Free HELLz BELLz by Randy Chandler

nice guy. And I trust you.”
    “Thanks.” He caught himself enjoying the feel of her breast on his arm and immediately felt guilty. He wondered: How can a man be so worried about his wife and at the same time enjoy copping a feel of a strange woman’s tit?
What kind of man does that? Are we all such primitive beasts?
    Almost as if in answer to his silent question, a dapper man in white shoes, pressed khakis and a pale blue pullover shirt sprang from the mouth of a dark alley and swung a golf club at Joe’s head. The crazed golfer shouted a demented war cry as Joe threw up his free arm and warded off what would have been a blow to his head. The golf club bounced off Joe’s right forearm, and a jolt of pain ran like electricity up his arm to his shoulder. The dapper man regained control of his club and drew back for another strike. A bloodstained golf hat sat sideways on his head.
    Suzie hopped-skipped toward the dapper man and kicked him, the toes of her shoes landing squarely between his legs. The man folded and dropped to his knees, then fell over on his side and curled into a fetal ball, alternately groaning and blowing his breath like a woman in natural childbirth.
    Joe picked up the golf club and hurled it into the dark alley. He resisted the urge to kick the man’s teeth in.
    “Jesus Christ, are you crazy?” Suzie shouted at the man on the sidewalk. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”
    “Out of his fucking mind,” Joe said, rubbing his aching arm. “You nailed him good.”
    “Well, he scared me! Serves him right.”
    “Come on,” he said, “let’s keep moving. Moving targets are harder to hit.”
    They hurried on down the sidewalk. Suzie said, “What the hell’s wrong with everybody? Did terrorists slip something in the water supply? Jesus! Everybody’s fucking nuts!”
    “I don’t know, but I’m starting to believe that damn bell really is making people crazy. Am I crazy for believing that?”
    “If you are, I am too. But how come we’re not going bananas like them?” She thoughtfully pinched her lower lip. “I never kicked a man like that before. And you know what? I
liked
it. Maybe it
is
affecting me.”
    “I wanted to kick his teeth in,” Joe confessed. “I wanted to kick him to death.”
    “But you didn’t.”
    “Maybe it affects everybody differently.”
    “Maybe. Or maybe we’re not bananas yet because we couldn’t hear the bell over the jukebox in Bill’s.”
    “But it doesn’t make sense. I mean, how could a bell ringing make people violent? It’s just not possible.”
    “Yeah? Well, why don’t you go explain that to your golfer friend? And that psycho cop.”
    “God, now I’m
really
worried about Sara. What if some psycho broke in and—”
    “Calm down,” she said. “You have to keep a cool head so you can handle whatever we might find at your house. Okay?”
    He saw that she was looking warily at him. “Yeah. You’re right, you’re right. But Jesus…”
    “Yeah. I know.”
    A muffled boom startled them. They both jumped. They picked up their already fast pace.
    “What
was
that?” she asked.
    “Explosion. Something blew up, somewhere. Something big.”
    “Shit, now I’m scared. We’ve got to get off the streets. What if some whacko decides to do a little drive-by shooting?” She glanced anxiously over her shoulder. “Maybe we should stuff our ears so we can’t hear that bell so good.”
    “Good idea.” He pulled the pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket, withdrew two cigarettes and broke off the filter tips. He threw away the tobacco ends and gave the two filter tips to Suzie. She stuck one in each ear. Joe broke off two more and stuffed them in his ears. “Used to do this at rock concerts whenever I was close to the stage. I’d probably be deaf if I hadn’t.”
    “Neat trick. I can still hear it, but it’s not as loud. Maybe it’ll keep us sane.”
    They rounded another corner and the Jiffy-Quick Mini-Mart came into view. Joe’s