longer felt that way. He didn’t know why this was the case. He wasn’t going to philosophize over it either. Because perhaps this feeling was only a temporary reprieve, perhaps the darkness and despair would return in a week, or a month…perhaps…but he didn’t think so. A switch had been flicked inside him. He felt different, not ebullient—not like he had as a kid on his birthdays, or on the day he wed Sarah—but different. Alive. He had almost forgotten how pleasing, how natural, a feeling that was.
The door to the room opened. A portly man with salt-and-pepper hair and a too-tight tweed jacket appeared. His eyes fell on the redhead, and his face lit up with joy.
“Mandy!” he said.
“Daddy!” she blurted.
The man rushed to her bedside and wrapped her in an embrace.
“They told me they called you…” she mumbled into his shoulder.
“I came as fast as I could.”
The redhead said something more, though Beetle couldn’t hear what, not that he was listening anyway, for he was suddenly thinking of his own parents, how nice it would be to see them again, and he knew he had a place to go to after all.
EPILOGUE
“Boy, the next word that comes out of your mouth better be some brilliant fuckin’ Mark Twain shit. ’Cause it’s definitely getting chiseled on your tombstone.”
The Devil’s Rejects (2005)
School had only finished one week before, but eight-year-old Danny Kalantzis was already anticipating the best summer of his life. Most past summers he stayed in Cincinnati and didn’t do much of anything and then September came around and it was time to start school all over again. This year, however, his best friend Roy Egan had invited him to his family’s cottage for a full week. Danny’s family didn’t have a cottage, and he had never been to one before, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. But apparently it was on a small lake in northeastern Ohio, and they could go swimming every day and take rides in the motor boat. He could even try water skiing if he wanted to. He wasn’t sure he did. It sounded difficult. Roy told him there was also a rope hanging from one of the trees along the shore, and they could swing from it into the water. That was probably good enough for Danny.
Nevertheless, what made this week really great was the fact Roy’s sister, Peggy, had come along as well. She was a year older than Danny and Roy, and Danny thought she was the prettiest girl in school. Originally she was supposed to attend summer camp for ballerinas, but then her friend backed out, so she did too.
Because Roy didn’t want to sit beside her during the car trip, Danny got to, and he was fine with that arrangement. In fact, he had been thrilled every time his knee touched Peggy’s, or his shoulder brushed hers.
Ten minutes ago they had pulled into a picnic spot in Cuyahoga Valley National Park. Roy’s mother had packed a cooler full of egg-salad sandwiches. Roy had wolfed his down, along with a cold can of Pepsi, then told his parents he and Danny were going to go ahead to check out Brandywine Falls. Danny had wanted to stay behind, so he would be close to Peggy, but he couldn’t say this, of course, and he obediently jogged after Roy, still finishing off his sandwich as he went.
Halfway to the falls, however, Roy left the trail and began making his way through the forest.
Danny hesitated. “Where are you going?”
“Come on!”
Danny followed.
When Roy found a glade suitable to his liking, he plopped down on his butt and took a sad, bent cigarette from the pocket of his shorts, along with a book of matches.
Danny’s eyes widened. “Where’d you get that?”
“My dad. Don’t worry. He doesn’t know.”
Roy stuck the cigarette expertly between his lips.
“You smoked before?” Danny said, impressed.
“A few times,” Roy said proudly.
He lit the cigarette with a matchstick and sucked hard. His face turned gray, then he bent forward and began coughing up a lung.
Danny bust a gut laughing. Roy must have kept coughing for a full thirty seconds. He was holding the cigarette toward Danny, telling him to try it.
“No way,” Danny said.
“Don’t be a chicken!”
“Look what happened to you.”
“Chicken!”
“I don’t want it.”
“You’re such a wimp.”
“You’re a wimp.”
“At least I tried it.”
“Try it again.”
Roy contemplated the cigarette, then tossed it away.
“Seriously, Danny,” he said, “you’re such a wimp.”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“Oh jeez.” Roy rolled his eyes, then