Box

14

After sedating Darrell, I say, “That was weird, how he called you his woman.”

“He’s always been protective,” she says. “Of course, he’s a meth head, so that carries some blame for his disposition.”

“It also helps explain his delayed reaction to the pain.”

“He earned it,” she says. “He’s a first-class jerk.”

I look at her. “What now?” I say.

“Walk with me.”

She leads me fifty feet away from her noisy brother, and uses his truck to block any possible view he might have of us. The monster truck’s tail lights are casting a red glow on our faces and bodies.

“How bad is he, really?” she says. “Be honest.”

“It was pretty dark, he’s clothed, no way to make an accurate diagnosis.”

“Best guess.”

“Broken ribs, ruptured spleen, internal bleeding, probable multiple fractures in both femurs, assorted bruises, cuts, possible concussion. We should call for an ambulance now.”

“No way. Not yet.”

“Why?”

“There’s a lot to be done.”

“Like what?”

“First, zip up your pants.”

“Okay.”

I zip them and say, “Check. Now what?”

“Now we’re gonna get Darrell’s work gloves out of his truck.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re gonna put them on after you do the next thing.”

“Which is what?”

“You’re gonna give me a shot of morphine.”

“Why?”

“So it won’t hurt so much when you do the next thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Beat me up.”

“What?”

“You need to beat the shit out of me.”

“What?”

“It’s the only way.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You saw him hit me, pull my hair.”

“So?”

“You’ve hurt him really bad. He’ll probably have permanent injuries.”

“I think he had it coming.”

“Me too, but he’s still gonna have you arrested.”

“What?”

“We’re rednecks, Gideon. He’ll press charges, hire an attorney, and sue you.”

“On what grounds?”

“He’ll say you ran him over for no reason. And Daddy’ll say you tried to molest me.”

“Daddy’s not going to say shit, because Daddy tried to hang me.”

“It’s your word against his.”

“And yours.”

“Yes, of course. But he’s the deputy sheriff.”

“I like our chances,” I say. “We can prove the rope brought the roof down. And I can feel the rope burns on my neck.”

“And I can see them, even in this light,” she says. “So you’re right, we’re probably okay with Daddy. But that won’t stop Darrell from pressing charges and suing you.”

“I get that. What I don’t understand is why you want me to beat you up.”

“We’ll have to say you ran over Darrell to save my life.”

“That’s the truth.”

“You know it and I know it. But sometimes the truth needs to be helped along.”

“What do you mean?”

“When the sheriff looks at Darrell, and then looks at this little swollen place on my cheek, he’s not gonna be convinced you had to run him over.”

“What you’re saying-”

“You’ve got two choices. Either beat the shit out of me and I’ll tell the sheriff Darrell did it, or we kill Darrell and haul ass out of town.”

I sigh. Then, for the third time in a half hour, trudge back to the car to fetch the morphine.