Late on a Saturday evening...One, Two and Three were finally tired of questioning me about my latest trip South. One was downstairs with his music, Two was in his room with his noise, and Three was watching 'The Client' on tape. I worked at the computer. Somebody pulled into the driveway and the dogs, one upstairs with us and one downstairs with One, erupted. Three answered the door.
Billy: Is your mother home, Son? I looked up. The Voice of Doom. #3: Yeah. Why? Billy picks up Three, moves him aside, and strides into my little house. Billy: Cause I got a can of Whoop-Ass for her, boy. Woman, where you at? I jumped away from the computer and darted into the kitchen. My intent was to slip out through the garage and run screaming across the football field behind the house. Billy plunged across the living room and cut me off at the garage door. I jumped back. Deb: What do you want? Billy: What do you think I want? Come over here to me. Deb: Do I look crazy? Billy: You hear me, girl? Come here. I come over there, it won't be pretty. I headed back into the dining room. No way I could make the front door, I knew that, but standing there looking him in the eye made me understand more the fatal inaction of a rabbit staring into a pair of headlights. Deb: You want to kick my butt, you gotta catch me. Billy: Have it your way. Billy chased me around the inside of the house for a minute or two. He had greater speed, and my advantage was in knowing where things were. It made us about even. The footsteps brought One up out of the basement. Deb: I'll sic my oldest on you! Billy wasn't even winded. Billy: That one? Siddown, boy. One: Okay. Deb: Who's side you on?! #1: Blood runs thicker than water, but this is testosterone, Ma. Billy: That the one wants to be me when he grows up? #1: Billy? Billy: Put it there, Son. Now stay outa the way. #1: Yessir! Deb: Thanks for the help, o idiot child of my loins. #1: Don't mention it. Billy: Get on over here, now, girl. Deb: Bite me. Billy jumped at me. I leaped backwards, almost stumbled over the dog. Deb: Don't you touch me! I'll kick you square in the nads! Billy: Please. Deb: I mean it! Billy: Can't you do better than that? Deb: I'm warning you! Billy: You're what? Deb: I'm not going through this again, am I? Fatal error - I dropped my guard. Billy was practically in my lap before I recovered. I tried to boot him, but he easily caught my foot and tipped me back onto the couch beside Three. Billy: Teach ya to mess with your betters. Here, boy, go on over t'the Burger King. I want my change. Billy tossed One a twenty and seized my arm to drag me out of the house. It was a lot like Sam's cuffs only worse, because Sam's cuffs didn't tighten up. Billy threw me in the Suburban. I tried to scramble out the other side, but now his speed came to his advantage and he headed me off. Billy: Goin' someplace without me? Deb: I had hoped so. Billy: Sit tight, woman. You got some s'plainin' to do. Deb: Yes, Ricky, I s'pose I do. Billy drove, fast but well, to a place where we would be undisturbed while sitting in the car. There weren't too many such places any more - Billy seemed to have instinctively found one. Billy: Now, whadda you mean, I got my key back? Deb: First things first, I see. I looked in the back seat and, sure enough, there was the jacket. I reached back and took hold of it, pulled it into the front and began going through the pockets. It took me a minute or two, sifting by feel through things I had no wish to identify for fear they would incriminate me, but I finally found the key. I pulled it out and dangled it in front of Billy's nose. Deb: See. In your pocket. Billy: Why did you put it back? Deb: It was losing its hassle factor. And I didn't need it any more. Billy: How much does Gerard know? Deb: Nothing. Billy: You expect me to believe that? Deb: You can do whatever the hell you want, son. I didn't tell Sam a thing. Billy: He didn't take off his shirt? Deb: As a matter of fact, he was in bed when I found him again. No shirt, pants barely done up, hair all over the place and his eyes...migod. And no, I didn't tell him a damn thing. Billy: Why not? Deb: Should I have? Would that have confirmed your opinion of me as a typical feather-headed woman? Should Beth have spilled her guts? For as long as she's been riding herd on you, you don't trust her? Billy: What are you yellin' at me for? Deb: Cause I can get away with it! And I don't know how much longer it'll take you to remember you're a Neanderthal and whang me into the back seat! Billy: Deputy Dawg stood in front of you with no shirt on, you're tellin' me you didn't give me up... Deb: Turn on the light, Strannix, I need to write this down. Bill Strannix, speechless as of... Billy: Oh, shut up. What did you tell him? Deb: I made something up. I don't know what the hell you do down there and I don't care. Neither does Beth. The less we know, the better. I saw the computers. I told Sam I thought maybe you fixed them. Billy: You know how I fix computers? Deb: I think I can guess. I didn't say anything about the guns. For all I know, you've got enough Bolivian Marching Powder down there to supply Dallas for a year...I didn't look. I didn't spend enough time down there to look. Billy: Why'd you mess with things? Deb: Seemed like the thing to do. Sam told me I had to tell him when I saw you and to tell him anything I found out. Billy: So what're you gonna do? Deb: Tell him just enough to keep him quiet. Billy: You tell me what you tell him, dammit. Deb: Why don't you both just check in once a week? Or maybe I can post it on my page so you both know. Billy leaned way into my space. Billy: Don't push it. Deb: All right, okay, I'll tell you as soon as I tell him anything. Here I'm tryin' to keep your butt out of jail and it looks like I'm gonna land myself there before too much longer. Billy: That's my girl. You just trust me...you'll be fine. Deb: Why do I get the feeling you said something a lot like that to Krill? Billy had no answer, just a huge smile for me. I was in it now, and there was no backing out.
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