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Dad wanted to make our trip worth while. He wanted to rent a car and find some more 'pretty stones' so that the enterprise would be even more profitable.I was three years old and looked four. Mom was to stay in the capital and shop with the rest of our family while we spent three or four days ensuring the success of the clinic. Lusa, now ten, wanted to go with us and considered me her husband in all matters. Dad was still dad and the males ruled the roost in our country. Mom didn't say so but she made it known that it was done with her approval. Eventually dad had his way but would have to pay for it later one way or another.With gasoline still rationed I pushed the car much faster than it would normally go when the engine set just above idle. This allowed our meagre supplies to be stretched even further. We bought food and stayed in a tent to keep our presence unknown. It was fun to go camping and who would begrudge a father and son doing so?In a decidedly rural area we were. She wouldn't be catching an early bus this week! This was going to be a long haul!"She's a dirty fighter " Gloria whispered to her second. "Any advice?" Don't ask me! You're the expert. You're the fighter. Me? I just cool you down and wipe the blood away, except you don't want the blood wiped off." Thanks a fucking million!" And the bell went and Gloria went into battle once more. The other girl got into a clinch and head-butted our doughty heroine, cutting her open above the right eye. Gloria shoved her away and lashed out with a devastating left that connected, more by luck than any cool considered judgment. The other girl went down. There was no referee to spoil the fun by insisting on fair play. The promoter, Monty, started the count and Gloria, silly girl, stood in a neutral corner.The enemy was up at a count of eight and Gloria closed with her again. Her face was a mess by this time. Blood was pouring out of the cut and threatening to obscure her vision. She still looked great,.
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And guess what I was doing there? Give you three and the first two don’t count. My dogs, Maddie and Barf, had come looking for me. I could hear them scratching at the door outside and whimpering. They must have gotten out of their pen and come looking for me when I left home to meet her here. It’s always a woman, ain’t it? This one was particularly vicious, though. She had used me to make her boyfriend jealous. It had succeeded beyond her wildest dreams, too. She lay in a pool of blood next to me, her head split open like a cantaloupe by the crowbar I was now grasping in my right hand. I got up, groaning as I did so, feeling pain in places I didn’t even know I had. I reached over and felt her body. It was still warm so, I hadn’t been out that long. Staggering to my feet, I made my way to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I felt a hell of a lot worse than I looked. The son-of-a-bitch knew his business, he knew where to hit. He had left no discernable marks. I turned on.

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