Free Waltz of Shadows by Joe R. Lansdale, Mark A. Nelson Page A

ago I buried in a tin can along with you being my brother, and I know I owe you a debt I can never pay and I resent it, but our stupid nephew has his balls tacked to a board, and since it’s something illegal and dangerous, I thought of you immediately.
    He’d probably have punched my lights out, and I wouldn’t have blamed him.
    A big yellow dog came out from under the mobile home, squeezed past the lawn mower handle and looked in my direction and barked. I got in the pickup and pulled around in a tight half-circle, backed some, straightened the truck on the road, and started away from there.
    As I went, I glanced in my rearview mirror. Through a parting in the trees, I saw the door of the trailer open and a huge, bearded man step out, then I was going around a curve and couldn’t see him anymore.
     
     
     

7
     
     
       Before I reached home the sky grew death black and the rain slammed the truck and the wind rocked it. I drove along carefully through town and passed the city limits sign and made the subdivision called Black Oak just as the sky went strangely absent of rain and there was a split in the clouds, and the dying sun dripped off the pines and oaks and trickled over the ground as if being absorbed.
    Black Oak isn’t really much of a subdivision. It’s practically in the country, and everyone out here owns anywhere from one to three acres. The residents are mostly quiet and like to pretend they’re in the suburbs, which is damn funny. A creek runs alongside our house, and behind us is a thick woods where curious deer stick their heads out now and then and cranes wade in the creek and spear minnows with their long, sharp bills.
    I nosed the truck up our long drive to the garage, pressed the garage door opener, drove inside and closed up. I sat in the truck and felt warm and comfortable for a while, but the feeling passed.
    I plucked the photo album off the seat of the truck and held it in my hand, but didn’t open it. I got the coat off the floorboard and wrapped it around the album and put the coat and what it contained on the floorboard on top of my guns.
    I didn’t want to walk in the house with the album and have to answer questions. Not yet anyway. I knew I’d eventually tell Beverly, but not until I thought some things through and figured what to do.
    When I came in the back way, Wylie met me at the door with his squeaking yellow porcupine toy. He poked it into my balls and jumped on me. I kneed him in the chest like you’re supposed to do to break a dog of the habit. He yipped in pain and dropped the porcupine and picked it up again. This time he just poked me in the balls with it and didn’t jump up on me. I patted him on the head, took it out of his mouth and prepared to toss it for him to catch, just as Beverly came in from the living room.
    “I was about ready to send out the National Guard,” she said.
    “We got to talking,” I said.
    Wylie could see where this was leading. No porcupine tossing. I had my hand down by my side with his porcupine in it, and he mouthed it out of my fingers and left the room, looking for someone more sympathetic to a dog’s needs.
    “I didn’t even know where to call or look for you,” Beverly said. “Billy moves so much I can’t keep up with him. He still in that place over on Rose?”
    “No.”
    “See what I mean? You should have called, you were going to be this long. I wanted us to go out to eat.”
    “You’re right. I’m sorry. Have you eaten?”
    “No, but JoAnn has. She was hungry.”
    “Well, let’s go out anyway. JoAnn never likes anything except McDonald’s, and I’d rather have my dick cut off than eat there.”
    “Shhhh, the kids will hear.”
    “They in the living room?”
    “Upstairs watching cartoons.”
    “Then they won’t hear… Don’t they watch too much TV?”
    “It’s Saturday. They always watch too much TV on Saturday.”
    “Oh yeah, that’s right. I’m all turned around. I thought it was a school