I’d like to say I was prepared to fight him, but I was no idiot. My training in the Navy and specifically the SEAL class taught me when to evade. This was one of those times. I quickly spun and intended to dart back into the bar, when I felt the hook of the crowbar around my ankle, tripping me on my first step. I fell to the hard, icy asphalt and immediately rolled to my side, just as a blow struck the pavement where I had been lying.

I was able to scramble forward and gain my footing, but now I was facing my attacker and I didn’t have an easy way to run. He stepped forward with confidence because he was wearing decent boots. I feinted left, then tried to jump to my right. The attacker fell for it at first, and swung the crowbar wildly as I tried to slip past him.

It caught my forehead with a glancing blow, opening up a gash. Almost immediately blood started to run down my forehead into my eyes. I took a second to wipe it with my sleeve and before I was finished, the attacker was on me again with the crowbar over his head. This time I jumped back and rolled over the hood of a newer Chevy.

As the attacker swung down with his crowbar, I slid off the hood, and the curved part of the crowbar punctured the metal, locking the attacker’s weapon in place. I knew this was my one chance so I kicked hard, catching the ski-masked man on his left side and knocking him to the ground.

It was a good, solid kick and the only thing that protected him was his padded jacket. I rushed forward, trying to take advantage of my good luck.

The man was able to fend me off and send me slipping back onto the icy asphalt. Then he turned and started to run across the street and out of sight.

I sat there for a minute, catching my breath and assessing my injury. As I stood up, holding my forehead, I noticed a Newburgh police cruiser pulling into the parking lot.

They were a little late, but I was still happy to see them.

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

THE DRIVER OF the patrol car was a huge, bald black man, and his partner was a scrawny white guy with an odd-looking mustache that tilted at an angle to the right side of his face. They kept their distance as they asked a few questions and the white guy handed me some gauze to put on my forehead.

The black officer said, “We had a complaint about a disturbance in the area. You fit the description of the assailant pretty well.”

“Assailant! I’m the victim. Can’t you see this blood?”