The Hardest Thing

was getting kind of boring, and I was ready to punch my way out of it, but I thought I’d give the asshole one last chance to back down. “What do you want?” I said. “I don’t have all day.”
    “I bet you don’t,” said Beardy, looking me up and down. “Guess guys like you have a lot of cock to suck, huh?”
    One false move, buster…
    “Why don’t you get your boyfriend to suck my buddy Hank’s dick for starters?”
    So that was their game, a little restroom rape to pass the time. Picking on queers as a way of getting their rocks off without having to admit they were gay themselves. I know the strategy. Seen it in the armed forces often enough. Probably done it myself.
    “Get out of here,” I said, keeping my voice low, “before I bust your head.”
    “Wooooh!” A high, mocking sound. Big Hank sniggered again, showing crooked teeth.
    “Before you bust my head? Now that ain’t very friendly, queer boy.” Boy again. Beardy needed to get glasses—if, that is, I decided to leave both his eyes in working order. A quick gouge would have one of them rolling around in the hand basin.
    Hank was picking at his crotch. His jeans were loose and worn, but I could see that he was packing some serious meat.
    “So what’s it to be, ladies?” That was it; he’d crossed the line. “You suck my buddy’s dick, or we kick the shit out of you?”

    “Don’t much like either of those choices.,”
    “You don’t? Well, that’s too bad.” Beardy grabbed my wrist; I think he was planning to twist my arm back and bring me to my knees. That’s where the old combat training kicked in, and before he knew what was happening his feet were kicked out from under him, he turned 180 degrees through the air and landed on the wet bathroom floor, taking the fall on his left elbow. Nasty place to hit. Fractures easily, and that can really fuck your arm up. I didn’t hear a crack; maybe he was lucky.
    Hank watched his pal’s unscheduled flight and winced as he hit the deck. Beardy was winded and kicked a little as he fought for breath.
    “Guess you picked on the wrong ladies,” I said.
    “Jeez, Bill, you okay?” Hank and Bill—sounds like an old-time vaudeville act, two dumb rednecks, slapstick and song.
    “I…I…” Bill was red in the face, wheezing like a man who’s had a heart attack. Hank looked frightened.
    “Mister, we didn’t mean no harm.”
    “No shit.”
    “We were just foolin’ around.”
    “This your idea of foolin’ around? Threatening guys in toilets?”
    He backed toward the door with his hands out in front of him. “Come on, Bill. Let’s go.”
    But Bill was going nowhere. He managed to take a ragged breath, then vomited over the bathroom floor.
    “Oh, Christ, Billy, you okay?” Hank was down on his knees beside him. He looked up at me with terror in his eyes. “What you done to him, mister? You near killed him.”

    “He’ll live.”
    “Bill. Come on, Bill.” Hank rocked his buddy’s shoulder—probably not the best thing to do to a man in danger of choking on his own vomit, but he meant well. The poor sap had sure fallen in with some bad company. I threw some paper towels down to him.
    “Clean him up,” I said. “He’ll be okay. Now if you don’t mind, we’ll just finish off and get going.”
    Hank dabbed Bill’s mouth. As soon as Bill was able to speak, he hissed, “Cocksucking bastard.” I thought about kicking him in the stomach.
    “Shut up, Bill!” said Hank. “He don’t mean it, sir.” Sir— that made a change from “boy” and “ladies.”
    “Okay, Big Man. You keep old Bill quiet, and we’ll all be friends. Come on, Jody. Let’s get going.”
    Bill groaned and sat up, clutching his elbow on one hand, his gut in the other. “Shit, man, what you do that for?”
    I squirted some soap out of the dispenser and started lathering it up between my hands. “I don’t take too kindly to being threatened and insulted, pal. So you just fuck off like a good little boy , and we’ll forget it ever happened.”
    Jody stepped back to the sink and started rinsing the soap off his body.
    We needed to get back on the road, but we also didn’t want these guys saying anything about meeting two queer out-of-towners at that gas station. A little insurance might do the trick and provide some entertainment in the meantime. “You better get out of those shorts,” I said to Jody. “They’re wet through.”
    He caught my eye and did as I suggested, bending
right down