He ploughs me in the chest. I jacknife. He hauls me up by the hair, hits me in the belly, and lands a vicious kick on my shin. I don’t even know if I’m crying because inside I’m howling, begging him to stop—but I can’t get a word out, he’s going to kill me and there’s nothing I can do to stop him.

“Floyd!”

The fists stop. I drop to my knees, huddled over, chin to my chest. Then I tumble sideways, curled like a fetus on the floor. Clawing, brutal pain ... no room left for me.

He’s finally gotten rid of me.

Words float overhead. “He attacked me. Attacked me.”

A rustle of fabric and two small thumps, like knees against the floor. Perfume drifts to my nose. Then a hand rests briefly on my shoulder. “Brick,” Opal says, “are you all right? Can you hear me?”

She touched me. Opal touched me.

A strangled sound comes out of my throat.

The floorboards creak as she stands up. “Floyd, I don’t care what Brick did. You’ve gone too far.”

“If I choose to discipline my son, that’s my business.”

“If you kill your son, that’s everyone’s business!”

“Lay off, Opal!”

“What if you’ve broken his ribs? How are you planning to explain that?”

Sullen. “I’m no fool—I didn’t hit hard enough to break anything.”

“I hope you’re right—for your sake and his.” Steel in her voice. “You’re not Thaddeus. You should quit behaving like him.”

“Keep your cheap psychology. It’s fake. Your whole gig’s fake.”

“And yours isn’t? Let me sell you this brand-new four-byfour—you’ll be a big success, you’ll be happy, the women will think you’re a stud.”

“If I didn’t sell cars, you couldn’t drive the roads day and night.”

“If we lived in town, I wouldn’t need a car.”

I try to move. Too much trouble.

Try to open my eyes. Right eye stays shut. Left eye, floor level, gives me a close-up of pink popcorn, crusted with sugar. My stomach heaves. A drill’s gnawing its way through my jaw.

Opal sighs. “Why did Brick attack you?”

“Ask him.”

“Whose popcorn is that on the floor?”

“Can’t a man get any peace inside his own house?”

She says, voice back to steel, “We’re going to help him up to bed. You’d better pray he doesn’t need a doctor.”

My left eye is suddenly filled with the flowers on her skirt. She says, “Brick, you have to stand up. We’ll both help as much as we can. Floyd, take his other arm ... gently!”