Against All Enemies
Excerpt #3, from Chapter 12

  SETTING: In 1979, seventeen years old, I was home in Wolcott, Connecticut, (map) on leave from the Marines, and struggling with my smouldering rage, obsessively revisiting the places and events that derailed my life.

     One day Kenny and I were riding around town and passed by Lake Scovill.

     “Remember when we worked at that camp, Tony? God, that seems like such a long time ago, doesn’t it? You ever run into those guys again?”

      My heart lurched into high gear, pounding, hammering against my rib cage. Although it was Tom and I who ended up in that house in the Bronx, Kenny was my closest friend. He had saved my life that summer, when I nearly fell off the water tower. I wanted to share with him what had happened. It seemed disloyal not to. The pounding in my chest was the truth, demanding to be heard. But how to start?

     “Kenny, pull over a sec!”

    “What?”

     “Just pull the hell over, okay? Just do it!”
He found a broad spot on the shoulder and set the brake.

     “You gonna puke or something? Cause if you are, please open the door first.”

     “No. It’s not like that.” I did feel a little nauseous, but not enough to toss. “I’ve got something to tell you. It’s really important.” I leaned over and shut off the radio. I could feel him watching me intently. I wasn’t ready to return the look. I stared out the window.

     “It’s messed up. It’s really messed up. I just have to get it off my chest. You’re my best friend, and I don’t wanna have any secrets.”

     “It’s okay, Tony. You’re my best buddy, too. No matter what. Semper Fi, right?”

     I first made him promise never to repeat what I was going to tell him to Tom, since Tom and I had a deal. I felt bad about breaking my promise, but this was something else with Kenny. Then I told him the whole story, leaving out the nastier details.

     Kenny sat speechless, nodding slightly, and staring at the steering wheel.

     “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. I mean, this guy was a priest. I can’t stop thinking about what they did to us.”