Jake and Logan Creed were brothers in every sense of the word. They were like best friends. They went everywhere together almost. The only time they were ever really apart was when Jake went to work and Logan went to school. They’re father, Gary, had left them about 6 months ago to ‘make a new life’ for himself. They’re mother, Lori, had died about a year before they’re father left. He had started drinking again after that. The boys never said so out loud, but they were glad he left. Despite the money being scarce, they were glad. Just so long as he never hurt them again. Sure, he called once in a while, sent money on birthdays, wrote letters. But he was no longer a father to them. Jake was thankful at least that his mother didn’t have to see what happened to their household after her death. It was bad enough before…the drinking binges, smacking the boys around… the only quiet time was when their father left to go on the road. He was a long haul trucker, a good provider but mean as all get out. He settled down a little when Lori got cancer. He helped provide for his family, the boys both took jobs at the local auto shop. Times were tough all over for them that year. 1961. It didn’t take long for their mother’s condition to deteriorate. But they made it through. Jake stayed in and out of school so he could stay home and help around the house. Jake was big. He was about 6’1” and very well built. Most times he couldn’t find shirts big enough for him, and if he did then his muscles made them tight on him. He had black hair to go along with his black eyes. He had thick, dark, intimidating eyebrows. He normally kept to himself, didn’t talk much. Logan was the only person he felt he could open up to. Logan was almost as tall as his brother. He was muscular and cut just like Jake. He had brown hair with natural blond highlights that he kept in a slicked back duck tail all the time. His eyes reminded you of ice. They were blue but they had a glow to them all their own. The glow dimmed, just slightly, after both of his parents were gone. Unlike his brother, Logan loved to talk. Especially to girls. Sometimes he got in trouble for flirting with high-class girls. Both boys grew old long before they should have. Later on, their father made them both take jobs. Jake was the one who made the funeral arrangements, called the family when his mother passed away. He never cried. Logan let a few tears roll from his eyes but never really let anything show. Jake had quit crying shortly after his father started to smack the boys around. He refused to show anybody how he felt. Jake was the oldest. He was now a senior in high school and head of the household at age 19. Logan was a junior in high school. He had just turned 17 a few months ago. Both boys played football for Hammondville High School. The mighty Bulldogs. Jake hardly ever made it to practice because he had to work, but he and Logan were such good players that the coaches let it slide. They were known by most as ‘Thunder and Lightning’. Jake was ‘Thunder’ because when he made a tackle it seemed like the earth shook. Or at least that’s what his opponents thought. He sometimes even played as wide receiver. Logan was ‘Lightning’ because he could throw the ball like a streak of lightning. They were from the poor side of town. They often heard their names followed by ‘hood’ or ‘greaser’. Neither of them cared. Yeah, sometimes they shoplifted, but only when they really needed it. Money was tight and sometimes if you really need something it’s okay to take a loaner. There was only a handful of times that they didn’t get away with it. That put them in the local police station. It only had 3 cells because most of the time no one cared to cause a ruckus. Most weekends the cells would be scattered with teenagers. The high class, who Jake often referred to as Lettermans when he wasn’t cursing them, and the white trash. Jake and Logan were pretty well known by the police, especially the sheriff, Mack Hayes. Mack always kept an eye out for them, but at the same time he looked after them. They weren’t exactly angels, but they weren’t bad kids either. They were just teenagers of the 60’s. Mack never really introduced himself to them, but he knew who they were. They didn’t really know who he was but they had heard stories about the sheriff and weren’t in a big hurry to meet him. The cops let them get away with a lot because they knew the boys had it rough. Jake and Logan took advantage of that every chance they could. There were often rumbles and scruffs that landed a lot of kids in the jail. That happened so often, it was really becoming routine. Most every weekend somebody would say something about a girl of a guy, or somebody’s car would get keyed and the finger would get pointed at the wrong person. Then came the visit from the police.

Tonight was one of those nights. This time it was Jake and Logan who started the ruckus. Right in the middle of the best hang out in Hammondville. Jerky’s

Restaurant and Game Room. Logan came up behind a high-class couple sitting at the bar, a cheerleader and a good friend of the captain of the football team. Logan tapped the football player on the shoulder.

“This your gal, Riley?” Logan asked in a fake inquisitive voice, with eyebrows raised.

Riley turned slowly from the fries and milkshake that he and Mary Lucas were sharing.

“Yeah,” Riley said, as he slipped an arm around Mary’s shoulders. ”What’s it to you?”

“Oh nothin’,” Logan smiled. “She sure is purty to look at is all.”

Mary grinned and blushed. Riley’s face got a slightly redder tint to it as he gritted his teeth.

“I’ll bet she kisses good, too.” With that Logan dipped Mary backward and kissed her right square on the lips. Riley jumped to his feet in a rage, followed by others who had been watching the whole thing unfold. Logan let out a wild holler. He was halfway out the door of the restaurant when Riley grabbed hold of the back of his shirt. Suddenly Jake appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and popped Riley hard on the jaw with a huge fist. After that it was greaser vs. letterman. The war zone spilled out into the parking lot. Those who weren’t fighting were rooting others on. There were screams and giggles from the girls. One of the waitresses fell flat on her seat as her skate hit a pebble the wrong way. The manager called the police. Again. Riley and Logan were duking it out. Three others had ganged up on Jake, but he had made quick work of two of them already. Logan’s white shirt was dotted with blood, some his own, some not. Jake was glad he had worn his boots tonight. They made excellent weapons when aimed at the right spot. The captain of the football team, Brent Sykes, finally saw his way into the action. He was broad shouldered and well built. He didn’t like Jake at all. Didn’t care for his attitude. He didn’t like the fact that Jake might be a better football player than he was. He sought out and found Jake, sliding across the hood of a Ford to come to the aid of a friend. Brent ran over and leaned across the hood of the car. He hooked his arm around Jake’s throat and yanked him back over the hood. Jake’s black cowboy hat fell to the ground and Brent had no idea what a mistake he’d made by accidentally stepping on it. He soon found out. Most of the kids had hurried out before the cops showed. The few that remained were still hootin’ and hollerin’ at the scrap. Logan’s normally slicked back hair was now sticking up in a number of places, his nose was bloodied. He figured it was probably broken again. Jake’s left eye was swollen and red. It would turn blue later.

The police jumped into the scene and tried to calm the crowd down. They only sent three cars and 7 cops. When this didn’t work they began to try and handcuff the worst troublemakers. Deputy Grider was in a battle stance in front of Logan. Logan would dart one way, Deputy Grider would follow. Logan moved this way and that, Grider followed his every move. Grider had his pair of handcuffs in a fist.

“Cut it out, Creed!” Grider said, annoyed. He’d been through all this before. “You know where yer goin’. Make it easy for me at least.”

“Where’d be the fun in that, Joe?” Logan pretty well knew all the local cops by first names. He stopped with one hand on his hip, ran the other hand through his thick blond mane, then jumped into the air, straight toward Deputy Grider.

Jake on the other hand, was once again being ganged up on, this time by police. One of them grabbed him by the shirt collar and was reeled away by Jake’s forceful push. Another policeman was about to punch him when Jake’s good friend, Chuck Wright, leapt onto the cop’s back. Chuck was not a small guy and the weight of him sent Chuck and the cop crashing to the ground. Jake was knocked to the ground by a hard tackle and felt a handcuff snap closed on his right hand, then slowly around his left. Another deputy was standing over him.

“Calm yerself, boy!” Someone got ahold of the cop handcuffing Jake with a pair of brass knucks. The deputy above him let his jaw drop along with his guard. That was the only opportunity Jake needed. He brought his right boot up. Hard. He caught the deputy right between the legs. The cop made a strange noise as he lowered himself, knees clamped, to the ground. Jake groped the bumper of a cop car beside him and pulled himself up. He was now bleeding from his mouth and nose. He saw people running scared, people being loaded into police cars, and people still fighting cops. Riley was hitting Chuck across the face while a cop had him handcuffed. He saw that Brent Sykes had already given up, but he was being led to a cop car. Logan suddenly popped around a corner of Jerky’s , out of breath. He had been running in circles around the building with two cops tailing him all the way. He too had handcuffs on him, but only around one wrist. This was the best, and worst, scrap yet… and it was all Logan’s fault. The two boys looked at each other and grinned wide. Deputy Joe Grider wrapped his arms around Logan’s midriff and slammed him into the side of a car. Jake hopped on the trunk of the cop car he was leaning on, then went the rest of the way up to the roof. He raised his handcuffed hands above his head and let out a rebel yell.

“Yee-haaaww!” As a cop was heading his way up on top of the car, Jake made his way down. The car’s back doors were both open. He crawled through them, trailed by the Deputy whom he had kicked in the jewels. As soon as he got out he booted the door shut with one foot. The door conked the deputy in the forehead.

It was as if he just materialized out of the night sky itself. A man, the size of a house, and just as stout somehow appeared in front of Jake. A cowboy hat pulled low covered his face. He was wearing a long brown trench coat that flapped behind him like demon wings. Jake hardly had time to register that there was a man in front of him, then he ran into the man. Jake fell flat on his butt. The man wasn’t even fazed. A small light, from a cigarette in his mouth, glinted off a badge on his chest. It was the sheriff. Jake noticed a long piece of metal in his right hand, propped over his shoulder. He raised the metal skyward.

The loud boom and spark of a shotgun blast tore through the noise of the struggles. Everyone stopped, stock-still. The sudden stillness in the night was like magic. Jake’s eyes locked on the sheriff.

“Well,” the sheriff said in a bass low voice as he flicked his cigarette to the side. “I reckon ya’ll know what happens next.”

Those who weren’t in the fight got in their cars and left. Those who were in the fight but were smart enough to cool it when the fuzz set in, also got to leave. Those who just refused to quit were given police escorts to the cop cars. Jake still lay in that spot, looking up at this huge stranger, his hat cocked sideways.

“You gonna get in that car yerself,” the sheriff said, “or do I need to help ya?”

The sheriff thumbed his cowboy hat skyward, just enough to show his face. He was grinning. Jake was shocked at what he found. It was as if he was looking in a mirror turned ahead 30 years. The sheriff had the same thick eyebrows, the same black eyes. The only difference was that the sheriff’s face was more craggy and worn looking than Jake’s. Sure, there was some differences but it was amazing nonetheless.

“Uh,” Jake stammered. “Yeah. Yeah.” With that he raised his aching body slowly into the car and sat down, keeping his eyes locked with the sheriff’s. Logan was somewhere in another car, cussing out Deputy Grider for putting the cuffs on too tight. The sheriff climbed into the car, a tight squeeze for a big man. He started the car and pulled onto the highway, followed by the other 2 cars filled with kids. Jake wondered why he was alone and the other cars were full, but he didn’t say anything.

“By the way,” the sheriff said, never taking his eyes from the road, “my name’s Mack. Mack Hayes.”

“Jake.” He replied, staring out the window.

“I know who ya are. And now, you know me.”