Spencerville

Billy pushed him down. “No! No! You wait.”
    Keith lay on the ground. He thought he could hear the sound of whatever was happening in that house, the steady slap of something against bare flesh and her crying. But, of course, he couldn’t hear it, but he felt it, as if it were happening to him.
     
    *  *  *
     
    Annie yelled out in surprised pain. Usually, she prepared herself for the first blow and hardly made a sound until the pain got to be too much. Yesterday, she’d taken ten strokes without crying, and that had given her some satisfaction.
    He said, “I was gonna give you only five, but now you’re gettin’ a full ten. You count, and if you lose count, I start over again. Ready?”
    She didn’t reply.
    “Ready?”
    “Yes.”
     
    *  *  *
     
    “Come on, Keith. We don’t want to spook him. We got to back off and wait awhile. Right? Hey, man, you okay? Get it together, Keith. This ain’t a trainin’ exercise.”
    Keith didn’t reply.
    “Come on. We can’t stay here.”
    Keith got up on one knee, then stood and raised the binoculars again, but couldn’t see anything through the window.
    Billy reached up and pulled him down again. “Jesus! If he’s lookin’ through that infrared scope, you’re dead. Come on.”
    The dog barked again.
     
    *  *  *
     
    Baxter turned away and walked back to his chair, leaving her bent over the couch. He sat down, watching her. He heard the dog bark again, but he ignored it. After a minute, he said, “Turn around and kneel.”
    She turned toward him on her knees.
    “You fuckin’ whore.” He leaned forward and kept staring at her. “Look at me, bitch. You lied to me about him, didn’t you?”
    “Yes.”
    “You said you didn’t even remember runnin’ into him. And all the time you was fuckin’ him. Right?”
    “Yes.”
    “Maybe lover boy got AIDS, and now you got it, and you gave it to me, bitch.”
    She didn’t reply.
    “He probably fucks everything and everybody. Probably fucks goats and little boys and two-dollar whores. Whatever he got, you got. He use a rubber on you?”
    She didn’t reply.
    “How many times you fuck him?”
    “Do you mean in high school and college, or—?”
    “Shut up! You make me sick. I ought to kill you, but you ain’t gettin’ off that easy. You’re gonna pay for what you did. You know that, don’t you?”
    “Yes.”
    “And you’re gonna keep payin’, ’cause you can’t ever make that right. I’ll bet you’re sorry you did it, ain’t you?”
    She didn’t reply.
    “Answer me.”
    “Yes.”
    “Yes, what?”
    “Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”
    “You bet you are. And you ain’t half as sorry as you’re gonna be. When I get through with you, you’re gonna be like my bitch retriever. You’re gonna do what I say, when I say, eat when I tell you, curl up at my feet, lick my hand, and follow me around with your head down. Right?”
    “Yes.”
    “Yes, what?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Good. And I’ll treat you just fine, though you don’t deserve it after what you done. You’ll get three meals, a warm place to sleep, and a whippin’ only when you deserve it. Right?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Cliff sat back and watched her still kneeling, her head down, and her arms wrapped around her. He smiled. “Cold?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Come on over here by the fire. Don’t walk.”
    Annie hesitated, then walked on her hands and knees over to Baxter and came to a stop at his feet.
    “Straighten up.”
    She rocked back on her haunches and sat up, facing him, her head still down.
    “Look at me.”
    She looked him in the eye and noted with some satisfaction that his right eye still had blood in it.
    “When did you fuck him?
Where
did you fuck him?”
    “In his house.”
    “You fuck him in our house?”
    “Yes.”
    He seemed surprised and asked, “How the fuck did you manage that? You’re lyin’! You never could’ve fucked him in our house.”
    “If you say so.”
    “You’re a fucking slut. You know that? You’re a fucking whore, so I’m gonna treat you like a whore.”
    She noticed the gun belt on the small end table to the right of his chair. She thought she could grab it, roll away, and draw the pistol before he reacted. She could make him chain himself with the leg irons, and she could get away. That’s all she wanted—to be away from him and this house. She’d only shoot if he made her, and then she’d only try to wound him. She waited for her chance.
     
    *  *  *
     
    Reluctantly,