Remember how disappointed you were when I stopped going to church? And remember how you cried the first time I told a lie? None of it means a God damned thing. You talk a good game, but all it is, is talk. I wish you understood just how badly I hate you right now."

His words hurt me. But the look in his eyes hurt me more. He was telling the truth. My own son hated me.

"But I'm not going to tell dad," he said. "At least not yet. But I'm not keeping your secret for you. I'm keeping it for him. I'm keeping it because all telling him how he married a whore would do is hurt him. And I would do anything to spare him that pain. However, in exchange for keeping your dirty little secret, you have to go along with my wishes."