I make my way to the pub’s veranda. I felt a bullet rush towards me. It was the old man. I had something blocking my airway. I was choking on my own spit. I haven’t even thrown a punch, yet I can see him quiver.

“Just pull yourself together,” I say harshly.

“You’ve done ’im over! What’ve you been doin’ to my boy?” Says the old man.

“Pickin’ him up off the side of the road […] He’s hurt, you bloody idiot!” I say with irritation.

The man followed me behind the truck. The rider’s head vibrated like an echo in an empty room.

‘Why“Why did that man hit his son for getting hurt?” Albie asked.

“I don’t know, boy,” I say as I sigh.

“Would you do that to me?” Albie asked.

I brake instantly. “No, Lord. God A’ mighty, no!’no!” I promised, Albie. I softly press my knuckles on Albie’s cheek. Albie misunderstood the old man’s actions. He did care.