“I’m leaving town,” he said, and raised the gun an inch and took another step forward.
“I will destroy your entire family,” declared Laverna, which he apparently did not appreciate, because she heard the catch of the safety. His teenaged face closed up like a fist: his features turned into one eye and a snarl as he looked down the barrel.
Laverna glanced out the window as Black Mabel’s ghostly white face looked in. Laverna sighed and began to gather the rolls of quarters. One slid from her grasp, and she could hear a whimper as it rolled off the edge of the bar and landed on an Applehaus.
“Jesus Christ,” Laverna said, and reached over for a dishrag. She had planned on waving it like a white flag, but this little motherfucker had apparently never heard of the protocols of surrender.
There was a blast. She ducked in time, but her arms and the white rag were still raised. The explosion deafened her, and she felt pain like wasp stings. The glass from the mirror behind the bar rained all around her. After the gunfire, it kept falling in giant, jagged pieces, freed from the glue that had held it behind the bar for so long. She curled up on the plastic bar mat. She saw the Clinkenbeard boy’s class ring, his hands, as they grabbed for the dollars. She cradled her arms, slick with blood. Laverna couldn’t believe how her mind worked sometimes, but she found herself calculating how much he was taking. It had been a slow night, except for the gunfire.
From her vantage point, she could see Bert holding a shard of glass, what remained of his pint. He seemed unconcerned.
The ones and the fives were disappearing, those stubby hands stuffing them somewhere.
Suddenly there was a grunt, and a single dollar bill flew up into the air. She heard bodies hit the floor, and then the familiar cursing of Red Mabel, Thieving piece of shit, Shit for brains, and plain old Dipshit. Laverna was not sure where Red Mabel had come from, but that was how it usually went. Laverna used her knees and her one good elbow to ease herself up.
She surveyed the wreckage.
Red Mabel had the kid in a headlock, and they tangled on the floor like lovers, his face surrounded by her massive breasts. Rocky now held the gun, Juice Newton still sang, and Red Mabel squeezed the Clinkenbeard boy’s head even tighter, his face turning the color of plums. The Applehaus brothers remained on the floor.
Red Mabel finally noticed Laverna and the blood. “Look what you did to her!” she screamed, and adjusted her forearm until Laverna heard the snap of a jawbone. “Look what you did to her!”
Dollar bills and broken glass had been scattered everywhere. Rocky bled from his kneecap, his khakis soaking red as he clutched at the shotgun.
“And god damn you Applehaus boys! Get up!”
They popped up from the floor. Red Mabel kept yelling as they silently accepted her admonishments.
“You’re both fucking firemen! You’re in emergency services!”
At that, they stepped forward to help, properly chastened.
“Take this motherfucker!” Red Mabel released the boy, and the older brother began to kick him in the stomach, while the younger pinned his arms to the floor.
Red Mabel dashed behind the bar and pulled Laverna close, despite the blood. It was unclear to Laverna if Red Mabel was crying or sweating heavily as she picked up the rotary phone with one hand and called the police.
When the ambulance finally came, the Clinkenbeard boy was unconscious, Rocky tended to the wound on his leg with paper napkins, Bert continued to sit there, and Black Mabel could still be heard shrieking outside.
Rocky attempted to sweep up the broken glass behind the bar with one hand on the broom, and the other holding napkins to his knee.
“How in the hell are you going to use a dustpan with one hand?” Laverna screamed at Rocky, half determined to get up and clean the mess herself. The Applehaus boys talked to the policeman, also an Applehaus, and Bert threw down a twenty and walked past all of the commotion and out the door.
The first and last twenty of the night.
Until She Tells You to Stop
Rachel was awakened by a frenzied pounding on her door. It was still dark outside, but she had no idea what time it was—the alarm clock was plugged in in the cavern of her bathroom. She pushed back the duvet cover, and she was frightened.