Suddenly she froze, as a vision of her mother, sitting in the next chair, swam up before her. Her dark eyes were piercing. She said, “Do not listen to what your father says about you, Martha. You are a very special child, and you must let those nasty things just slide right over you. He doesn’t understand you like I do. You are very special, and some day other people will understand that.” The image began breaking up, and Martha reached for it, calling her mother. Don’t go away, come back, tell me, tell me. Her fingers clutched only dry air, but for a moment she really remembered what her mother looked like.

The vision made her sad. Special. Like Leon. He’s special. Like Priscilla. She’s special. And I’m special too. And she wished again she could understand, and felt it well up deep inside her, like gas, only it didn’t hurt, it felt more like filling up, like something starting to come up from the very depths of her soul. She groped again for the room of understanding, that which would make her normal, could help her keep up with her new friends, and the snarling growl deafened her as yellow eyes and sharp canines lunged and snapped with threatening viciousness. Her mind shut down. She turned on the television.

As soon as Leon and Martha left the bar, the two boys ordered another round of beers and slithered into the corner booth, out of the bartender’s vision.

“Jeez-us! Did you see that wad of cash?” The words kind of whistled through the space where he was missing a front tooth.

The other boy looked at him. “Yeah.”

“Maybe we ought to go pay her a visit tonight.”

“Come on. She’s just an old retarded lady.”

“Do you know where she lives?”

“Sure. Everybody knows where Martha lives.”

“Where?”

“First farm on the right out the north side of town. Hey, Leslie, you can’t be serious.”

“Serious as a heart attack, my friend. It was your idea, remember?”

“Shit, I was just kidding.”

“I ain’t.” His steely eyes glinted in the dim light of the bar as he sipped his beer and stared into his fantasy.

6

CHAPTER 6