hammer, twirl it once in my palm, and then slam into the top of Jerald’s knee. I do it with the gleeful joy of a kid hitting the Test Your Strength game at a carnival. I do it so hard that I can imagine the bell rising up-up-up, making the lights go ding-ding-ding and I win all the prizes. Jerald makes a lot of noise. His screams are clipped and hoarse, sounding more like disbelief than pain. They remind me of an alarm clock. “Ah! Ah! Ah!”
