Walter Grey was everybody’s issue. Nobody liked him. He didn’t even quite like himself. He had the unsteady nerve to look for fights. He kind of enjoyed the brute reality of getting a punch to the face.
Religiously he was brought up in many churches. But at a young age, he spent most of his time outdoors and the calling of true nature was deified in his bones more than standing around waiting to hear a message.
He especially enjoyed battling animals. But not to an abusive extent. Unless they were abusive toward him. The case in which was subtle or tough to decide if an onlooker were taking notice, because his temper was short and his senses were wired drastically different.
He wasn’t a lover in any sense of the word. That word wore down for him at too young an age.
There was a tree where goats would buck their heads to stimulate their horns. This was the thing that made the most sense to Walter Grey. A little fighting in the right moment at the right time was all he ever wanted. There were a lot of fights that got out of hand and were awful for him, his reputation, and everyone else. But he was on the search for the perfect fight. It was as if God chose him to fulfill the role of putting brute force back to the way in which he saw absolute nature.
He ran up hills steeper than stairs. Just to get him kind of worn down. He never slept better than after a little bit of roughing around. And the best bump in the head was brought upon his opponents.
Sometimes he went into the fight just to get the perfect punch thrown at him. He had built a tolerance in his noggin and the pain actually brought him an intriguing pleasure. He’d almost be bucking into the hands of his opponents just to enhance the sensation. If any man were to grow horns on his head, it would be Walter Grey. But what would God say when he was designed this way?
Walter Grey ended up jailed. Behind bars that he’d bent by the power of his head, it was later decided that he were to be left for dead. Nobody visited him. Until one day a pastor came in to talk to him. The pastor was talking to all the inmates to see where they would benefit once they were free again.
‘I like it behind bars pastor. I can buck at the bars and get fed. Talk to the guards anyway I want to and laugh at old jokes from long ago.’
‘ We found a job for you Walter. You’re going to be our college football coach. We found a couple college kids who have that same knack for bumping into things with their noggin. We have a cot you can stay in. With three meals a day and you can teach these kids how to use your head for something else besides a hat rack and a way of getting in trouble. You in?’
‘Yes sir. Put me in pastor coach sir.’
‘Amen?’
‘Amen.’
Walter Grey ended up leading his teams to a few seasons with high consecutive wins and even a championship. Only went back to jail to fix the bars by bashing them in from the other side. He lived as happily ever after as his strange head could endure.
The pastor remembered him from when he was three. When he rammed his head into the bench seat in front of him and then the podium and the walls when he was in trouble.
Short Stories
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