Point of View: Narrator
On his way back from signing the contract, Howie swung by the new property and parked as close to the ledge he planned to build Nick's house on as he could, hiking up the rest of the way. Howie stared out over the ocean view and turned to look at the grass he was surrounded by.
Howie imagined the house standing there at just such an angle to streamline it against wind that would come off the coast, to help keep it cool from the sun. He imagined the landscaping and the stone wall that would completely surround it for privacy purposes. He imagined the patio and a pool and the stairs that wolud be installed to the private beach below. Howie could almost see Nick already asleep on a chair on the patio.
He hadn't seen Nick since the day they'd all gone to see him in the rehab clinic. He felt bad because he'd sort of abandoned Nick, his little brother. But there wasn't a flippin' thing he could've done to help Nick. Nick had to help himself and learn how to grow up - things that, most definitely, he'd learned over the past few months.
So, because of that, Howie wanted to build the most exquisite home that money could buy.
He walked back to the car and pulled out the sketch mock-up and drew in a lima bean shaped pool with a squared off patio and a balcony porch that came around the entire backside of the L of the house and the tourret. He stared at the plans, then looked back up at the empty lot. He held up the drawing and squinted, imagining it on the hill.
"C'mon, punch me."
"I don't really want to punch you..."
"PUNCH ME."
"I don't really wa--"
"Eric, punch me."
Eric gave a pitiful little swing that missed Nick completely. Nick stared at the air where his fist had swiped cautiously, like something BJ or Angel would've done. Leslie knew how to throw a punch. Leslie could've out punched this guy. Angel and BJ cat fought. They would've been a little scarier than this guy only because they had fingernails.
Nick looked up at him. "I have sisters that could've done better than that."
Eric frowned.
"No, dawg, I'm serious. You gotta know how to throw a decent punch. Tell me if you were in a fist fight you wouldn't do that," Nick pleaded.
Eric flushed. "I've never been in a fist fight."
Nick pointed at Eric's purpled eye. "Obviously you have."
"If that counts as a fist fight, then I guess I don't do anything in them," Eric said quietly.
Nick groaned and ran his hand over his hair, sighing. "Okay. Lesson one. Punching."
"I'm not a very violent --"
"It's not about violence, Eric," Nick said, "It's about defending yourself. If those assholes are gonna punch you, you need to be able to make them stop... and what you just did to me just now is only gonna make'em punch you more."
Eric nodded.
"Look, I know you can get violent, you killed your neighbor. You're here, for crying outloud. You did something."
"I hit him with my car."
"Nice."
Eric nodded. "I'd do it again, too." He paused. "I'm just not good with the whole hands-on combat thing. I don't like hurting people."
Nick stared a Eric a moment, trying to consolidate the guy who didnt wanna throw a punch with the guy who would've run over a neighbor a second time if given the chance. It didn't really reconcile in his head.
"Okay look, you gotta hold your hand like this," Nick made a fist and held it out for Eric to see. Eric imitated him. He felt like he was teaching a second grader. "And you gotta put your body into it..." Nick said. He swung and punched the wall. "Ow, fuckin' A..." he muttered, having not thought that move all the way through, and scraping his knuckles up on the brick. He pulled his hand back, "Dammit."
Eric grabbed Nick's hand and used the edge of his shirt to wipe the blood off Nick's knuckles. "See, it is violent," he muttered, holding Nick's hand in his and staring at the torn up knuckles.
Nick withdrew his hand. "No that was about me being stupid," he answered. "Here, swing like I just did, only at me instead of the wall."
"But what if --"
"Dude I'm fine, c'mon."
Eric hesitated.
"Ok you know what, actually, close your eyes a second," Nick instructed. Eric closed his eyes. "Okay. Now. Imagine those guys in your head. Imagine them coming over to the table you're at and they start shit and they're really being assholes..."
Eric frowned.
"Imagine they made fun of you..."
Eric tensed.
"...of someone you loved..."
Eric leaped forward swinging his fist like Nick had into the wall. Nick leaped backwards in surprise, not expecting Eric to come at him so fast or furiously. He ducked the first swing, then stupidly thought Eric had stopped swinging and stood up and Eric's fist clocked him right in the jaw. Nick stumbled and Eric, realizing he'd caught something, opened his eyes. "Oh fuck," he muttered.
Nick was rubbing his jaw bone, "Christ Eric," he said.
"I'm sorry," Eric stammered, "You said to hit you, I just..."
"No dude that was good," Nick said, still rubbing his face, "A little too good actually. Wow, man. Do they give out Tylenol somewhere around here? Jesus..." Nick smiled, "You're a quick learner."
Eric smiled.
