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I'll always remember the color of it on her lips.
Now I have to deal with the Roses, and like I've said, I don't think they've been tested in the world. It seems they've never been asked how they would react if someone from outside came in and interrupted their fighting with foreign fists.
I have their address.
I have their phone number, and I'm ready.
Early next week I get a lot of day shifts, and I go over there every night I have free. Each time, they only argue. There's no actual fight, so I go home, disappointed. On the way back, I look for the closest phone booth to their house and find one a few streets away.
The next two nights I have to work, which I decide is a good thing. They had a big fight only recently, and they might need a few more days to build up properly to another one. All I need is Gavin to leave the house again. My job isn't a pleasant one.
On Sunday night, it happens.
I'm there for nearly two hours when the house shakes and Gavin storms out again.
He goes back to the same place and sits again in the gutter.
And again, I go down there.
My shadow only edges onto him when he says, "You again," but he doesn't even get a glimpse of me.
My hands reach down and grab him by the collar.
I feel like I'm outside myself.
I watch myself drag Gavin Rose into the bush and beat him down to the grass, the dirt, and the fallen tree branches.
My fists clutter on his face and I put a hole in his stomach.
The boy cries and begs. His voice twitches.
"Don't kill me, don't kill me...."
I see his eyes and make sure not to meet them, and I put my fist onto his nose to eliminate any vision he might have had. He's hurt, but I keep going. I need to make sure he can't move by the time I'm done with him.
I can smell how scared he is.
It pours out of him.
It reaches up and stuffs itself into my nose.
I realize this could all backfire terribly, but it feels like my only option.
It's time to explain that before I had to sort out Edgar Street, I'd never even laid a finger on a person in this way. It doesn't feel good, especially when it's a young kid who doesn't have a chance. However, I can't let that stop me. I'm possessed as I continue beating Gavin Rose on his body and face. It's dark, and a gathering wind stalks through the bush.
No one can help him.
Except me.
And how do I do it?
I give him one last kick and make sure he won't be able to move for at least another five or ten minutes.
I get off him, breathing heavily.
Gavin Rose isn't going anywhere.
There's blood on my hands as I walk quickly from the bush and up the street. I can hear the television in the Rose house as I hurry past.
