Free Jack and Mr. Grin by Andersen Prunty Page A

asked.
    “No. Not a lot. Like I said, just a couple times maybe. I told her she shouldn’t do that. A lot of girls end up getting hurt that way. Hurt or catching some kind of disease.” Sam shook his head, inhaled again.
    “Do you know if she had any stalkers or anything like that?”
    “No. I don’t think so. Gina didn’t really let guys down easy. Once she was finished with them, they didn’t really have any interest in her.”
    “Why’s that?”
    “She just doesn’t let them down easy, that’s all.”
    Jack wondered if that’s what this was. Could it be? Could she have grown tired of him and concocted this whole thing just to make him want absolutely nothing to do with her? It was possible, he guessed. Hell, anything was possible. But this was Gina, his Gina. They loved each other. He didn’t think she would do anything like that to him.
    “So what’s been goin on?” Sam asked.
    Jack told him. He told him as quickly as possible but tried not to leave anything out. Even the smallest detail that meant nothing to him might mean something to Sam. All the while, he was conscious of the time, slipping through his fingers.
    Sam sat back on the couch, completely stoned, his eyes barely opened, listening to it all.
    When Jack was finished, Sam said, “That is fucked up !”
    Then he screamed. Threw himself off the couch and onto the floor, his right hand wrapped around his left wrist, his girth covering both of his arms like he was trying to put out some kind of fire.
    Jack went to him, kneeling down beside him as Sam flopped on the cluttered floor. Jack put his arm across Sam’s shoulders.
    “It’s okay,” he said, trying to comfort him. “Just hang on.”
    “ Oh Jesus fuck! ” he shouted. He was now doubled up, his forehead resting on the floor, his knees pulled up into his ample stomach.
    Jack held him tighter.
    Sam suddenly uncoiled himself, pushing against Jack, forcing him onto the couch.
    Sam’s eyes were full of rage. Jack saw the brand on his arm. This one was bloody, as though they had gained intensity. Or maybe it was because pain was the object of the mark and since Sam had undergone efforts to dull the coming pain, the mark had to be a little fiercer, a little more violent.
    “ Get the fuck out of here! ” he roared.
    “It’s okay, Sam. It’s just me, Jack.”
    “ What did you do to her! What did you do to her you sick fuck! ”
    “Nothing!” Jack shouted, feeling defensive. Sam had it all wrong. Jack was trying to help Gina. He would never hurt her.
    Sam grabbed the heavy bong from the table. Jack stood up, backing away toward the door.
    “Don’t,” Jack said.
    “You’re not getting away.” Sam raised the bong over his head.
    Before Jack could even attempt to leave the apartment or get out of the way, the bong was hurling at him, shattering against his shoulder, cutting through his shirt.
    “Fuck!”
    Maybe he should run. Just get the hell away from the suddenly raging Sam as fast as he could. But he was tired of running. If he just left it at this then he wouldn’t have got what he came here for, which was Sam’s help.
    “Help me!” he shouted. “Help me find her, Sam!”
    “I’m not helping you do anything.”
    Sam crossed the room toward Jack, dragging comic books beneath his feet. He clasped his large hands around Jack’s shoulders.
    “Get away from the fucking door. You’re not going anywhere.”
    He threw Jack into the middle of the room, into the coffee table.
    That one hurt. The wood dug into his back.
    Sam stood over him, kicking at him. Jack rose up and lunged at Sam’s knees. He put everything into it and managed to force him back and then down onto the floor. It probably helped that Sam was so stoned. Otherwise, Jack didn’t see how he could possibly take him down.
    Sam landed a punch to the side of Jack’s head. Everything washed red and black before he landed his own punch in the middle of Sam’s face. He didn’t like the way Sam’s nose felt under