men.
The man’s smile turned to a frown. “Desperate times, goddamn it. What do they call for?”
Rick hesitated a moment. He knew what the man wanted him to say, but should he play this game? No choice, he told himself as he said: “Desperate measures.” The words were barely a whisper.
The balding man smiled and nodded his head, pleased. “Desperate measures. That’s right.” He stood up and began circling James’ motionless body as he talked. “Times are tough. I know you’ve got your reasons. Believe me, I know. Every sin is forgivable. That’s what Jesus said, you know. Every sin. Even thievery. Hell, even murder.”
The breath stalled in Rick’s lungs as the man spoke the word. Was that it, then? Was that his fate, to be killed while strapped to this chair in this basement at the hand of this man?
“He’s not wearing a ring. But you…you’re married.” He spoke the words flatly, emotionless.
Rick stared in silence.
The man rolled his eyes. “Desperate fucking times, man. Desperate times. I know what it’s like! To have a wife and kids and have to provide for them and get in a spot where you aren’t sure if you can or not.” He pointed the baseball bat at Rick. “That’s why you’ve stooped to breaking into houses, right? Pay a mortgage? Feed your family?”
It was the truth. He had spent thirty three years without ever even shoplifting a piece of gum. But the building industry in Ashton had collapsed upon itself, and thousands were unemployed at the moment with no hope of change in sight. After three months without paying the mortgage and two weeks of Clarissa and their daughter Maggie subsisting on little more than ramen noodles and beanie weenies, Rick had taken the only course of action he felt he had left.
“This sack of shit, though.” The man’s gaze fell on James and turned to ice. His voice grew in intensity, in disgust, as he spoke. “I remember being a single man, living alone. You can live on scraps when you need to. But instead of struggling and fighting like a man he comes here to steal from me. This isn’t to keep his wife from leaving him or feed his kids. This is for his own comfort. His own selfish fucking desires. He can be first. Hell, I may only need one of you, anyway. And he deserves it. Goddamn right he does.”
Suddenly the man swung the bat down and connected with James’ right knee, a sickening crack echoing off the walls of the basement. James moaned and twitched slightly as the bat slammed into his knee for a second time. Once more and the man seemed to be sated for the moment, turning his back and walking away from James and Rick.
He stood staring at the cinder block wall in front of him, his voice altered slightly as it bounced off the wall and echoed back to Rick. “I’ve struggled and fought for everything I have. Hell…I’ve fought for the shit I’ve lost.”
The man whirled back around, leaning against the wall and sliding down it to a sitting position, cradling his head in one hand and using the other to fidget with the bat.
Even with his vision still blurry and his ears still ringing Rick could see that the man was crying, or at least on the verge of it.
“Fucking bitch. Fucking economy. I’m not losing anything else. I don’t have any other choices, goddamn it.”
When the man looked up, his face didn’t show any sign of tears. It was cold and determined. He was biting his lower lip and nodding his head as if he had finally made an important decision.
The man dropped the bat to the ground and walked over to James, grabbing him by his legs. James didn’t make a sound as the man started to drag him across the floor, the two of them disappearing behind Rick leaving a thin trail of blood on the concrete.
Rick heard James’ legs hit the concrete as the man dropped them, followed by near silence. He turned his head as far as he could,
The man’s smile turned to a frown. “Desperate times, goddamn it. What do they call for?”
Rick hesitated a moment. He knew what the man wanted him to say, but should he play this game? No choice, he told himself as he said: “Desperate measures.” The words were barely a whisper.
The balding man smiled and nodded his head, pleased. “Desperate measures. That’s right.” He stood up and began circling James’ motionless body as he talked. “Times are tough. I know you’ve got your reasons. Believe me, I know. Every sin is forgivable. That’s what Jesus said, you know. Every sin. Even thievery. Hell, even murder.”
The breath stalled in Rick’s lungs as the man spoke the word. Was that it, then? Was that his fate, to be killed while strapped to this chair in this basement at the hand of this man?
“He’s not wearing a ring. But you…you’re married.” He spoke the words flatly, emotionless.
Rick stared in silence.
The man rolled his eyes. “Desperate fucking times, man. Desperate times. I know what it’s like! To have a wife and kids and have to provide for them and get in a spot where you aren’t sure if you can or not.” He pointed the baseball bat at Rick. “That’s why you’ve stooped to breaking into houses, right? Pay a mortgage? Feed your family?”
It was the truth. He had spent thirty three years without ever even shoplifting a piece of gum. But the building industry in Ashton had collapsed upon itself, and thousands were unemployed at the moment with no hope of change in sight. After three months without paying the mortgage and two weeks of Clarissa and their daughter Maggie subsisting on little more than ramen noodles and beanie weenies, Rick had taken the only course of action he felt he had left.
“This sack of shit, though.” The man’s gaze fell on James and turned to ice. His voice grew in intensity, in disgust, as he spoke. “I remember being a single man, living alone. You can live on scraps when you need to. But instead of struggling and fighting like a man he comes here to steal from me. This isn’t to keep his wife from leaving him or feed his kids. This is for his own comfort. His own selfish fucking desires. He can be first. Hell, I may only need one of you, anyway. And he deserves it. Goddamn right he does.”
Suddenly the man swung the bat down and connected with James’ right knee, a sickening crack echoing off the walls of the basement. James moaned and twitched slightly as the bat slammed into his knee for a second time. Once more and the man seemed to be sated for the moment, turning his back and walking away from James and Rick.
He stood staring at the cinder block wall in front of him, his voice altered slightly as it bounced off the wall and echoed back to Rick. “I’ve struggled and fought for everything I have. Hell…I’ve fought for the shit I’ve lost.”
The man whirled back around, leaning against the wall and sliding down it to a sitting position, cradling his head in one hand and using the other to fidget with the bat.
Even with his vision still blurry and his ears still ringing Rick could see that the man was crying, or at least on the verge of it.
“Fucking bitch. Fucking economy. I’m not losing anything else. I don’t have any other choices, goddamn it.”
When the man looked up, his face didn’t show any sign of tears. It was cold and determined. He was biting his lower lip and nodding his head as if he had finally made an important decision.
The man dropped the bat to the ground and walked over to James, grabbing him by his legs. James didn’t make a sound as the man started to drag him across the floor, the two of them disappearing behind Rick leaving a thin trail of blood on the concrete.
Rick heard James’ legs hit the concrete as the man dropped them, followed by near silence. He turned his head as far as he could,
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