hardball.
Willy folded the slice of cheese in half, then folded it again, making a small, thick square. He stuck it into his mouth.
Across the street, the prick was rushing across Marty’s front yard. He disappeared around a corner of the house.
‘Gonna sneak up on me?’ Willy asked with his mouthful of cheese. ‘Real tricky, you dumb-ass shit.’
He got up from the table. His fingers were slippery from the cheese. He wiped them on his jeans and headed for the door. ‘So long, sweet stuff,’ he said to Hedda.
Outside, the hot night air smelled like moist grass. A welcome change from the bad air of the kitchen.
The prick was nowhere to be seen.
Walking with a casual pace, Willy crossed the street.
He opened the back door of the Ford, climbed in, and shut it quietly.
Kneeling on the floor, he peered out the window at Marty’s house.
A light came on in an upstairs window.
Marty’s window?
Willy couldn’t remember what her bedroom had looked like, that morning ten years ago. He only remembered that it had been very sunny. Very bright and sunny, making Marty’s hair shine. Her face had gotten sweaty. There were tiny specks of sweat above her lip. They glistened in the sunlight. She had tears on her cheeks. Her eyelashes stuck together, making little, curly points.
The light in the upstairs window went off.
Willy took the knife from his pocket and opened its blade.
18
‘What the hell?’ Roger Sanderson knew it was no mirage. It was a real live girl walking slowly through the darkness, her head down. She wore a paisley dress that was torn behind the right shoulder. Roger slowed down and pressed a switch to lower the passenger window.
The girl turned her face toward him and smiled.
‘You lost?’ he called.
‘Me?’
He laughed. ‘Climb aboard, mate, and I’ll see you to a safe port.’
He watched her get in. Her knees were scraped and filthy. Her dress was very short.
‘Nice car,’ she said.
‘Nice dress.’
She pulled the door shut, and the overhead light went off. ‘You like it?’ she asked.
Roger switched the light back on. ‘Sure looks good on you.’
‘Thanks.’ She smiled and blushed. Her face was dirty. Tears, dry now, had drawn streaks down her cheeks. ‘I’m afraid it got ripped,’ she said. ‘Back here. See?’ She leaned forward and turned her back to Roger. Her skin, where it showed through the rip, was scraped raw.
‘How’d that happen?’
‘I fell out of a car. Well, actually, I jumped.’ Her smile vanished. ‘Crazy old guy went weird on me.’
‘Had to hit the silk, huh?’
‘Oh, it’s not silk,’ she said, looking down at her dress. ‘It’s like polyester or something. But it feels like silk, I guess.’ She rubbed the glossy fabric and frowned at Roger.
‘Hit the silk is a figure of speech,’ he said. ‘It means to bail out with a parachute.’
‘I bailed out, all right. No parachute, though.’
‘Did the crazy guy hurt you?’
‘Nope. It was the road that banged me up. He just made a few grabs, but you should’ve heard him talk. Gave me the willies.’ Roger turned off the overhead light, and started driving.
‘So, are you a teacher or something?’ the girl asked.
‘A teacher? What makes you think so?’
‘Your lesson about hitting silk. Plus, nobody but teachers talk about stuff like figures of speech.’
‘Sorry, Holmes, but I’m a sales rep.’
‘I’m not Holmes, I’m Tina.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Tina. I’m Roger.’
‘I think I like you, Roger.’
‘Thank you. I do believe I like you, too.’
19
After Dan left, Marty lay down on his bed and
Willy folded the slice of cheese in half, then folded it again, making a small, thick square. He stuck it into his mouth.
Across the street, the prick was rushing across Marty’s front yard. He disappeared around a corner of the house.
‘Gonna sneak up on me?’ Willy asked with his mouthful of cheese. ‘Real tricky, you dumb-ass shit.’
He got up from the table. His fingers were slippery from the cheese. He wiped them on his jeans and headed for the door. ‘So long, sweet stuff,’ he said to Hedda.
Outside, the hot night air smelled like moist grass. A welcome change from the bad air of the kitchen.
The prick was nowhere to be seen.
Walking with a casual pace, Willy crossed the street.
He opened the back door of the Ford, climbed in, and shut it quietly.
Kneeling on the floor, he peered out the window at Marty’s house.
A light came on in an upstairs window.
Marty’s window?
Willy couldn’t remember what her bedroom had looked like, that morning ten years ago. He only remembered that it had been very sunny. Very bright and sunny, making Marty’s hair shine. Her face had gotten sweaty. There were tiny specks of sweat above her lip. They glistened in the sunlight. She had tears on her cheeks. Her eyelashes stuck together, making little, curly points.
The light in the upstairs window went off.
Willy took the knife from his pocket and opened its blade.
18
‘What the hell?’ Roger Sanderson knew it was no mirage. It was a real live girl walking slowly through the darkness, her head down. She wore a paisley dress that was torn behind the right shoulder. Roger slowed down and pressed a switch to lower the passenger window.
The girl turned her face toward him and smiled.
‘You lost?’ he called.
‘Me?’
He laughed. ‘Climb aboard, mate, and I’ll see you to a safe port.’
He watched her get in. Her knees were scraped and filthy. Her dress was very short.
‘Nice car,’ she said.
‘Nice dress.’
She pulled the door shut, and the overhead light went off. ‘You like it?’ she asked.
Roger switched the light back on. ‘Sure looks good on you.’
‘Thanks.’ She smiled and blushed. Her face was dirty. Tears, dry now, had drawn streaks down her cheeks. ‘I’m afraid it got ripped,’ she said. ‘Back here. See?’ She leaned forward and turned her back to Roger. Her skin, where it showed through the rip, was scraped raw.
‘How’d that happen?’
‘I fell out of a car. Well, actually, I jumped.’ Her smile vanished. ‘Crazy old guy went weird on me.’
‘Had to hit the silk, huh?’
‘Oh, it’s not silk,’ she said, looking down at her dress. ‘It’s like polyester or something. But it feels like silk, I guess.’ She rubbed the glossy fabric and frowned at Roger.
‘Hit the silk is a figure of speech,’ he said. ‘It means to bail out with a parachute.’
‘I bailed out, all right. No parachute, though.’
‘Did the crazy guy hurt you?’
‘Nope. It was the road that banged me up. He just made a few grabs, but you should’ve heard him talk. Gave me the willies.’ Roger turned off the overhead light, and started driving.
‘So, are you a teacher or something?’ the girl asked.
‘A teacher? What makes you think so?’
‘Your lesson about hitting silk. Plus, nobody but teachers talk about stuff like figures of speech.’
‘Sorry, Holmes, but I’m a sales rep.’
‘I’m not Holmes, I’m Tina.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Tina. I’m Roger.’
‘I think I like you, Roger.’
‘Thank you. I do believe I like you, too.’
19
After Dan left, Marty lay down on his bed and
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