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Authors: J. G. Faherty
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backed away, all traces of defiance gone from his face. “No, that’s okay. I got time. I’ll walk.”
Harry let his own smile drop from his face. “I ain’t askin’. Get in the car.”
Billy looked at the open door, his eyes narrowed. “I’ve only got a few minutes for lunch.”
“Lunch is over,” Cullen said, slapping the bag and soda to the ground. “Get in.”
“Hey!”
Harry grabbed Billy Ray’s arm and twisted it. Placing his lips next to Billy’s ear, he whispered, “Behave yourself and you’ll be back to work before Reverend Christian even notices you’re late. But if you raise a fuss, I guarantee you’ll be takin’ your meals through a straw.”
He watched the arrogance drain away from Billy Ray’s eyes. The younger man stopped struggling and ducked down to enter the car. Harry considered slamming his head against the edge of door frame, but a quick glance around showed too many people already gathered on the sidewalk, enjoying the unexpected afternoon show.
As he drove, Harry sang an off-key rendition of “Dry Bones.”
“Dem bones, dem bones gonna walk around. Now hear the word of the Lord!”
“Yeah! That’s what I’m talkin’ about.” Cullen clapped his hands and joined in on the song.
Instead of turning left at the corner of Main and State, Harry drove straight through the light, past Perpetual Hope Cemetery and toward the river.
Billy banged his fist on the wire mesh divider. “Where’re you going? The church is back that way.”
“Sit back and shut up, asswipe.” Harry felt something hot rising up inside him, something the car’s air conditioning couldn’t do a thing about. “We’re takin’ the long way.”
“What the hell—?”
“I said SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Harry let his anger—a righteous anger, as Reverend Christian liked to say—burst forth.
Billy fell back from the grill, as if pushed by the force of Harry’s words, and squeezed himself into the corner of the seat and door.
When they reached a stretch of road bordered by farmland on both sides, Harry pulled over and shut off the car. He got out and opened the back door. “Let’s you and me have a chat, Billy-boy.”
Billy pushed himself across the seat to the other side of the car. “No way. I can talk fine from back here.”
Deputy Cullen opened the other door, dragged Billy out, and slammed him against the back fender.
“Chief wants to have a talk. You’re gonna talk, shit-for-brains.”
“I didn’t do nothin’. You—”
Cullen slammed a fist into Billy’s stomach, doubling him over. Billy’s breath whooshed out and he fell to his knees, gasping and retching.
Grabbing him by the shirt, Showalter pulled him to his feet and leaned him back against the car.
“Heard you got yourself a new friend in town.”
His voice weak and full of pain, Billy said, “What? Who?”
“That’s what I want to know, fuck-face. Tall, Mexican-looking fellow with lots of tattoos.”
Billy shook his head. “Don’t know anyone like that.”
“Yeah? Maybe this’ll jog your memory.” Harry drove his knee up into Billy’s groin and was rewarded with a scream as the skinny man doubled over again. Before he could fall, Harry grabbed his arm and punched him in the side of the face, making sure his old high school ring made a solid connection.
Billy collapsed, landing on his side, his knees drawn up to his chest, one hand cradling his balls while the other went to his cheek.
Cullen barked crazy laughter. “Shit! You laid him out but good!”
“Know who I’m talkin’ about now?” Harry prodded him with one steel-toed work shoe.
Billy nodded, tried to speak, but nothing came out except a choking sound.
“That’s okay, you take a minute.”
“Tony...Lopez,” Billy said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He took a deep breath before continuing. “I owe him...money. Lost a bet. That’s why I stayed in town. Need a job to pay him off.”
“What I heard, he don’t look like no
Harry let his own smile drop from his face. “I ain’t askin’. Get in the car.”
Billy looked at the open door, his eyes narrowed. “I’ve only got a few minutes for lunch.”
“Lunch is over,” Cullen said, slapping the bag and soda to the ground. “Get in.”
“Hey!”
Harry grabbed Billy Ray’s arm and twisted it. Placing his lips next to Billy’s ear, he whispered, “Behave yourself and you’ll be back to work before Reverend Christian even notices you’re late. But if you raise a fuss, I guarantee you’ll be takin’ your meals through a straw.”
He watched the arrogance drain away from Billy Ray’s eyes. The younger man stopped struggling and ducked down to enter the car. Harry considered slamming his head against the edge of door frame, but a quick glance around showed too many people already gathered on the sidewalk, enjoying the unexpected afternoon show.
As he drove, Harry sang an off-key rendition of “Dry Bones.”
“Dem bones, dem bones gonna walk around. Now hear the word of the Lord!”
“Yeah! That’s what I’m talkin’ about.” Cullen clapped his hands and joined in on the song.
Instead of turning left at the corner of Main and State, Harry drove straight through the light, past Perpetual Hope Cemetery and toward the river.
Billy banged his fist on the wire mesh divider. “Where’re you going? The church is back that way.”
“Sit back and shut up, asswipe.” Harry felt something hot rising up inside him, something the car’s air conditioning couldn’t do a thing about. “We’re takin’ the long way.”
“What the hell—?”
“I said SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Harry let his anger—a righteous anger, as Reverend Christian liked to say—burst forth.
Billy fell back from the grill, as if pushed by the force of Harry’s words, and squeezed himself into the corner of the seat and door.
When they reached a stretch of road bordered by farmland on both sides, Harry pulled over and shut off the car. He got out and opened the back door. “Let’s you and me have a chat, Billy-boy.”
Billy pushed himself across the seat to the other side of the car. “No way. I can talk fine from back here.”
Deputy Cullen opened the other door, dragged Billy out, and slammed him against the back fender.
“Chief wants to have a talk. You’re gonna talk, shit-for-brains.”
“I didn’t do nothin’. You—”
Cullen slammed a fist into Billy’s stomach, doubling him over. Billy’s breath whooshed out and he fell to his knees, gasping and retching.
Grabbing him by the shirt, Showalter pulled him to his feet and leaned him back against the car.
“Heard you got yourself a new friend in town.”
His voice weak and full of pain, Billy said, “What? Who?”
“That’s what I want to know, fuck-face. Tall, Mexican-looking fellow with lots of tattoos.”
Billy shook his head. “Don’t know anyone like that.”
“Yeah? Maybe this’ll jog your memory.” Harry drove his knee up into Billy’s groin and was rewarded with a scream as the skinny man doubled over again. Before he could fall, Harry grabbed his arm and punched him in the side of the face, making sure his old high school ring made a solid connection.
Billy collapsed, landing on his side, his knees drawn up to his chest, one hand cradling his balls while the other went to his cheek.
Cullen barked crazy laughter. “Shit! You laid him out but good!”
“Know who I’m talkin’ about now?” Harry prodded him with one steel-toed work shoe.
Billy nodded, tried to speak, but nothing came out except a choking sound.
“That’s okay, you take a minute.”
“Tony...Lopez,” Billy said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He took a deep breath before continuing. “I owe him...money. Lost a bet. That’s why I stayed in town. Need a job to pay him off.”
“What I heard, he don’t look like no
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