“Retarded,” he said, as if enjoying the word. “Fourteen, but he was more like a seven-year-old. I was twelve, but I ended up being his big brother. He was the only one in the place who'd talk to me—beware the dangerous pyromaniac—Hitler warned them all against having anything to do with me. I was completely shunned except by Delmar. He couldn't think clearly, but he had a heart of gold. Hitler took him in for the publicity—poor little Negro retardo helped by the great white doctor. When visitors came, he always had his hand on Delmar's woolly little head. But Delmar was no great success. Delmar couldn't remember rules or learn how to read and write. So when there were no visitors around, he kept bad-loving him, over and over. And when that didn't work, they sent in the she-beast.”

“Myra Evans?”

“No, not her, you idiot. She was the bitch, I'm talking about the beast—Dr. Daughter. Kill-Me Kate—thank you, I already have.”

High-pitched laughter. The gun moved back some more and I stared into its single, black eye.

The dog began scratching again, but Coburg didn't notice.

“When the beast finished with Delmar, he was drooling and crapping his pants and banging his head against the wall.”

“What did she do to him?”

“What did she do? She did a number on his head. And other parts of his body.”

“She molested him?”

His free hand touched his cheek and he arched his eyebrows.

“Such shock, the poor man is shocked! Yeah, she molested him, you idiot. In ways that hurt. He'd come back from sessions with her crying and holding himself. Crawl into bed, weeping. I had the room next door. I'd pick the lock and sneak him something to drink. When I asked him what the matter was, he wouldn't tell me. Not for weeks. Then he finally did. I didn't know much about sex, period, let alone ugly things. He pulled down his pants and showed me the marks. Dried blood all over his shorts. That was my introduction to the birds and the bees. It altered me, it altered me.”

His lips vibrated and he swallowed hard a couple of times. The gun arm like steel.

The glass door vibrated.

“So he took the truck,” I said. “To escape what she was doing to him.”

“We took it. I knew how to drive because Evil had a farm in Connecti—a summer place, lots of trucks and tractors. One of the farmhands taught me. Planning the break was hard because Delmar had trouble remembering details. We had a bunch of false starts. Finally we made it out, late at night, everyone asleep. Delmar was scared. I had to drag him.”

The gun barrel made tiny arcs.