The Talisman

agreed, delighted. He laughed his cynical, hurt laugh again – that laugh said, Guess what I found out when I turned eight or so? I found out that I was getting a royal fucking from life, and that things weren’t going to change in a hurry. Or maybe they were never going to change. And although it bums me out, it also has its funny side. You know what I mean, jellybean?
    4
    Such was the run of Jack’s thoughts when hard fingers suddenly grasped the back of his neck at the pressure-points below the ears and lifted him out of his chair. He was turned around into a cloud of foul breath and treated – if that was the word – to the sterile moonscape of Heck Bast’s face.
    ‘Me and the Reverend was still in Muncie when they brought your queer troublemaker friend into the hospital,’ he said. His fingers pulsed and squeezed, pulsed and squeezed. The pain was excruciating. Jack moaned and Heck grinned. The grin allowed bad breath to escape his mouth in even greater quantities. ‘Reverend got the news on his beeper. Janklow looked like a taco that spent about forty-five minutes in a microwave oven. It’s gonna be a while before they put that boy back together again.’
    He’s not talking to me , Jack thought. He’s talking to the whole room. We’re supposed to get the message that Ferd’s still alive .
    ‘You’re a stinking liar,’ he said. ‘Ferd’s—’
    Heck Bast hit him. Jack went sprawling on the floor. Boys scattered away from him. From somewhere, Donny Keegan heehawed.
    There was a roar of rage. Jack looked up, dazed, and shook his head in an effort to clear it. Heck turned and saw Wolf standing protectively over Jack, his upper lip pulled back, the overhead lights sending weird orange glints off his round glasses.
    ‘So the dumbhead finally wants to dance,’ Heck said, beginning to grin. ‘Hey, all right! I love to dance. Come on, snotface. Come on over here and let’s dance.’
    Still growling, saliva now coating his lower lip, Wolf began to move forward. Heck moved to meet him. Chairs scraped across linoleum as people moved back hurriedly to give them room.
    ‘What’s going on h—’
    From the door. Sonny Singer. No need to finish his question; he saw what was going on here. Smiling, he pulled the door shut and leaned against it, watching, arms crossed over his narrow chest, his dark narrow face now alight.
    Jack switched his gaze back to Wolf and Heck.
    ‘Wolf, be careful!’ he shouted.
    ‘I’ll be careful, Jack,’ Wolf said, his voice little more than a growl. ‘I’ll—’
    ‘Let’s dance , asshole,’ Heck Bast grunted, and threw a whistling, country-boy roundhouse. It hit Wolf high on the right cheekbone, driving him backward three or four steps. Donny Keegan laughed his high, whinnying laugh, which Jack now knew was as often a signal of dismay as of glee.
    The roundhouse was a good, heavy blow. Under other circumstances, the fight would probably have ended right there. Unfortunately for Hector Bast, it was also the only blow he landed.
    He advanced confidently, big fists up at chest height, and drove the roundhouse again. This time Wolf’s arm moved upward and outward to meet it. Wolf caught Heck’s fist.
    Heck’s hand was big. Wolf’s hand was bigger.
    Wolf’s fist swallowed Heck’s.
    Wolf’s fist clenched.
    From within it came a sound like small dry sticks first cracking, then breaking.
    Heck’s confident smile first curdled, then froze solid. A moment later he began to shriek.
    ‘Shouldn’t have hurt the herd, you bastard,’ Wolf whispered. ‘Oh your Bible this and oh your Bible that – Wolf! – and all you have to do is hear six verses of The Book of Good Farming to know you never . . .’
    Crackle!
    ‘ . . . never . . .’
    Crunch!
    ‘NEVER hurt the herd.’
    Heck Bast fell to his knees, howling and weeping. Wolf still held Heck’s fist in his own, and Heck’s arm angled up. Heck looked like a Fascist giving a Heil Hitler salute on his knees. Wolf’s arm was as rigid as stone, but his face showed no real effort; it was, except for the blazing eyes, almost serene.
    Blood began to drip out of Wolf’s fist.
    ‘Wolf, stop! That’s enough!’
    Jack looked around swiftly and saw that Sonny was gone, the door standing open. Almost all of the boys were on their feet now. They had drawn away from Wolf as far as the room’s walls would allow, their faces awed and fearful. And still the tableau held in the center of the room: Heck Bast on his knees, arm up