Эд Горман - Moonchasers and Other Stories

He asked our names and we told him.

And then for the first time I saw him get all seized up and heard him give out with a hard little grunt, the way you do when somebody hits you in the stomach. Or when you’re in an awful lot of pain.

He tried to sit up and still keep both his gun and his flashlight on us but he wasn’t having an easy time of it. I knew right away it was because of the blood all over the side of his dirty white shirt, and the green pussy stuff that was all mixed up in it.

I’d seen enough gangster movies to know what was going on here, especially when I let my eyes wander over to the big canvas bag sitting maybe half a foot from him, just on the edge of the light.

“You going to kill us?” Barney said.

Which was just like something Barney would say.

The guy just looked at Barney and said, “You got any candy bars or anything like that on you?”

“No, sir.”

“How about you?”

I shook my head.

The guy grimaced again. The pain must have been pretty bad. The smell sure was.

“Sir,” Barney said. “I don’t mean to be nosey or anything, but you look like you should see a doctor.”

For the first time the guy smiled. And when he did, and just in the way he did, I realized who he looked like. “You know any doctors whoy’sd be willing to come out here?”

“No, but we could help you into town to see Doctor Anderson. He’s real nice.”

Barney was just jabbering, terrified.

“You boys know who I am?”

“I don’t think so,” I said.

“Danton’s my name. Roy Danton. Yesterday in Des Moines there was a bank robbery. That was me and my brother. He set the whole thing up. We were careful not to hurt anybody but one of the guards there thought he saw a chance to stop us so he opened fire as we were leaving. He killed my brother and wounded me.” The grimace again. “The whole state’s looking for me by now.” He let his eyes drift over to the money satchel. “Hell, I don’t even know how much we got. And now I don’t even care. With Mike dead, I mean.”

There was this real long dusty silence in the closet with the guy just staring off and all and you could feel how sad he was about his brother.

“I’m sorry,” Barney said. “About Mike, I mean. I’ve got a kid brother named Glenn and I’d sure feel bad if somebody shot him.”

I didn’t think it was the right time to point out that a lot of people in Somerton wanted the pleasure of shooting his obnoxious little brother, Glenn.

Danton looked us over again. You had the sense his mind was always working hard, always trying to figure things out. “You boys have probably never met anybody like me, have you?”

“No, sir,” Barney said.

“Your folks are probably real respectable, aren’t they?”

“Yessir,” Barney said.

“And nobody in the family’s ever been in any serious trouble, have they?”

“Except for my older brother Kenny,” Barney said. “He got arrested for shooting off firecrackers the night before it was legal.”

Danton laughed softly. “They give him the electric chair?”

“No, sir.”

“I envy the hell out of you boys.”

“Us?”

“That’s right, Barney. You. It’s summer and you don’t have anything to think about except how you’re going to spend all these long, lazy days, and what movie you’re going to see downtown, and maybe what girl you hope you run into out at the swimming pool.” His gaze was faraway now, as if what he was describing was more real than him being in this closet with a bullet in his side and a satchel of cash near his hand and two small-town hayseeds standing in front of him.

“I never had that,” he said. “But nobody’s to blame for how I turned out except me. I don’t hold with all the blame people put on each other. When you do something wrong, there’s only one person to blame and that’s yourself.”

“Your folks still alive?” Barney said.

But Danton didn’t say any more. He just grimaced once from the pain and then sat there and took a few deep shuddering breaths.

I could see how weak he was. The flashlight was shaking a little and the gun looked as if it was about to fall from his hand.

“How far from town are we?” Danton said.

“Mile and a half or so,” I said.

“You boys interested in making a few dollars?”

Barney said, “Huh?”

“Getting me some things. A little food and a little medicine.”

Barney looked over at me and I looked over at him right back. Him being my best friend and all it was easy to tell that he was thinking the same thing I was. This guy had to be really crazy, letting us walk right out of here with the understanding that wey’sd get him some stuff and bring it back.

What wey’sd do, of course, was race back to town and run up the four wide steps of the one-story redbrick police station and tell McCorkindale, the night-duty desk cop, just where he could find himself a bank robber.

“Sure, wey’sd be glad to do that,” I said. “And you wouldn’t even have to pay us.”

Danton laughed. “You must really think I’m dumb.”

We didn’t say anything.

“I let you boys walk out of here and you go right to the cops. And then the cops come back here with shotguns and surround this place and then tomorrow morning, I find myself in jail. Where I’ll be for the rest of my life probably.”

Danton raised his eyes. “How old are you boys?”

“Fifteen and a half,” Barney said. “I am, anyway. Tom is fifteen and a quarter.”

“You two ever known anybody who killed himself?”

Barney gulped. “No, sir.”

“How about you, Tom?”

“I guess not.”

Danton stared at me with those sad eyes of his and all I could think of was Uncle Pete and how he came over late one night to tell Dad, who is his brother, about Aunt Clarice, and how he just sat in the recliner in the living room and cried like a baby.

“Well, I’m going to leave it up to you boys. How I’m going to handle things, I mean.” He nodded to the bank satchel. “Barney, you come over here and dig out some money.”

“Yessir.”

Barney went over and knelt down. Being out of flashlight range, he worked mostly in the dark but a minute or so later he shoved his hand into the range of the flashlight. His tight fist was crammed full of green cash, bills sticking out every which way there were so many.

“That should do it,” Danton said.

Barney stood up, real unsteady on his feet, and came back over next to me.

“You have a good memory, Tom?”

“Pretty good.”

“See if you can remember this, then.” And he sailed right into this long list of stuff like gauze and boric acid and bandages, things to take care of his wound, and food, a lot of stuff with sugar in it and then hot dogs because, he said, he could eat them cold. And at the end, he added, “And get me some kind of writing tablets and some envelopes.” Pain tightened his face again. “I want to write my brother’s, wife, Peg, a letter. Theyy’sve got a six-month-old kid and I figure Peg could use some money.” He nodded to the satchel.

“We’ll take this money and get what you want and then come right back.”

And then Danton laughed again and it was spooky, crazy laughter really, like the kind madmen always laugh in science fiction movies after theyy’sve created a monster or something, except in Danton’s case it was real.

“Kid, I wish you could see how obvious you are. You just can’t wait to get your ass out of here and go to the cops, can you?”

Barney gulped but didn’t say anything.

“And you know what? I’d probably do the same thing if I was you. In fact, I’m sure I would.” Then he quit smiling. “But you’re going to have to make a real adult decision, both of you boys. I don’t want to go to prison. I really don’t. I’d never survive in there and I know it. I want to get up to Alaska where I’ve got a cousin and try living the way regular people do, the way I’ve never been able to before. That’s why I need those medical supplies and that food. Ity’sll at least get me going again.”