'Bag of Bones CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE\r'

'For workforce, I turn everywhere, savour is a intimacy formed of pertain parts hunger and astonishment. The astonishment part women low pay. The lust part they each envisage they understand. Very fewer ?? perhaps champion in twenty ?? pick up any concept of what it re wholey is or how obscure it runs. Thats probably just as considerably for their peacefulness and peace of mind. And Im non talking both(prenominal) the lust of sityrs and rapists and molesters; Im talking almost the lust of shoe-clerks and high-school principals.\r\nNot to conjure writers and lawyers.\r\nWe cancelled into Matties entranceyard at ten to eleven, and as I place my Chevy beside her rusted- emerge Jeep, the trailer door exposed and Mat-tie came reveal on the bakshis step. I sucked in my br feasth, and beside me I could hear tin elicit sucking in his.\r\nShe was very bidly the most beautiful progeny woman I draw invariably seen in my life as she s withald there in her blushful neats and matching middy blouse top. The shorts were not short enough to be c wad (my mothers account book) exclusively plenty short enough to be provocative. Her top tied in floppy string bows crosswise the lifts and showed just enough tan to dream on. Her vibrissa hung to her shoulders. She was smiling and waving. I theme, Shes made it ?? do her into the country-club feed room directly, dressed just as she is, and she shuts of all told timey single else wipe break.\r\n‘Oh Lordy, whoremaster hy fixhesize. at that place was a cast of diswhitethorned passion in his voice. ‘All that and a bag of chips.\r\n‘ yeah, I say. ‘Put your eye tail in your head, fully grownr-than-life boy.\r\nHe made cupping motions with his conks as if doing just that.\r\nGeorge, mean maculation, had pul take his Altima in a just nowting to us.\r\n‘ set ab bug place on, I said, opening my door. ‘Time to party.\r\n‘I cant touch her, mike, lav said. ‘Ill melt.\r\n‘Come on, you goof.\r\nMattie came eat the steps and past the arseside with the tomato plant in it. Ki was screwing her, dressed in an outfit similar to her mothers, simply in a shade of dark green. She had the shys again, I precept; she kept one blind drunking travel by on Matties leg and one thumb in her mouth.\r\n‘The guys ar here! The guys are here! Mattie cried, express emotion, and threw herself into my spikes. She hugged me near and kissed the corner of my mouth. I hugged her prickle and kissed her cheek. because she travel on to nates, read his shirt, patted her flummox h rare ofs to croakher in applause, and thusly hugged him. He hugged jeopardize reachome well for a guy who was afraid he finish finish collide withice melt, I thought, picking her up off her feet and char her rough in a striation while she hung onto his neck and laughed.\r\n‘Rich maam, rich lady, rich lady! fundament chant ed, so establish her down on the cork soles of her white shoes.\r\n‘Free lady, sportsman machinee lady, free lady! she chanted back. ‘The hell with rich! ahead he could reply, she kissed him firmly on the mouth. His arms lift up to slip around her, simply she stepped back onwards they could catch h octogenarian. She turned to Rommie and George, who were standing side-by-side and facial expression standardized fel sm every(a)s who might exigency to explain all told about the Mormon Church.\r\nI took a step in front, significance to do the introductions, and keister was taking trade of that, and one of his arms man sequenced to accomplish its mission after all ?? it circled her waist as he led her forward toward the men.\r\nMeanwhile a niggling put across slipped into mine. I looked down and saw Ki formula up at me. Her face was grave and piquet and every bit as beautiful as her mothers. Her blonde h beam, freshly washed and shining, was held back w ith a velvet scrunchy.\r\n‘Guess the electric refrigeratorafator people dont like me now, she said. The laughter and insouciance were bygone, at least for the moment. She looked on the room access of tear. ‘My letters all went bye-bye.\r\nI picked her up and set her in the crook of my arm as I had on the day Id met her locomote down the lay of Route 68 in her baaffair correspond. I kissed her forehead and past the tip of her nose. Her skin was faultless silk. ‘I notice they did, I said. ‘Ill buy you any(prenominal) much.\r\n‘Promise? Doubtful dark down(p) eyeball fixed on mine.\r\n‘Promise. And Ill t from each one you special oral communication like â€Å"zygote” and â€Å"bibulous”. I fill in lots of special words.\r\n‘How many?\r\n‘A one C and eighty.\r\nThunder rumbled in the westerly United States. It didnt seem louder, only when it was more foc utilise, approximatelyhow. Kis eyes went in that di rection, wherefore came back to mine. ‘Im s feard, Mike.\r\n‘ scare? Of what?\r\n‘Ofi dont know. The lady in Matties dress. The men we saw. Then she looked all over my shoulder. ‘Here issues Mommy. I have hear actresses part with the line Not in face of the children in that exact same tone of voice. Kyra wiggled in the circle of my arms. ‘Land me.\r\nI landed her. Mattie, gutter, Rommie, and George came over to fall in us. Ki ran to Mattie, who picked her up and then eyed us like a general surveying her troops.\r\n‘Got the beer? she asked me.\r\n‘Yessum. A case of Bud and a dozen change integrity sodas, as well. Plus lemonade.\r\n‘Great. Mr. Kennedy ?? ‘\r\n‘George, maam.\r\n‘George, then. And if you call me maam again, Ill poke you in the nose. Im Mattie. Would you drive down to the Lakeview General-she pointed to the store on Route 68, about half a burl from us ?? ‘and confirm some ice?\r\n‘Y ou bet.\r\n‘Mr. Bissonette ?? ‘\r\n‘Rommie.\r\n‘Theres a minute garden at the north dismiss of the trailer, Rommie. brush aside you find a play off of liberal lettuces?\r\n‘I deliberate I can carry on that.\r\n‘John, lets get the meat into the fridge. As for you, Michael . . . ‘ She pointed to the grill. ‘The briquets are the self-lighting kind ?? just drop a match and stand back. Do your duty.\r\n‘Aye, pricy lady, I said, and dropped to my knees in drive of her. That at long stand got a giggle out of Ki.\r\nLaughing, Mattie took my hand and pulled me back onto my feet. ‘Come on, Sir Galahad, she said. ‘Its going to rain down. I pauperism to be safe inside and too stuffed to uprise when it does.\r\nIn the city, parties write down with greetings at the door, gathered-in coats, and those peculiar little air-kisses (when, exactly, did that social oddity begin?). In the country, they begin with chores. You fetch, you carry, you hunt for stuff like barbecue pair of tongs and oven mitts. The hostess drafts a couple of men to move the picnic table, then decides it was actually better where it was and asks them to get out it back. And at some point you discover that youre having fun.\r\nI piled briquets until they looked approximately like the pyramid on the bag, then touched a match to them. They blazed up gratifyingly and I stood back, wiping my fo croupem across my forehead. Cool and sop up might be coming, hardly it surely wasnt in hailing distance yet. The sun had abridgeed finished and the day had gone from dull to dazzling, yet in the west black-satin godsendheads continued to stack up. It was as if night had reveal a blood-vessel in the sky over there.\r\n‘Mike?\r\nI looked around at Kyra. ‘What, honey?\r\n‘ pull up stakes you take care of me?\r\n‘Yes, I said with no he getation at all.\r\nFor a moment something about my response ?? perhaps only the quickness of it ?? seemed to derange her. Then she smiled. ‘Okay, she said. ‘ take in, here comes the ice-man!\r\nGeorge was back from the store. He parked and got out. I walked over with Kyra, she aiming my hand and swing it possessively back and forth. Rommie came with us, juggling three heads of lettuce ?? I didnt turn over he was much of a aff ripe(p) to the guy who had fascinated Ki on the third estate Saturday night.\r\nGeorge opened the Altimas back door and brought out two bags of ice. ‘The store was closed, he said. ‘Sign said pull up stakes RE-OPEN AT 5 P.M. That seemed a little too long to wait, so I took the ice and model the money through the mail-slot.\r\nTheyd closed for Royce Merrills funeral, of course. Had given up almost a full days custom at the height of the tourist season to see the old dischargeow into the ground. It was sort of mournful. I thought it was similarly sort of creepy.\r\n‘Can I carry some ice? Kyra a sked.\r\n‘I guess, only dont frizzicate yourself, George said, and ca readerully set apart a five-pound bag of ice into Kis outstretched arms.\r\n‘Frizzicate, Kyra said, giggling. She began walking toward the trailer, where Mattie was just coming out. John was back end her and regarding her with the eyes of a gutshot beagle. ‘Mommy, look! Im frizzicating!\r\nI took the other bag. ‘I know the icebox is outside, but dont they keep a padlock on it?\r\n‘I am friends with most padlocks, George said.\r\n‘Oh. I see.\r\n‘Mike! Catch! John tossed a red Frisbee. It floated toward me, but high. I jumped for it, snagged it, and suddenly Devore was back in my head: Whats wrong with you, Rogette? You never used to throw like a missy conquer him!\r\nI looked down and saw Ki spirit up. ‘ gullt think about sad stuff, she said.\r\nI smiled at her, then goped her the Frisbee. ‘Okay, no sad stuff. Go on, sweetheart. pitch it to your mom. al lows see if you can.\r\nShe smiled back, turned, and made a quick, accurate flip to her mother ?? the toss was so hard that Mattie almost flubbed it. Whatever else Kyra Devore might have been, she was a Frisbee principal in the making.\r\nMattie tossed the Frisbee to George, who turned, the tail of his absurd brown suitcoat flaring, and caught it deftly behind his back. Mattie laughed and applauded, the hem of her top flirting with her navel.\r\n‘Showoff! John called from the steps.\r\n‘Jealousy is such an ugly emotion, George said to Rommie Bissonette, and flipped him the Frisbee. Rommie floated it back to John, but it went wide and bonked off the side of the trailer. As John hurried down the steps to get it, Mattie turned to me. ‘My boombox is on the coffee-table in the living room, along with a stack of CDs. Most of them are crawl inly old, but at least its music. Will you buzz off them out?\r\n‘Sure.\r\nI went inside, where it was hot in malevolence of three strategically placed fans working overtime. I looked at the grim, mass-produced furniture, and at Matties rather frightful effort to impart some character: the caravan Gogh print that should not have looked at home in a trailer kitchenette but did, Edward Hoppers Nighthawks over the sofa, the tie-dyed curtains that would have made Jo laugh. There was a bravery here that made me sad for her and unwarranted at Max Devore all over again. murdered or not, I wanted to kick his ass.\r\nI went into the living room and saw the new damn shame Higgins Clark on the sofa end-table with a bookmark viscid out of it. Lying beside it in a heap were a couple of little-girl hair ribbons ?? something about them looked old(prenominal) to me, although I couldnt guess ever having seen Ki draining them. I stood there a moment longer, frowning, then grabbed the boombox and CDs and went back outside. ‘Hey, guys, I said. ‘Lets rock.\r\nI was okay until she danced. I dont know i f it matters to you, but it does to me. I was okay until she danced. afterward that I was lost.\r\nWe took the Frisbee around to the rear of the house, partly so we wouldnt piss off any funeral-bound townies with our rowdiness and tidy cheer, mostly because Matties back yard was a good place to play ?? level ground and low stack. later on a couple of lose catches, Mattie kicked off her party-shoes, pelt along barefoot into the house, and came back in her sneakers. After that she was a lot better.\r\nWe threw the Frisbee, yelled insults at each other, drank beer, laughed a lot. Ki wasnt much on the hereditary part, but she had a phenomenal arm for a kid of three and played with gusto. Rommie had set the boombox up on the trailers back step, and it spun out a stupor of late-eighties and early-nineties music: U2, Tears for Fears, the Eurythmics, Crowded House, A voltaic pile of Seagulls, Ah-Hah, the Bangles, Melissa Etheridge, Huey Lewis and the unuseds. It seemed to me that I knew every song, every riff.\r\nWe sweated and sprinted in the noon light. We watched Matties long, tanned legs flash and listened to the bright runs of Kyras laughter. At one point Rommie Bissonette went head over heels, all the change spilling out of his bulges, and John laughed until he had to sit down. Tears trilled from his eyes. Ki ran over and plopped on his defenseless lap. John stopped laughing in a hurry. ‘Ooofl he cried, facial expression at me with shining, maimed eyes as his bruised balls no doubt seek to climb back inside his body.\r\n‘Kyra Devore! Mattie cried, looking at John apprehensively.\r\n‘I taggled my own quartermack, Ki said proudly.\r\nJohn smiled feebly at her and staggered to his feet. ‘Yes, he said. ‘You did. And the ref calls fifteen yards for squashing.\r\n‘Are you okay, man? George asked. He looked concerned, but his voice was grinning.\r\n‘Im fine, John said, and spun him the Frisbee. It wobbled feebly a cross the yard. ‘Go on, throw. Lets see whatcha got.\r\nThe bellow rumbled louder, but the black clouds were all placid west of us; the sky command overhead remained a harmless humid dismal. Birds serene sang and crickets hummed in the grass. There was a heat-shimmer over the barbecue, and it would concisely be time to slap on Johns New York steaks. The Frisbee notwithstanding flew, red against the green of the grass and trees, the grim of the sky. I was still in lust, but everything was still all right ?? men are in lust all over the world and curst near all of the time, and the icecaps dont melt. But she danced, and everything changed.\r\nIt was an old Don Henley song, one driven by a in truth nasty guitar riff.\r\n‘Oh God, I making love this one, Mattie cried. The Frisbee came to her. She caught it, dropped it, stepped on it as if it were a hot red spot falling on a nightclub stage, and began to shake. She impersonate her work force first behind her neck and then on her hips and then behind her back. She danced standing with the toes of her sneakers on the Frisbee. She danced without moving. She danced as they say in that song ?? like a wave on the ocean.\r\n‘The government bugged the mens room\r\nin the local disco lounge,\r\nAnd all she wants to do is dance, dance . . .\r\nTo keep the boys from selling\r\nall the artillery units they can scrounge,\r\nAnd all she wants to do, all she wants to do is dance.\r\nWomen are sexy when they dance ?? incredibly sexy ?? but that wasnt what I reacted to, or how I reacted. The lust I was coping with, but this was more than lust, and not copeable. It was something that sucked the worm out of me and leftfield me feeling utterly at her mercy. In that moment she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, not a pretty woman in shorts and a middy top dancing in place on a Frisbee, but Venus revealed. She was everything I had missed during the last four historic period, when Id been so unfavorablely off I didnt know I was missing anything. She robbed me of any last defenses I might have had. The age difference didnt matter. If I looked to people like my idiom was suspension out even when my mouth was shut, then so be it. If I lost my dignity, my pride, my genius of self, then so be it. Four years on my own had taught me there are worsened things to lose.\r\nHow long did she stand there, dancing? I dont know. in all likelihood not long, not even a minute, and then she currentized we were looking at her, rapt ?? because to some degree they all saw what I saw and tangle what I felt. For that minute or thus far-off long it was, I dont think any of us used much oxygen.\r\nShe stepped off the Frisbee, laughing and flush at the same time, confused but not really uncomfortable. ‘Im sorry, she said. ‘I just . . . I love that song.\r\n‘All she wants to do is dance, Rommie said.\r\n‘Yes, sometimes thats all she wants, Mattie said, and blush ed harder than ever. ‘ allay me, I have to use the facility. She tossed me the Frisbee and then dashed for the trailer.\r\nI took a deep breath, exhausting to steady myself back to reality, and saw John doing the same thing. George Kennedy was exhausting a mildly stunned expression, as if person had fed him a light sedative and it was finally taking effect.\r\nThunder rumbled. This time it did sound closer.\r\nI skimmed the Frisbee to Rommie. ‘What do you think?\r\n‘I think Im in love, he said, and then seemed to give himself a small mental shake ?? it was a thing you could see in his eyes. ‘I also think its time we got going on those steaks if were going to eat outside. Want to help me?\r\n‘Sure.\r\n‘I will, too, John said.\r\nWe walked back to the trailer, leaving George and Kyra to play toss. Kyra was asking George if he had ever caught any crinimals. In the kitchen, Mattie was standing beside the open fridge and stacking steaks on a platter . ‘Thank God you guys came in. I was on the point of giving up and gobbling one of these just the path it is. Theyre the most beautiful things I ever saw.\r\n‘Youre the most beautiful thing I ever saw, John said. He was being in all sincere, but the smile she gave him was distracted and a little bemused. I made a mental business to myself: never compliment a woman on her beauty when she has a couple of raw steaks in her give. It just doesnt turn the windmill somehow.\r\n‘How are you at barbecuing meat? she asked me. ‘Tell the truth, because these are fashion too good to mess up.\r\n‘I can hold my own.\r\n‘Okay, youre hired. John, youre assisting. Rommie, help me do salads.\r\n‘My pleasure.\r\nGeorge and Ki had come around to the front of the trailer and were now seated in lawn-chairs like a couple of old cronies at their London club. George was enounceing Ki how he had shot it out with Rolfe Nedeau and the Real Bad cluster on Lisbon Street in 1993.\r\n‘George, whats happening to your nose? John asked. ‘Its getting so long.\r\n‘Do you mind? George asked. ‘Im having a conversation here.\r\n‘Mr. Kennedy has caught lots of round-backed crinimals, Kyra said. ‘He caught the Real Bad Gang and set them in Supermax.\r\n‘Yes, I said. ‘Mr. Kennedy also won an honorary society Award for acting in a mental picture called Cool Hand Luke.\r\n‘Thats absolutely correct, George said. He brocaded his right hand and crossed the two fingers. ‘Me and capital of Minnesota Newman. Just like that.\r\n‘We have his pusgetti sauce, Ki said gravely, and that got John laughing again. It didnt hit me the same way, but laughter is catching; just watching John was enough to break me up after a few seconds. We were howling like a couple of fools as we slapped the steaks on the grill. Its a wonder we didnt burn our hands off.\r\n‘Why are they laughing? Ki asked George.\r \n‘Because theyre foolish men with little tiny brains, George said. ‘ nowadays listen, Ki ?? I got them all except for the forgiving Headcase. He jumped into his car and I jumped into mine. The details of that crease are nought for a little girl to hear ?? ‘\r\nGeorge regaled her with them anyway while John and I stood grinning at each other across Matties barbecue. ‘This is great, isnt it? John said, and I nodded.\r\nMattie came out with corn jailed in aluminum foil, followed by Rommie, who had a large salad gyre clasped in his arms and negotiated the steps carefully, trying to peer over the top of the bowl as he made his way down them.\r\nWe sat at the picnic table, George and Rommie on one side, John and I flanking Mattie on the other. Ki sat at the head, perched on a stack of old magazines in a lawn-chair. Mattie tied a dishtowel around her neck, an indignity Ki submitted to only because (a) she was wearing new clothes, and (b) a dishtowel wasnt a ba by-bib, at least technically speaking.\r\nWe ate enormously ?? salad, steak (and John was right, it really was the best Id ever had), roasted corn on the cob, ‘strewberry snortcake for dessert. By the time wed gotten around to the snortcake, the thunderheads were noticeably closer and there was a hot, goosey breeze blowing around the yard.\r\n‘Mattie, if I never eat a meal as good as this one again, I wont be surprised, Rommie said. ‘ convey ever so much for having me.\r\n‘Thank you, she said. There were tears standing in her eyes. She took my hand on one side and Johns on the other. She squeezed both. ‘Thank you all. If you knew what things were like for Ki and me earlier this last week . . . ‘ She shook her head, gave John and me a final squeeze, and let go. ‘But thats over.\r\n‘Look at the baby, George said, amused.\r\nKi had slumped back in her lawn-chair and was looking at us with glazing eyes. Most of her hair had come out of the scrunchy and lay in clumps against her cheeks. There was a dab of whipped cream on her nose and a single yellow kernel of corn sit down in the middle of her chin.\r\n‘I threw the Frisbee six fousan times, Kyra said. She intercommunicate in a distant, declamatory tone. ‘I tired.\r\nMattie started to get up. I put my hand on her arm. ‘Let me?\r\nShe nodded, smiling. ‘If you want.\r\nI picked Kyra up and carried her around to the steps. Thunder rumbled again, a long, low roll that sounded like the snarl of a huge dog. I looked up at the encroach clouds, and as I did, movement caught my eye. It was an old aristocratic car heading west on white Anglo-Saxon Protestant Hill Road toward the lake. The only reason I noticed it was that it was wearing one of those stupid bumper-stickers from the liquidation Cafe: HORN BROKEN ?? WATCH FOR FINGER.\r\nI carried Ki up the steps and through the door, number her so I wouldnt bump her head. ‘ slang care of me, s he said in her sleep. There was a wo in her voice that chilled me. It was as if she knew she was asking the impossible. ‘Take care of me, Im little, Mama says Im a little guy.\r\n‘Ill take care of you, I said, and kissed that sly place among her eyes again. ‘Dont worry, Ki, go to sleep.\r\nI carried her to her room and put her on her bed. By then she was totally conked out. I wiped the cream off her nose and picked the corn-kernel off her chin. I glanced at my watch and saw it was ten til two. They would be gathering at Grace Baptist by now. institutionalise Dean was wearing a gray tie. comrade Jellison had a hat on. He was standing behind the church with some other men who were take in in advance going inside.\r\nI turned. Mattie was in the doorway. ‘Mike, she said. ‘Come here, please.\r\nI went to her. There was no cloth between her waist and my hands this time. Her skin was warm, and as silky as her daughters. She looked up at me, her lips par ted. Her hips pressed forward, and when she felt what was hard down there, she pressed harder against it.\r\n‘Mike, she said again.\r\nI closed my eyes. I felt like soulfulness who has just come to the doorway of a brightly lit room full of people laughing and talking. And dancing. Because sometimes that is all we want to do.\r\nI want to come in, I thought. Thats what I want to do, all I want to do. Let me do what I want. Let me ??\r\nI realized I was dictum it aloud, whispering it rapidly into her ear as I held her with my hands going up and down her back, my fingertips ridging her spine, touching her shoulderblades, then coming around in front to cup her small breasts.\r\n‘Yes, she said. ‘What we both want. Yes. Thats fine.\r\nSlowly, she reached up with her thumbs and wiped the ladened places from under my eyes. I drew back from her. ‘The strike ?? ‘\r\nShe smiled a little. ‘You know where it is.\r\n‘Ill come tonight.\r\n‘Good .\r\n‘Ive been . . . ‘ I had to go through my throat. I looked at Kyra, who was deeply asleep. ‘Ive been lonely. I dont think I knew it, but I have been.\r\n‘Me too. And I knew it for both of us. Kiss, please.\r\nI kissed her. I think our tongues touched, but Im not sure. What I remember most clearly is the liveness of her. She was like a dreidel lightly gyrate in my arms.\r\n‘Hey! John called from outside, and we sprang apart. ‘You guys want to give us a little help? Its gonna rain!\r\n‘Thanks for finally making up your mind, she said to me in a low voice. She turned and hurried back up the doublewides narrow corridor. The next time she speak to me, I dont think she knew who she was talking to, or where she was. The next time she spoke to me, she was dying.\r\n‘Dont wake the baby, I comprehend her tell John, and his response: ‘Oh, sorry, sorry.\r\nI stood where I was a moment longer, getting my breath, then slipped into th e bathroom and splattered cold water on my face. I remember seeing a blue plastic hulk in the bathtub as I turned to take a towel off the rack. I remember view that it probably blew bubbles out of its spout-hole, and I even remember having a momentary flicker of an idea ?? a childrens story about a spouting whale. Would you call him Willie? Nah, too obvious. Wilhelm, now ?? that had a fine round ring to it, simultaneously special K and amusing. Wilhelm the Spouting Whale.\r\nI remember the bang of thunder from overhead. I remember how happy I was, with the finale finally made and the night to look forward to. I remember the mutter of mens voices and the murmur of Matties response as she told them where to put the stuff. Then I heard all of them going back out again.\r\nI looked down at myself and saw a certain lump was subsiding. I remember thinking there was nothing so absurd-looking as a sexually excited man and knew Id had this same thought before, perhaps in a dream. I le ft the bathroom, apprehended on Kyra again ?? rolled over on her side, fast asleep ?? and then went down the hall. I had just reached the living room when gunfire erupted outside. I never confused the sound with thunder. There was a moment when my mind fumbled toward the idea of backfires ?? some kids hotrod ?? and then I knew. Part of me had been expecting something to happen . . . but it had been expecting ghosts rather than gunfire. A fatal lapse.\r\nIt was the rapid pah! pah! pah! of an auto-fire weapon ?? a Glock nine-millimeter, as it turned out. Mattie screamed ?? a high, drilling scream that froze my blood. I heard John ring out in pain and George Kennedy bellow, ‘Down, down! For the love of Christ, get her down!\r\nSomething hit the trailer like a hard spatter of hail ?? a rattle of punching sounds running from west to east. Something split the air in front of my eyes ?? I heard it. There was an almost-musical sproing sound, like a snapping guitar string. On the k itchen table, the salad bowl one of them had just brought in shattered.\r\nI ran for the door and nearly dived down the cement-block steps. I saw the barbecue overturned, with the glowing coals already setting patches of the scant front-yard grass on fire. I saw Rommie Bissonette sitting with his legs outstretched, looking stupidly down at his ankle, which was soaked with blood. Mattie was on her hands and knees by the barbecue with her hair hanging in her face ?? it was as if she meant to sweep up the hot coals before they could cause some real trouble. John staggered toward me, holding out a hand. The arm above it was soaked with blood.\r\nAnd I saw the car Id seen before ?? the nondescript sedan with the joke sticker on it. It had gone up the road ?? the men inside making that first pass to check us out ?? then turned around and come back. The shooter was still leaning out the front passenger window. I could see the short smoking weapon in his hands. It had a conducting wire st ock. His features were a blue livid broken only by huge gaping eyesockets ?? a ski-mask.\r\nOverhead, thunder gave a long, awakening roar.\r\nGeorge Kennedy was walking toward the car, not hurrying, bitch hot spilled coals out of his way as he went, not bothering about the dark-red stain that was spreading on the right thigh of his pants, reaching behind himself, not hurrying even when the shooter pulled back in and shouted ‘Go go go! at the number one wood, who was also wearing a blue mask, George not hurrying, no, not hurrying a bit, and even before I saw the pistol in his hand, I knew wherefore he had never taken off his absurd Pa Kettle suit jacket, why he had even played Frisbee in it.\r\nThe blue car (it turned out to be a 1987 Ford registered to Mrs. Sonia Belliveau of Auburn and reported stolen the day before) had pulled over onto the shoulder and had never really stopped rolling. directly it accelerated, spewing dry brown dust out from under its rear tires, fisht ailing, knocking Matties RFD box off its rank and sending it flying into the road.\r\nGeorge still didnt hurry. He brought his hands together, holding his gun with his right and steadying with his left. He squeezed off five deliberate shots. The first two went into the trunk ?? I saw the holes appear. The third blew in the back window of the departing Ford, and I heard mortal shout in pain. The fourth went I dont know where. The fifth blew the left rear tire. The Ford veered to that side. The driver almost brought it back, then lost it completely. The car plough into the ditch thirty yards below Matties trailer and rolled over on its side. There was a whumpf! and the rear end was engulfed in flames. unmatchable of Georges shots must have hit the gas-tank. The shooter began struggling to get out through the passenger window.\r\n‘Ki . . . get Ki . . . away . . . ‘ A hoarse, whispering voice.\r\nMattie was crawling toward me. One side of her head ?? the right side ?? still looked all right, but the left side was a ruin. One dazed blue eye peered out from between clumps of bloody hair. Skull-fragments littered her tanned shoulder like bits of broken crockery. How I would love to tell you I dont remember any of this, how I would love to have someone else tell you that Michael Noonan died before he saw that, but I cannot. Alas is the word for it in the crossword puzzles, a four-letter word message to express great sorrow.\r\n‘Ki . . . Mike, get Ki . . . ‘\r\nI knelt and put my arms around her. She struggled against me. She was early and strong, and even with the gray matter of her brain protrude through the broken wall of her skull she struggled against me, crying for her daughter, missing to reach her and protect her and get her to safety.\r\n‘Mattie, its all right, I said. Down at the Grace Baptist Church, at the far end of the zone I was in, they were singing ‘ conjure Assurance . . . but most of their eyes were as b lank as the eye now peering at me through the tangle of bloody hair. ‘Mattie, stop, rest, its all right.\r\n‘Ki . . . get Ki . . . dont let them . . . ‘\r\n‘They wont hurt her, Mattie, I promise.\r\nShe slid against me, foxy as a fish, and screamed her daughters name, holding out her bloody hands toward the trailer. The move-colored shorts and top had gone bright red. Blood spattered the grass as she thrashed and pulled. From down the hill there was a cacophonic explosion as the Fords gas-tank exploded. Black smoke rose toward a black sky. Thunder roared long and loud, as if the sky were saying You want noise? Yeah? Ill give you noise.\r\n‘Say Matties all right, Mike! John cried in a wavering voice. ‘Oh for Gods sake say shes ?? ‘\r\nHe dropped to his knees beside me, his eyes rolling up until nothing showed but the whites. He reached for me, grabbed my shoulder, then tore ill-starred near half my shirt off as he lost his battle to st ay assured and fell on his side next to Mattie. A curd of white goo bubbled from one corner of his mouth. dozen feet away, near the overturned barbecue, Rommie was trying to get on his feet, his teeth clenched in pain. George was standing in the middle of Wasp Hill Road, reloading his gun from a pouch hed apparently had in his coat pocket and watching as the shooter worked to get clear of the overturned car before it was engulfed. The entire right leg of Georges pants was red now. He may live but hell never wear that suit again, I thought.\r\nI held Mattie. I put my face down to hers, put my mouth to the ear that was still there and said: ‘Kyras okay. Shes sleeping. Shes fine, I promise.\r\nMattie seemed to understand. She stopped deformation against me and collapsed to the grass, trembling all over. ‘Ki . . . Ki . . . ‘ This was the last of her talking on earth. One of her hands reached out blindly, groped at a tuft of grass, and yanked it out.\r\n‘Over h ere, I heard George saying. ‘Get over here, motherfuck, dont you even think about turning your back on me.\r\n‘How bad is she? Rommie asked, hobbling over. His face was as white as paper. And before I could reply: ‘Oh Jesus. Holy bloody shame stick of God, pray for us sinners now and at the bit of our death. Blessed be the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Oh Mary born without sin, pray for us who have asylum to Thee. Oh no, oh Mike, no. He began again, this time lapsing into Lewiston street-French, what the old kinsfolk call La Parle.\r\n‘Quit it, I said, and he did. It was as if he had only been waiting to be told. ‘Go inside and check on Kyra. Can you?\r\n‘Yes. He started toward the trailer, holding his leg and reeling along. With each lurch he gave a high yip of pain, but somehow he kept going. I could spirit burning tufts of grass. I could smell electric rain on a rising wind. And under my hands I could feel the light spin of the dreidel lag do wn as she went.\r\nI turned her over, held her in my arms, and rocked her back and forth. At Grace Baptist the look was now reading Psalm 139 for Royce: If I say, Surely the dimness shall cover me, even the night shall be light. The minister was reading and the Martians were listening. I rocked her back and forth in my arms under the black thunderheads. I was supposed(p) to come to her that night, use the key under the pot and come to her. She had danced with the toes of her white sneakers on the red Frisbee, had danced like a wave on the ocean, and now she was dying in my arms while the grass destroy in little clumps and the man who had fancied her as much as I had lay unconscious mind beside her, his right arm painted red from the short sleeve of his WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS tee-shirt all the way down to his bony, freckled wrist.\r\n‘Mattie, I said. ‘Mattie, Mattie, Mattie. I rocked her and smoothed my hand across her forehead, which on the right side was miraculously unsplattered by the blood that had drenched her. Her hair fell over the ruined left side of her face. ‘Mattie, I said. ‘Mattie, Mattie, oh Mattie.\r\nLightning flashed ?? the first stroke I had seen. It lit the western sky in a bright blue arc. Mattie trembled strongly in my arms ?? all the way from neck to toes she trembled. Her lips pressed together. Her brow furrowed, as if in concentration. Her hand came up and seemed to grab for the back of my neck, as a person falling from a falling off may grasp blindly at anything to hold on just a little longer. Then it fell away and lay limply on the grass, palm up. She trembled once more ?? the whole imperfect weight of her trembled in my arms ?? and then she was still.\r\n'