"How could you know this stuff about our parents? It happened before you were born. This is just another of your lies."

  "Let's get one thing straight right now. I don't lie. I never have. That's one thing you can depend on about me."

  "That's a lie in itself. You lied the night we played Billy the Kid."

  "You are really something else, Bobby. You know that? You're just too cute to be real. But you're partially right. I was less than a year old when your papa fucked my mother."

  "So how did you find out?"

  "I heard about it at school, a big stink about it started twelve years afterward. I was in the eighth grade at Wilson School when it happened. Why it got started again, I don't know. But I know who started it. That goddamn mama of yours. My mother killed herself over it. Your mama told my mother something and she killed herself. She hit a semi head on at ninety miles an hour out at the Red Top intersection on Highway 152. Took them a week to get all her pieces out of the car. There wasn't anything left of her bigger than your fist. My dad told me this. He still thinks it was all his fault. But I know it was your mama and papa."

  "Come on, Charles. Your mother didn't have to do what she did. She could have said no. Who knows. Maybe she came to Papa."

  "Goddamn, you! You are a sonofabitch, but you are dead right. You know that, Bobby? You are dead right. I've had a little experience with women. You saw a couple tonight. They're trash. All of them are nothing but trash. They can't stop themselves from doing the things they do. They're like kids. They do what you tell 'em."

  "The ones you pick are like that for sure." I'm thinking, my mama's not like that and he hasn't ever run across anyone like Bev or Brenda either.

  "Your mama is the worst of the lot. So then there's Lenny. My best friend, and my sister's boyfriend."

  "So what you said about Gretta and Lenny when we were telling lies under the bridge is true."

  "A lot of truth to it. Some, just rumors. But the truth is, Lenny and Gretta went together until I latched onto Helen. Your mother had a fit when she found out that Lenny was going with Gretta. She absolutely forbid it. She hates all us Kunze's. She thinks your family is better than ours. So Gretta and Lenny had to sneak around. But then when I started going with Helen, Lenny decided he wanted her too. He took her and she wouldn't see me anymore, for a while. Then Helen and I started sneaking around on Lenny."

  "So Helen was Lenny's girl! You just didn't like it a whole lot."

  "Shut up. You can interpret this any way you want. So your papa caught me with Helen at two o'clock in the morning and he told Lenny, and Lenny brought his pistol out to Beacon road, ran me off, and kept Helen out there naked. Helen left her clothes in my car and I still have 'em. Those precious panties that she would have given her life for, I still have them. Keep them hanging on a nail in my living room. That's what happened the night before Lenny died."

  "Come on, Charles. Tell me the rest. I want it all."

  "You'll get it all. Just hold your horses. I left Lenny and Helen out on Beacon Road, went home. I should have gone to the police, but I couldn't. I went home and set in my room waiting for the sun to come up. Didn't seem like any sense going to bed, so I didn't. I heard dad get up to milk the cows, heard the door bang when he went outside. Just about the time I heard the compressor come on out at the milk barn, there was this peck, peck, peck on my window. It was Lenny. I went over to the window and cracked it a little. I asked him where his pistol was because I was afraid he would use it on me. He said he was through trying to kill me. I opened the window and climbed out. I took my .22 with me though. I didn't trust him that much. We walked along in the dark just before sunrise to the little shack I live in now. We had a hired hand living in it then. The sun was just about to come up. He smiled at me. 'I just wanted you to know that I'm still going to kill you over this,' he said. I reminded him that he just said he was through trying to kill me. 'Besides,' I said, 'she's just a girl, Lenny. Keep some perspective, for christ's sake. She's just a goddamn girl.' And that sorry sonofabitch. You know what he said? Said it like it was a joke. 'I am through trying,' he said. 'I am going to kill you. I just wanted you to know, it's for sure now.' And he walked off and left me standing there. I asked him if he killed Helen. He didn't even bother turning around. 'What do you think?' he asked. 'She was just a whore.' I thought he had killed her. I pointed my .22 right in the center of his back. He knew I was probably going to shoot him. But he didn't even look back."

  Charles stops to catch his breath and starts poking at the hog again, and I'm afraid he'll quit there. And this last part is what I have to know about. But Charles takes the butt of that pistol and whacks that hog across the nose with it. I guess that hog doesn't have a whole lot of feeling in its nose because it doesn't seem too concerned. So Charles turns around a little and bends over like he's looking real close at that hog's snout and, oh shit, I can't believe even Charles did this. Now that hog is squealing and running around like bloody murder. I turn my head, look the other way. Even though I couldn't see much in the dark, it was too much. What Charles did was bend down so he could get that pistol barrel lined up with one of the holes in that hog's snout, the flat end of the snout pointing around in different directions like it had eyes that could see in the dark, and Charles shot a bullet up in it. So the hog is squealing and running around with all the pain of having that bullet stuck somewhere in his head, and he hurts so bad he wants out of that pen. He's trying to climb the fence, first on this side and then on the far side. Charles shines the light on him, and I see blood bubbles coming out his nose. I hear a loud squeal and then six grunts, one for each step while he lumbers toward another spot to try the fence, and when he hits the fence and bounces back, he squeals again. It's as if he knows that if he can get out of that pen the pain will stop.

  Charles has to talk louder for me to hear him over the hog.

  "I went on to school, watching around every corner for Lenny and hoping he would cool down about me. I kept waiting for someone to say that they heard Helen was dead, but they didn't. Lenny didn't come to school. I don't know what he did, but I bet he was off writing in that notebook of his like he was doing all the time. I would sure like to find that notebook. I think Lenny knew what your mama told my mother that made her go crazy. I think maybe he knew. He always acted like he did. I even went to the junkyard after I came back to Chowchilla and bought this old clunker Hudson of his because I thought maybe he hid the notebook somewhere in it. I bought it and went to work at Pistoresi's because that was the only way I could afford to fix it up. I know he used to hide the notebook in the Hudson, up under the dash. I saw him do it many times when we were out together. 'Whoa!' he'd say, 'Time to pull over and write a little about that.' And then he'd reach under the dash and pull out that little blue book. 'I'm a crazy sonofabitch, Charles,' he'd say. 'You just sit over there and watch me be crazy.' But I have stripped this car, and it's just not there. I won't quit looking. I'll find it someday."

  The hog is squealing too loud, so Charles turns around and shoots the suffering sucker in the side. That brings the hog down and I figure he's dead. Must have hit his stomach because it popped like sticking a pin in a balloon. And now it starts to stink like a garbage dump. At least I won't have to listen to all the squealing. But I'm thinking about what Aunt Loretta told me about Lenny coming to her wanting to know if it was okay to kill someone. Sounds like what I've been thinking all along was true. Lenny wanted to kill Charles.

  "That evening after school, just as I was going out in the field to bring the cows in for milking, here comes Lenny."

  "Okay, stop right there." I can tell he's surprised I'm stopping him like this because I haven't said much of anything for a while. "What time was it when you saw him?"

  "It was a little past five. What are you getting at?"

  "Was he hurt?"

  "Let me tell my story and you might find out."

  "Okay. But hurry cause I got to know."

  "Lenny wasn't one to let
things go by without dishing out vengeance. But Lenny looked as if the weight of the world had just lifted from his shoulders. Even though he'd been up for thirty-six hours, he didn't even look tired. 'I've been talking to my mama and now I understand everything. You have a good life,' he told me, and he shook my hand. And then he hit me in the side of the head with his fist, the hardest I've ever been hit and then he hit me in the other side of the head, so I went down, maybe even went out for a second. Then he pulled his pistol out of his back pocket and tossed it onto my lap. 'It's been nice knowing you,' he said. 'Go shoot yourself.' And then he walked off. It was like he was planning a trip, maybe to play baseball for the New York Yankees like he used to always talk about. I really thought he'd made up his mind to go to New York."

  "I don't believe you, Charles. That's just not Lenny." I hear a little grunt out of that hog and he flops a little.

  "I don't even believe it myself. But that's what happened. I was there. I lived it that way. I was still milking cows when Brock pulled up at the barn. I figured he came because they'd finally found Helen's body. "I hate to do this," he told me, he still liked me some then, "but I've got to take you down to the station." I thought right then that Lenny'd told the police that I had killed Helen, and then he took off for New York. I asked why he wanted me, and he said, "For questioning concerning the death of Lenny Hammer."

  "You don't know what happened to Lenny. Do you?"

  "Not really. I didn't see it happen. He had an accident not far from my place and was killed. The policed held me for two days. I knew if I could find Lenny's notebook, it would clear me. But the police let me out just before the funeral because they didn't have enough to hold me on."

  "Lenny wasn't injured when you saw him last?"

  "I don't understand why you think he was."

  "Cause I took a shot at him with my .22 when he left the house after talking to Mama and Papa. I know that when I pulled that fine bead on Lenny's '48 Hudson, my aim was good. I was always a crack shot with that .22. I was aiming to shoot out the license plate light. Scare Lenny a little. I always figured that the bullet had ricocheted and hit Lenny. This is the first time I know for sure that that is not true. At least it's not if you're telling the truth."

  "You didn't shoot him. He couldn't have put me out with two punches if he'd had a bullet hole in him."

  "That night under the bridge," I say, "you told me you put Lenny in the ground."

  "I figure his dying was over Helen. I keep coming and going on this one. If I'd let him have Helen, he probably would have lived. I think he might have... I think he would have..." Now he's up fumbling around with those ropes he was sitting on.

  All at once, while I'm sitting here being so glad about knowing that I didn't kill Lenny, Charles throws all those ropes at me.

  "What the hell," I say. And then he's all over me. He has his elbow in my throat, and I think he just busted my lip. I'm struggling with him but he has these ropes around a couple of posts and before I know it, has my hands tied up over my head.

  "Did I ever tell you about all the fun I used to have bulldogging steers?" he wants to know.

  I hear that old hog grunt and come to its feet. Squeals real loud three times. I think my heart is going to jump out of my chest. I hear the hog breathing through the hole in his chest.

  "Well, now," he says to me. "You got what you wanted from me and now it is my turn with you."

  "Stop it, Charles. Stop it." He has me spread-eagled against the wall. He's up close, hunching, rubbing himself on me like he's having a seizure, bends down over my neck, bites me on the throat like a vampire.

  "Oh, shit, you're going to take out a chunk."

  "That's right. I would like to eat you."

  I feel the buttons down the front of my pants popping loose one at a time. Feel cold air when he pulls down my shorts. I try to kick but I can't fight him off. That old hog tries to come to his feet again. New smells come from him. Then he falls, sucks air, grunts, pants, just trying to get his dying over with.

  I start to swell, feel the warmth inside Charles's mouth, feel his spit running down my balls. "I'll kill you if you don't quit it, Charles."

  I see the hog's sides heaving, his mouth opening and closing, sucking more air. Every breath comes with a groan until he quivers, goes into this straight-legged convulsion, lies still.

  I hear the barn door squeak and then someone asks, "Hey, who the hell's in here?" I see a light beam hit the far wall.

  "Untie me, Charles," I say. "Untie me."

  "Shut the fuck up," whispers Charles, getting his flashlight off the ground and killing the light. "That nigger 'll kill both of us."

  "Hey, mister. Over here. I need some help."

  "Who's at?"

  Charles has his hand over my mouth. That's my smell on his breath. He just shakes his head and backs off. Then he comes toward me again, starts untying me. When he gets the ropes loose, he leaves me to get free and walks on around to the old colored man that's walking toward us real slow. Shines his light on Charles.

  "Pinky? You okay? You here, girl? You guys been messing with my girl? Grunt fer me, Pinky."

  "Hello, there Mr. Nigger," is what Charles is saying to the old man. "How are you?"

  But the old man doesn't like that so he points a little skinny shotgun at Charles, looks like maybe it's a single shot .410.

  "Back off a lil, son. Don't like white fok in ma barn."

  "We just had a little car trouble, but we got it fixed now so we'll be on our way. You about ready, Bobby?"

  "Back up a little, son. Don't get me wrong. Juss don't want you close to me. Want a look at my hog and then we can talk a lil if you like."

  Charles has worked his way around the old man. I can see now that he's crippled, has to scoot his feet instead of taking steps. His lips are moving with this weird motion over and over. Slobber runs down one side of his chin and from the looks of the top to those coveralls, I'd say he's been doing it for about a month. And here I was hoping to get some help from him.

  "Come on, Bobby. Let's get the hell out of here."

  "Oh, jesus. That my hog? Pinky, that you?" His voice doesn't ever change, just that same singsong voice.

  "Bobby, if we don't get out of here, I'm going to have to kill him over that goddamn hog. Either that or let him kill you."

  "Oh, godamighty. You done my hog in."

  So here I'm going out of that barn door after Charles. I put a fist in the middle of his back as that .410 rakes the barn wall. I have to let up or that colored'll kill both of us. Then I'm getting in the car with Charles. Charles starts laughing as little buckshot rakes the car. I hit him with my fist, pound on his shoulder and even get one blow to the side of his head. None of it seems to faze him. He just keeps on laughing. And it's going to be just like nothing happened. I can already see it coming. It's just like nothing happened. How can I ever tell anybody what he did to me tonight?

  CHAPTER 31: Shooting Roof Tops

  I'm sitting in the backseat of Lenny's Hudson, hunkered over in the corner trying to keep from touching Wayne sitting next to me. I don't want his freckles on me. I've been into it with him because he won't leave Eugene alone. Keeps picking on him. It's been raining hard ever since we left Fresno. Melvin's sitting on the other side of Wayne, and he won't keep his mouth shut either. They keep talking about these white girls they were messing around with, and I keep thinking that all I had was a colored girl, no telling what I caught from her, and then what Charles did to me. Charles had Thomas drive and said he wanted me by a window because he has something special for me when we get to Fairmead. And he keeps talking like we had a great time at the colored village. I keep wanting to hit him in the back of the head with a club.

  Thomas takes the turnoff toward Fairmead, the little colored town just outside of Chowchilla.

  "Why are we going through here?" I ask. I don't get an answer. "I've had all the niggers I need tonight," I say.

  Fairmead is southeast of Chowchilla, j
ust across the 99. The only time I've ever been here was when I was ten and Papa took me to see a crop duster that crashed into a house and burned. The pilot and a little colored girl died in it and the bones were still laying there in the ashes and her mama screaming and crying.

  It's dark inside the car except for the dash lights up front that I see reflecting off of Charles' sour face. Charles told Melvin that he got that puffy lip in a fight with a nigger. Melvin didn't feel too good about missing out on the action. I told Melvin that it was a colored girl that hit Charles, but that didn't help him much. Helped Wayne out a little though. He couldn't quit laughing. It's raining hard outside, so the windshield wipers keep slapping. This old country road is full of large puddles, sometimes so deep they slow the car and send out spray on both sides. I need a good soaking in the bathtub.

  Thomas slows a little as we come into Fairmead. Place is actually not a town, just a few houses and a store, and I hear a clicking sound from up front that I've heard before. I look up and see the shiny metal barrel of Lenny's pistol. Charles has just filled the clip.

  Melvin's raising hell because Charles is rolling down the window letting rain come through in big drops. I don't know what Charles is shooting at so close to those houses, but I hear the crack of the pistol and see it jump, forcing his arm upward.

  "What the hell are you shooting at?" I ask.

  "Rooftops."

  "Oh, shit. Here we go again."

  And then he fires and I hear the thud over the sound of the road as the bullet hits the roof.

  "Hey, you black bastards!" he shouts. "Get your black asses back to Africa!"

  And then Melvin has to put his stuff in. "Eat shit, niggeerrrs!" he screams.

  "You're going to kill someone, Charles," I tell him.

  "That's no big matter, Bobby. They're just like dogs, dogs and baby dogs." At the other end of town, Charles says, "Turn around, Thomas." And Thomas is taking orders without question and driving real slow. Charles turns toward me as he rolls up his window. He's holding the pistol up over the backseat in his left hand. "Here, Bobby. It's your turn."