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

night.”
    “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been drinking. You’re acting more like an idiot than usual.”
    “Well, we going out to eat, or what?”
    “The weather—”
    “It cleared off about the time I drove up.”
    “I guess we could… You stay away that long again, weather’s like that, give me a call, okay?”
    “I’m sorry, honey.” I held out my arms and she came to me and we kissed lightly and I ran my hands over her ass.
    “Keep that up, Buster, and I’m going to do you the way we have to do Wylie, only I won’t knee you in the chest.”
    “Promise?”
    She pushed away from me with a smile. “Don’t push your luck.”
    “Ah, come on. You know you married me because I’ve got a big dick.”
    “You’re a legend in your own mind, sweetheart.”
    “That hurts.”
    “Good. I’m going to brush my teeth. You call the kids down and get them ready.”
    “Oh, great. How about I go brush my teeth and you call them down and get them ready?”
    “Uh-uh. I’ve been with the sweet little shits all afternoon. It’s your turn to have fun playing
Leave It To Beaver.”
    “But I’m scared of them.”
    “Me too.”
    She left the room and I poured myself a glass of ice tea. I leaned against the fridge and drank it. Everything seemed back to normal, I was home in my warm house with my kids upstairs gluttoning out on a video tape and Bev and I had talked ourselves into going out to eat, which suited me just fine. Beverly hated to cook, and you could tell it from her cooking which tasted as if it had been purposely mistreated and made to taste memorable, if not enjoyable. That’s why I did a lot of the cooking when I wasn’t working. I had a strong sense of survival.
    I finished the tea and called the kids down, and they never knew I’d been gone. My nine-year-old, Sammy, came down the stairs his usual way. Sideways, both hands on the rail, hopping with both feet from step to step so hard his dark blond hair bounced as he came.
    “Cut that out, would you?” I said. “You’re shaking the whole house.”
    “Okay,” he said, but he didn’t stop. He finished off the stairs that way. JoAnn came down a few moments later, taking the steps the way you were supposed to, but talking as she came. “Daddy, Sammy called me a turd and he hit me too.”
    “Well, don’t do that, Sammy,” I said. “Listen up, kids. We’re going to go out to eat. I want you two to go brush your teeth… No. I want Sammy to go brush his teeth, and JoAnn, you go to your room and we’ll lay you out some clothes.”
    We went into her room, dodging stuffed toys and kicking mounds of scissored paper scraps aside. I picked out a dress for her. She said, “Daddy, I don’t want a dress.”
    “When I pick out pants you want a dress,” I said.
    She shook her long, red hair. “Please, Daddy?”
    “All right.”
    We picked out a shirt with a dog on it and some jeans.
    I left her to dress, told her I’d be back to help her put on her socks, then I went to check on Sammy in the bathroom. I made him quit playing with his toothbrush and finally got him to get down to what he was supposed to do, and when that was done, we went to his room and waded through toys and books and got him some clean jeans and a flannel shirt out of the closet.
    “Wear your slip-on tennis shoes,” I said, digging a pair of socks out of his sock drawer.
    “I don’t know where they are, “ he said.
    “Well, look for them.”
    “I can’t find them.”
    “You haven’t looked. Get down and look under the bed.”
    “They’re not under there.”
    “How do you know? You haven’t looked.”
    The phone rang.
    “You look while I answer that,” I said.
    I caught the phone on the third ring. “Hello.”
    “Uncle Hank. I’m scared.”
    “Hey, I just left you.”
    “It seems like a long while, and I just got this feeling things are going to get worse.”
    “Take it easy,” I said. I looked up the stairs to see if Beverly were coming