The other two guards laughed. “This ought to be fun.”
“No, we’re not alike,” Wyatt said quietly. “That’s where you’re wrong. The boys at the Huracan are out for fun and they were invitin’ you to join in. No animosity and nothin’ to prove, just a good Saturday night bataille. Me, I’m dead serious about teachin’ you some manners, there’s no funnin’ in my mind at all. Swamp rats know how to treat women, and apparently you need to learn that lesson.”
“You’re going to be one sorry rat,” Larry said, and circled Wyatt, his hands coming up in the classic boxer’s stance. “I’m so sick of all of you, thinking you’re so tough just because you grew up around alligators. I’ll bet that’s what they call you around these parts – Gator.” He said the name in a sneering taunt.
“No, that would be my brother, and you should be damn glad he’s not here. He wouldn’ be quite so gentle as I’m goin’ to be.” Wyatt nodded at the man’s boot. “If you think you’re goin’ to make your try for that holdout gun, all bets are off.”
Larry scowled at him. “I won’t need a gun for this.” He stepped in close and fired off three rapid punches at Wyatt’s face.
Wyatt blocked all three, and delivered a hard right to the man’s belly, punching deep, driving the air from his lungs and letting him know it was a punishment, not a dance. The breath exploded out of Larry and he stumbled back, doubling over. Wyatt slammed an elbow on his back, driving him straight to the ground. He stepped back.
“The thing you should know comin’ into a neighborhood, Larry,” he said, his voice gentle, as if he was a mother instructing a child, “you treat the people decent. That’s all, just decent. And you don’ ever put your hands on old ladies or any woman for that matter. It just isn’ done.”
Larry got to his feet slowly, this time looking at Wyatt warily. His two friends stopped laughing, watching as he staggered a little. All traces of amusement and contempt were gone from Larry’s face.
Wyatt let him get his feet under him and set himself back in his warrior’s stance. He exploded into action, gliding in, hitting Larry hard with two straight rights to the left eye, both shockingly hard, knocking Larry’s head back rapidly. The third punch was a left roundhouse to the jaw. Larry’s body shuddered. His legs turned to rubber and he went down. Wyatt stepped back a second time. He wasn’t even breathing hard and he hadn’t broken a sweat.
“You might want to drop by Grand-mere’s house and apologize. She’s hell on wheels with a gun, but if you come by all sorry, with your tail tucked between your legs, she’ll feed you and forgive you, because that’s what we do here.” The soft voice changed. “Get up. We’re not nearly finished.”
Larry rolled over and stared up at the night sky. “You hit like a damn jackhammer.” His left eye was already swollen shut. “I’ve never been punched that hard in my life. I didn’t know anyone could hit that hard.”
“Swamp rats learn how to punch on the way outa their mama’s womb. Stand up. And for the record, I’m takin’ it easy on you.”
Larry held up his hand. “I’m done, man. I get it. I’ll apologize. The place was crazy that day and she was just in the way.”
Wyatt reached down and yanked him off the ground with one hand as he struck three more times in the mouth with the other. He dragged Larry close to him, looking eye to eye. “This is our land. You don’ own anythin’ beyond that fence. Those acres of plants belong to the people of the bayou. We use them for medicine. You don’ come onto our land and dictate to us when we can harvest them. She wasn’ in your way. You were in her way.”
Wyatt released Larry’s shirt and the man dropped again to ground. The earth beneath them shivered. It was a small tremor, but it was there, indicating Wyatt’s temper was rising, not diminishing.
“Wyatt, don’t get all crazy on us,” Malichai warned. “You don’t want to bring their house down.”
“I want Nonny’s knife. That knife is important to her, you thief.”
Larry rolled over, glaring with his one good eye. Blood bubbled around his split lip and inside his mouth. “You want her knife?” He yanked the knife from his boot and stood up, staggering a little. “Come and get it.”
“Oh, now that’s just downright stupid,” Wyatt said softly. “Real stupid. How do you think we killed the food we ate? Do you really think we had the money for bullets? I cut my teeth on knives, killin’ game, fightin’ with my friends and protectin’ our property. You really don’ learn, do you? That’s called bein’ too stupid to live. You don’ choose a man’s weapon and then expect to live through the fight.”