I was starting down the stairs, when the kid appeared in the hallway. He let out a “Hey!” or just a yelp of surprise that almost made me drop my bag. He charged up the stairs toward me and I backed up to the landing. He came up fast, not thinking, probably had no idea what he was going to do when he got to me. But I knew. When he got close enough, I kicked him right in the crotch. He bent forward and fell backwards in an awkward way that would have seemed funny on its own, the kind of shit people laugh at on TV or online. But he was at the bottom of the stairs and not moving. He’d hit his head a couple of times on the way down, and I was afraid he’d broken his neck or something. I watched him and waited for him to get up, or even move, but he didn’t. I hurried down the stairs and put my hands close to his nose and mouth. He was still breathing. I could see his eyelids starting to flutter. He was going to come to and I rushed out of the house and got in the car and drove home. Somewhere along the way, I decided that I would not give the trophy to Froehmer, not right away, anyway. It had all gotten fucked up and I thought I might need it. I needed something. And then things got a lot worse than just fucked up.

24

THE MACHINE