Deb:  Sam...?

Sam:  Don't ask.  Please.

Don't ask what?  Instantly I was thinking of Bill, my hunch, his odd
behavior of the night Ryan and Jade and Elmore arrived.  Here it was, the
thing I'd been waiting for.  Sam had brought it with him, unerring as a
homing pigeon.

Deb:  Why aren't you in Lubbock?

Sam:  No reason to stay.

Now, what the hell did that mean?  I could see there was no way
to save Bill from this.  I could only try to deflect some of it, but on
order to do that I had to know what 'it' was.

Deb:  Gerard, where is she?

There was a pause long enough for people to get old and die.

Deb:  Sam...?

Sam:  Dead.  She's dead.

I felt my knees give way and it was a good thing the chair was right
behind me.  Sam was rooted to the spot.

I flashed on everything we had done in the short time we had known one
another...gunrunning from Mexico, standing by while the Federal Building
in Chicago was 'fumigated', our unscheduled trip south of the border to
meet Julie and Menudo...moving her into the little house north of Lubbock,
the testosterone festival of opening the Corner, cracking into the sacred
and holy basement...

Basement.

Bill.

This was going to tear him apart.

Deb:  Oh, Sammy, no.  Tell me this is some sick joke you two fartknockers
cooked up between you.

Sam:  I wish that's all it was.

The man was broken, utterly shattered.  I had no doubt that his natural
resilience would kick in and he would be his irascible self once more, but
in the meantime he looked like someone had shot his dog.  I did the only
thing I could, did my best to push aside thoughts of Bill so that I could
reach out to my big brother.

Deb:  Sam, I'm so sorry.  What...how did it happen?

Sam:  She was on her way to your place to see if there was anything she
could do for Elmore...

And if Elmore ever got wind of that there would be a certain United
States Deputy Marshal who would have a rough time picking his boxers out
of the crack of his ass.

Sam:  ...man tried to pass her and cut back in too early.  She had another
car behind her and couldn't brake, so she did the next best thing, hit
the shoulder, doing 60 miles per hour...

Deb:  Jesus, and that shoulder is nothing but loose grsvel.

Sam:  I know it.  She lost control, rolled the car...the gas line
ruptured...

Deb:  I think you can stop now.

There was no stopping him.

Sam:  Accident knocked her out.  The seatbelt mechanism was jammed, she
couldn't have got out...

Deb:  Gerard, shut the goddamn hell up!

Sam:  They needed dental records.  This was the only place I could think
to come.  Can I stay?

Deb:  You know you can, as long as you need to.  But let me tell Bill.

Invitation to disaster, with my blunt delivery.  Naturally I hadn't
heard him come through the back door.

Bill:  Tell me what, girl?

Deb:  Bill...

I stopped, swallowed, couldn't think how to go on.

Deb:  It's...she's...

Bill:  C'mon, c'mon...spit it out.

Sam:  She's gone, Strannix.

Sam's voice was flat and void of emotion.  He shot Bill a challenging
look.  Bill grinned hugely, and I dreaded what would take the place of that
look when he learned the truth.

Bill:  'Bout time she booted your cracked ass, Dawg...

Deb:  No, Billy, it's not that.  There's been an accident...

I should have known it would be bad, but I had never seen him go
absolutely white before.

Bill: Really fell down on the job this time, didncha, Dawg?

Sam: What the hell kinda shit is that, Strannix?

Sam was trying to maintain the tough facade, but it was plain to 
see that his heart wasn't in it.

Bill: S'posed t'be watchin' the girl.

I couldn't let that go unchallenged.

Deb: Come on, Bill, be fair. How much luck have you had watching me?

Bill: Stay out of this, baby. Whatcha got t'say for y'self, Dawg?

Sam: It was an accident, Strannix. An accident.

Sam wasn't even fighting back. But Bill's big fists were clenching 
and releasing and his jaw was so tight it quivered visibly. Sam was 
going to need to fight soon. It was the only thing liable to help Bill 
feel better.

Bill: In my business...

A flash of Federal Anger...and about time, too.

Sam: Ah, I was waiting for that and there it is. Your business. Why 
dontcha tell us all about your goddamned business, young man?

Bill: No accidents in my business. Just bad planning, inattention.

Bill was moving in on Sam and the menace in his posture was 
unmistakable.

Sam: Just what're you sayin', jackoff?

Bill: You need me t'spell it? You'd'a done your job right, she'd be 
here.

Time for the happy idiot to put in another appearance. It would only 
be form, the two of then were on a head-on collision course.

Deb: Bill, would you dial it back a little?

I laid a hand on his arm and he flung it away. There was no time 
for anything now but Sam and the mutual hatred they bore one another, 
now exacerbated by grief and loss.

I was nothing, however, if not persistent.

Deb: This isn't going to accomplish anything.

Bill: Woman, shut your head.

Sam: Stay out of this, L'il Sis.

Bill was advancing steadily now and Sam was holding his ground. I 
had always wanted to be present when the proverbial rock met the 
legendary hard place, but not in the middle of my for-Chrissakes 
kitchen.

Bill: You killed 'er, Dawg. Sure as if you'd'a shot her.

Oh, hell. Cheap melodrama,and out of Bill, yet.

Sam: I killed her? You're off your goddamned rocker, boy.

Bill and Sam stood opposite one another, glaring, like a couple 
of old toms sizing up the competition. Then Bill moved.

As always, when Bill went from inaction to action, it was 
explosive. But he did not advance on Sam.  Instead, he picked me 
up around the waist and hauled me into the dining room.

Bill: Keep your ass out here, girl.

Deb: Bill, there's no point...

But he had returned to the kitchen. I wasn't about to go back in
that room, because they were about to cream each other. On the other 
hand, I wasn't about to allow them to trash my kitchen, either, My 
first impulse was to go get Elmore...

Deb: Oh, hell...

How could I involve Elmore and let him find out so bluntly...
the answer was, I couldn't. But I could go and get Ryan. I tore up 
the stairs, yelling for Ryan.

Ryan: Lass, Jade's sleepin'...

There was a drowsy voice from the bedroom.

Jade: Not anymore.

Deb: Sorry...

Elmore poked his head out of his room. As always, I was struck 
by Elmore's physical beauty. If what I had been taught was true 
and the body was a temple...for one thing, Elmore was a cathedral 
and, for another, it was one temple that was going to be filled 
with sorrow in a matter of minutes. The thought saddened me and, 
not for the first time, I wished passionately that it would be possible 
to save him from it.

Ryan: What were you wanting me for, lass?

Deb: Bill and Sam are going to beat hell out of each other.

Ryan: So, let them.

Deb: They'll take my kitchen with them.

Ryan: Ah, I see. The lady's kitchen must be preserved at all costs. 
Lead on.

Gallantly, Ryan followed me into the hall. Elmore joined him, and 
I did my best to dissuade him.

Deb: No, Elmore...

Elmore: Aw, Ma...Ryan's gonna need some help. You know what it's gonna 
be like...

He let his voice trail off, grinned charmingly and shrugged.

Deb: I know what it'll be like.

There was no putting Elmore off. He followed Ryan down the stairs 
and I trailed after the two of them. The thumps and crashes, grunts 
and curses from the kitchen were frightening to hear, but I didn't 
think too much about it until I heard Bill's voice raised in fury.

Bill: ...ya hadda let her die in that goddamned Subaru...

I had learned a lot about Elmore...among many things that his 
old boy act was just that, an act. Elmore had survival instincts as 
sharply honed as my own and he didn't need any explanation. Upon 
hearing those words, he knocked Ryan aside like so much lint and 
charged into the kitchen. Ryan stopped at the door, short of going 
in.

Ryan: No point in going in there, lass.

I wasn't going to argue with that one. Elmore had taken charge of 
the situation, and I didn't feel the least bit sorry for either of the 
other two. Bill and Sam were big and tough but Elmore was an ex-boxer 
and he had the moves. He fought silenty, ferociously,and with tears 
flowing down his cheeks.

Ryan and I sat in the dining room, listening to the fracas for all 
the world like a couple of goons glued to a radio play. Once in a while 
there would be a particularly sharp crash and I would gasp, picturing 
the destruction being brought upon my belongings. Or there would be a 
markedly deep grunt and Ryan would flinch in sympathy.

At length, the sounds of strife first slowed and then stopped. 
Elmore trudged through the dining room. He was going to have a most 
impressive shiner before he was through and his t-shirt had been 
totaled, but he was still ambulatory. I had the distinct feeling that 
there were going to be a couple of big buggers in the kitchen who 
looked a lot worse. In any case, it was Elmore I was worried about. 
His eyes were tragic.

Bill and Sam appeared in the kitchen doorway. 

Ryan: Ye get the number of that truck, boyo?

Odd to hear an American piece of smartassery in Ryan's lilting 
accent.

Bill: Shut the hell up, Gaerity. Baby?

Deb: You know where the bathroom is, Sugar Ray. Poor Elmore...

I trailed after Elmore, leaving Ryan to ask more bright and 
sarcastic questions. I wanted to comfort the boy desperately and 
wasn't sure he would allow me to try. I found him sitting on the 
edge of his bed, slumped over with his hair hanging in his face. 
He was utterly still. I sat lightly beside him, ready to leave 
instantly if he wanted.

Deb: Elmore?

Shyly, I touched him between the shoulderblades. He raised his 
eyes to mine and I saw that the tears continued to flow unchecked. 
Without so much as a sound, he slid to his knees, wrapped his massive 
arms around my waist and pressed his wet face to my lap. I pushed my 
fingers into his thick, dark hair and stroked the curve of his skull. 
At that moment, Elmore was more of a man than any of them. He faced 
his grief head on and attempted to work it out, rather than try to 
expiate it by blaming someone else. And of all of them, Elmore was 
most qualified to lay blame, because he had never had his chance with 
the woman he had loved so unselfishly. Every time it looked good for 
him, some jackass like Bill or Sam screamed in and got in the way. But 
he was trying to speak.

Elmore: Why, Ma...why her?

Deb: Who knows, Elmore?

Elmore: All I ever wanted was t'love 'er..

It was a cry from somewhere deep in Elmore's private hell, and 
all I could do was to cry with him. I noticed Bill waiting in the 
doorway, doing his best to get my attention. I ignored him until he 
went on his way. I would stay with Elmore until he felt better, for 
as long as it took.

Deb: I knew, Elmore, I know. But you did love her, and she knew it. 
She loved you back, as much as she could. I know she did, she told me.

It wasn't a complete lie.

Elmore: Did she? Really?

Deb: Really, Elmore.

I thought of all the times I had seen a look of sad understanding, 
the wistful smile whenever the subject of Elmore came up. I had seen 
her fly up in Bill's face a time or two in the boy's defense and 
though Bill had backed off in amusement I'd had the feeling that she 
might have made him back off for real if he'd insisted on his usual 
shitheaded conduct.

Neither one of us heard Sam take Bill's place in the doorway.

Elmore: I wish it'd been different, Ma...

Sam: Might've been better for her if it had.

Both of us jumped, me higher than Elmore. The boy got to his feet 
and faced Sam with immense dignity.

Elmore: I loved 'er. Longer than...

Sam cut him off and I heard an unfamilir note in his voice. It 
was gentleness. She had told me he was capable of it but I hadn't 
believed her.

Sam: I know you did, boy. And Deb's right, she loved you back. In fact
...I saved some of her stuff...I thought you might want it.

Sam wore a look of limitless compassion and I excused myself in 
the face of it. All things considered, I thought Sam might be more 
of a comfort to Elmore than I could hope to be. Besides, two men 
united in their grief didn't need an onlooker.

Ryan: Things be settlin', lass?

Deb: For the moment. Until Bill decides Sam's ass needs further kicking.

Suddenly the idea of riding herd on Bill's volatile temper was 
absolutely unappealing to me. I was hurting myself, and the prospect 
of having to stuff that in order to hold Bill's hand didn't seem 
fair.

Ryan: Ye leave yon wee boyo t'me, mo chroi.

Ryan hit me with his mischievious, charming grin.

Ryan: She's shuffled off this mortal coil and gone to join the 
choir invisible, lass.

Deb: Spare me the Python, you goofy bastard.

Ryan: Someone needs to be a goofy bastard.

Deb: Nobody more suited to that than you, either.

I pinched his cheek and he hugged me before sending me to the 
end of the hall with a swat on the behind.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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