1970 - There's a Hippie on the Highway Read Online Free

making a hissing sound between his teeth. His thin vicious face drained white.
    ‘No one talks that way to me,’ he said. ‘I’ll . . .’
    ‘Oh, run away,’ Harry said. ‘Ask your Mum to give you a bath.’
    ‘Okay, creep,’ Chuck said, his dirty hands closing into fists, ‘you asked for it so you’ll get it. Just for that we’re going to wreck this joint and we’re going to wreck you.’
    ‘I wouldn’t,’ Harry said, shifting his chair back an inch or so more. He was now clear of the table and his hand dropped out of sight onto the club. ‘You’ll only get hurt. I don’t like hurting little boys . . .’
    He stopped short as Chuck caught hold of the nearest table and tipped it over. The glasses and cutlery slid to the floor. The glasses smashed.
    ‘Wreck the joint!’ he yelled. ‘Smash everything!’
    Harry slid out from behind his table and moved so swiftly he was within hitting range before Chuck realised he had left the table. The club smashed down on Chuck’s forearm. The bone snapped, making a sound like the breaking of dry wood. Chuck fell on his knees, screaming and yammering with agony.
    Harry sprang away from Chuck and faced the others. The savage, fighting expression on his face seemed to chill them for they all backed away.
    ‘Beat it!’ he shouted at them. ‘Out . . . fast!’
    As they hesitated, Harry moved again. He made a feinting move towards the youngest of the pack who squealed with fright and jumped back, then his club swished through the air and thudded down on the shoulder of the second eldest kid, driving him to his knees, howling with pain.
    ‘Out!’ Harry shouted again.
    The girl spat in Harry’s direction, then turned and ran. The two younger kids fought each other to get through the doorway. The second eldest kid got to his feet, clutching his shoulder and staggered to the door. As he reached it, Harry’s foot shot out and his heavy walking shoe caught the kid on the tip of his spine, propelling him forward so he crashed down the steps and rolled into the road.
    Harry went over to where Chuck was still kneeling, sobbing and moaning, holding his broken arm.
    ‘Out!’ he said. ‘Fast!’
    Cringing away from him, Chuck staggered to his feet and blundered into the night.
    Harry went out onto the stoop. He watched the pack running down the street. None of them stopped to help Chuck who staggered after them, moaning.
    Harry shut the restaurant door and crossed to the bar. He looked over at the crouching man.
    ‘They’ve gone,’ he said. “I guess you could use a drink.’
    The man rose to his feet. He was still shaking and his eyes were still scared.
    ‘I - I guess they would have killed me if they’d found me,’ he said, leaning against the bar.
    ‘Take it easy.’ To give him time to recover his nerve, Harry went over to the upset table and set it on its feet.
    Maria, followed by her father who was quaking a little, came out of the kitchen ‘I’m sorry about that,’ Harry said to Maria. ‘I shouldn’t have let him smash the glasses.’
    ‘You were wonderful! I saw everything!’ Maria looked adoringly at him. ‘If you hadn’t been here we wouldn’t have had a thing left.’
    Harry grinned.
    ‘Can you take care of our friend? He’s got a nasty cut.’
    Maria surveyed the cut, nodded and ran into the kitchen.
    Morelli caught hold of Harry’s hand and pumped it vigorously.
    ‘That was a fine thing you did! Everyone around here is scared of that trash. Thank you, mister. We need men like you.’
    Embarrassed, Harry said, ‘Let’s all have a drink.’ He turned to the man with the guitar. ‘How about a Scotch?’
    ‘I’m Randy Roache,’ the man said$ and thrust out his hand. ‘Yeah! I sure could use a Scotch.’
    ‘Harry Mitchell,’ Harry said and shook hands. ‘Let’s all have a Scotch.’
    Beaming, Morelli set up the drinks as Maria returned with a bowl of hot water, a towel and some adhesive plaster. She quickly stopped the bleeding and