The one who broke away now ran over to the side, just as the one held by Aspirin started fighting for real, but Aspirin pulled the boy’s elbow behind his back. The act of violence felt unexpectedly good; perhaps that was how the cuddliest, most domesticated predator goes wild at the scent of its victim.
“Dude, what are you talking about? What robbery? What rape?”
“In the front entrance. A month ago. The girl recognized you. And someone else will recognize you eventually, you little bastard.”
The one who’d broken free jumped away a few more steps and picked up a rock. “Let him go!”
“You are looking at jail time yourself,” Aspirin promised, maneuvering the other kid so that he would most likely take the rock to the face if his friend threw it. “They’ll be coming for you. Will bang down your parents’ door and haul you away. So go ahead, throw the rock, add to your term.”
The kid dropped the rock and disappeared. Aspirin pushed his prisoner against the wall. He considered taking the kid to the police station, but his outburst of passion was dwindling. And the closest police station was two whole blocks away . . .
“Tell me your name and your address, or I’ll cut your balls off.”
“What did I do?” the kid whined.
“You know what you’ve done. You can’t get away. I will find you. And your friend. Talk!”
He slammed the boy’s forehead into the garage wall, not too violently, but the wall echoed anyway.
“Take your money,” the boy screeched. “What if I got nothing to eat! Take it, choke on it, bastard!” And then he started crying, in bitter, heaving, slobbery sobs, and Aspirin became aware of his complete power over this pitiful, nasty, cowardly, and cruel creature, who was bound to spoil everything he touched, bound to stomp on, break, and ruin everything in his way, bound to kill if he could muster up the courage to do so.
Aspirin wanted to hit him again. He wanted to throw the boy on the ground and kick him with his boots. He wanted to teach this vermin a lesson once and for all. He wanted to destroy the boy, to tar and feather him, to drag him through the mud.
But as the boy wept, sticky with snot, Aspirin saw himself from a distance: a grown man twisting a teenager’s arms.
He shuddered, pushed the boy toward the garage wall, and walked away toward his building, wiping his palms on his pants in disgust. “You’re a nasty piece of shit. If you ever come near her again—or if I hear about you coming near any little girl, I will kill you.” Even as he said it the taste of iron slowly dissipated from his lips. His five minutes of courage were used up.
He found Alyona in the same spot where he’d left her. She was still clutching Mishutka to her chest. Aspirin wanted to take his anger out on her, and he came closer and stood by her side.
She stood there in silence, shoulders pulled down in her usual manner. She was so small. Thin to the point of transparency. She looked pale and miserable.
He swallowed. “Let’s go.”
She followed him into the elevator, then into the apartment. Aspirin rushed to the bathroom; he recalled that night when he hit her, and how long it took for him to feel clean again.
“It’s not like I could kill him,” he mumbled, desperate to justify his own actions. “And dragging him to the police station would be perfectly useless. No one would deal with him until he grows up and gets caught in a real crime.”
Alyona was in the living room, and he could hear her uncovering the piano’s keyboard. At the first notes, Aspirin perked up, and for good reason: A new musical phrase hung in the air. It contained a hidden meaning. Aspirin sensed it, but could not understand.
He went to the living room. “Are you . . . speaking?” he asked.
She looked up from the keys. “Do you understand me?”
“No,” Aspirin admitted after a long pause.
Alyona closed the lid. “And you cannot.”
“Clearly, I am not worthy,” Aspirin agreed. “Listen . . .”
They hadn’t spoken for several weeks, unless one counted a few functional words such as “Come over,” “Go get it,” or “Good morning.”
Aspirin hesitated. Alyona stared at the floor, and it was a good thing: had she bestowed her usual look full of disdain upon him, he would have left