The 5000 Fingers of Bob, pt III

"'The hell!' I yell at him. I start after him, but before I can get off the porch steps I hear my Jenny scream somethin' awful. I put my chair through the window and as soon as I'm inside, I freeze, thinkin' there's somebody else in this house. It feels like there's a buncha somebody elses in the house and then I hear her tryin' to cry out to me. I grab my bat and kick in her door and see him hunched over her bed, half holdin' her up with one arm and his fingers clamped down over her throat. He looks up and sees me and drops her back down in the bed. Then he backs away and does the damndest thing! He runs into the closet and shuts the door.

"I run over thinkin' he might try knockin' me down to get past so I call Jenny over to yank the door open. I had the bat in both hands like I was tuggin' a rope so I could jut it into his chest like if he sprung out at me? She pulls it open and I charge in bashin' everything in her closet and I put a hole in a wall before I realize he isn't even there."

There were many things I could have described Jack Hendauer as, but a liar wasn't one of them. I struggled with believing him and rationalized it as Bob had attacked his girl, but it couldn't have happened the way he said it had.

Jack's dry hand locked around my wrist and he leaned in, searching my eyes.

"It's the truth," he said. "I swear every word."

"I know, Jack," I said, tucking away my doubts. "But I think I'm drunk."

He jerked his hand away like a lick of electricity had pricked it and all that seriousness seemed to drain right out of him. He looked tired and old, like he hadn't slept since that night last week.

"I best get goin'," he said, rising unsteadily. A giggle slipped past his lips before he cut it off. "I think I'm drunk too, but I know that'll be one dead retard if'n he comes near my little girl again."

I watched him stagger towards the road, weaving between the gravel and the grass slowly zigzagging over the horizon. The full moon was low in the sky like he could've stumbled into it any moment before he fell out of sight.

I tried rising from my own chair and collapsed back into it. Prohibition was just too recent for us and a few beers were still enough to put us under. Nettle let me sleep it off outside. Served me right.

Sometime in the night I must have crawled myself into the house and passed out right by the bedroom door. Fuzzy voices in the distance woke me up and I had to try three times before I was able to crawl to the washroom. My full bladder was a raging flare and I couldn't have made it to the outhouse in time.

Some of the fog had started to lift by the time I came out. I tiptoed downstairs and eased behind a cup of coffee Nettle had waiting for me.

"Who was at the door, Net?" I carefully asked around my thick tongue.

"One a' those friends a' yourn," she said, wiping the counter, absent-mindedly.

For some reason I jumped out of my chair, a little too quick, intending to run to the door. The room turned upside down and everything tinged a deep crimson while my head rampaged like it was fixing to split. I stood still until it cleared, then crept to the door to see Ed, Howie and Glenn on my front steps.

"How's by you, boys?" I asked behind the screen door.

Ed turned to me, a look in his eyes I'd never seen before.