Free Dreadful Summit by Stanley Ellin Page A

wash your hands. On the opposite side were a couple of booths and a couple of standing places. The cane was hanging over the door of the last booth, and Al Judge was washing his hands in the sink.
    My mind was working a mile a minute. When I came in I felt the door and there wasn’t any lock I could snap to keep people out, but next to me was a big window that opened on to an alley. If something went wrong, I could be out that window in a second.
    I moved so my back was against the window, and I slipped the safety off the gun and started to pull it out of my pocket. All this time he was rubbing soap arsund his hands and each finger like I saw doctors in the movies when they get ready for an operation or something. He didn’t look around at me once.
    Then all of a sudden the door swung open and a guy came walking in right over to the middle sink so he stood between me and Al Judge. I hardly got the gun shoved back in my pocket when I saw the guy was the same one who got my ten dollars, and I started to tighten up again, the way I did when he had me pushed back against the radiator.
    He pulled up his coat sleeves a little, and then he saw Al Judge and said, ‘Hello, Al,’ and Al Judge said, ‘How’s everything, Peck?’
    The guy was slopping water all over his hands, not careful like Al Judge but any which way, and then he took a paper towel from the rack and said, ‘Can’t complain. How’d you like the fight?’
    Al Judge said, ‘It stunk,’ and he got a towel too, and started to dry his hands. All that time I stood by the window and didn’t move. I was afraid if I moved, this guy Peck would see me and start trouble. Then Al Judge went out through the door and it happened just the way I was afraid it would. I took one step after him, and this guy got a good look at me and then quick shoved the door shut with his foot so he was standing in front of me with his back to the door. He said, ‘What is this, bud? Your hangout?’
    Maybe Al Judge would hang around the bar some more and maybe he wouldn’t, but I couldn’t take any chances on it. I reached around Peck for the doorknob, but he had his back jammed tight against it. I said, ‘Honest, Mr Peck, I’m not doing anything. I just came in to take a leak and I have to get out quick because I think my friend is waiting.’
    â€˜My name is Peckinpaugh, bud.’
    â€˜I didn’t know. I heard Mr Judge call you Peck so I thought that was your name. Please, Mr Peckinpaugh, I have to see my friend.’
    He pushed my hand away from the doorknob and said, ‘Don’t shove me around, bud. Don’t you know about me? I don’t like to have anybody shove me around.’
    I could see in my mind the way Al Judge was going out of the front door and going away some place where I couldn’t find him, and I started to tremble all over. Not from being scared, but just because I was so sore. I tried to grab the doorknob again and I said, ‘I’m not trying to shove you around. I just want to get out of here.’
    â€˜I don’t like anybody to call me a liar either, bud,’ he said, and all of a sudden he slammed me right across the face with his hand. ‘What are you up to, bud? If you’re on the level, what are you sweating about?’
    I don’t remember in all my life anybody ever hit me like that. I was so surprised I just put my hand up there and I could almost feel my cheek swelling up under it.
    I yelled, ‘You got my ten bucks! Isn’t that enough! Why don’t you let me alone!’
    I saw from his face he was mad enough to kill me. He let go of my wrists to grab at the front of my overcoat with both hands, and that was all the chance I needed. Before he had his hands on me I had the gun out. I went back one step and swung the butt against his head as hard as I could: It shows how quick your mind can work, because when I went for the gun I only