” He shook the pistol at me, and I was sure it was the last thing I’d see. I put my hands down, backing away, watching the gun, and Hill hit me with a left hook and then a right cross, hit me first in the eye and then in the nose. My nose broke with a crunch, and I went down, banging backward into the side of the shed, then dropping forward on my hands and knees.

“Busted my fuckin’ ribs,” Hill shouted. He grabbed the hair at the sides of my head, jerked me upright, and threw me back against the building. “You was the nigger in the woodpile, wasn’t you? You was the one what set this all up, this whole thing, nobody’d believe me, nobody’d listen

“

He punched me in the forehead. My head banged back against the building, and I went straight down, to a sitting position, and he kicked me below the armpit. I rolled with the kick and crouched, ready to roll again, and Hill started screaming, “On your feet, motherfucker, on your feet.”

St. Thomas danced around beside me, giggling, waving the gun. “On your feet, on your feet

“

“What’re you looking for out here? What’re you looking for? Were you in that car? What were you doing, cocksucking faggot?”

I got up again, sputtering, blood running out of my broken nose into my mouth. I had my hands half up again, and said, “Listen, goddamn it, I talked to the mayor-“

“Fuck Bell. You hear me, cunt? Fuck him-“

Hill screamed. He screamed all the time, never dropped his voice, never laughed, always screamed. “Hands down, cocksucker. Arnie, you shoot the motherfucker in the nuts if he puts his hands up

“

“I will,” St. Thomas squealed. “I’ll shoot you in the nuts, faggot motherfucker

” He pointed the pistol at my crotch. Hill squared up again, and St. Thomas was squealing, and I dropped my hands, trying to edge away, but St. Thomas danced around in front again, blocking me, and Hill hit me in the nose again, and I went halfway down, trying to fall, and he hit me twice more, hard, in the right eye again and on the nose. The world went black and red, and I was down, nearly blind, feeling the grass under my hands, the blood running down my throat

“Get up, motherfucker,” Hill screamed, his face two feet from mine. “Get him around inside, Arnie, let’s get him around inside.”

I couldn’t get up. I tried but couldn’t. “Get up, motherfucker,” Hill screamed, and kicked me in the thigh. I tried and stumbled. He kicked me again.

“Kick him in the ass,” St. Thomas yelled. “Kick him in the ass, Duane. Kick him in the balls.”