“Oh, there’s always going to be hard feelings,” I tell him. “Don’t you doubt that for a moment.”

And just like that, the phony charm switches off and there’s that familiar look in his eyes. Feral. Calculating.

“I’ll see you in hell,” he says, “before I—”

“No,” I break in. “Here’s the new deal.”

Once upon a time, I think, and build a fresh story in my head.

Once upon a time . . .

“Every time you have one of your mean-assed thoughts, you’re going to shrink to half your size. Have too many . . . well, you’re just going to meanass yourself into nothing. Bad news for you, but it’s all good for me.”

He spits at me, but I saw him building up the wad of saliva in his mouth and was expecting it. I move my head so that he misses, though bits of spray still spatter on my cheek. I wipe it away with the back of my hand.

“Because, see,” I tell him, “even though you deserve it, I don’t want anybody’s death on my hands. This way, you’re just going to be small and useless and unable to hurt anything.”

I stand up and step back, finishing the story in my head.

Once upon a time . . .

And just like that, the leather cords are gone.

He lunges to his feet and immediately shrinks to half his size—contracting from that towering six-foot-something to no more than three feet tall. The top of his head only barely reaches my waist.

“Oh, you’re going to pay big time for this,” he says.

But almost before he can get the words out, he’s half his size again—no more than a foot-and-a-half tall now.

“Goddamn you.”

It would almost be funny, if there wasn’t so much hurt wound up in my just having to look at him. Even now, when he’s less than a foot tall and still shrinking because I guess he just can’t stop thinking mean thoughts.

Finally, he’s shrunk down so small I can’t see him at all.

I look down at the floorboards where he was standing, but there’s nothing to see. He’s probably mean-assed his way right down to molecular size.

I don’t feel any satisfaction. Only a sense of relief.

I back carefully out of the room—he’s so small I could accidentally crush him and not even know it. I close the door behind me.

It doesn’t matter if he stops thinking bad thoughts and starts to grow again, because he still won’t be able to hurt anything or anybody without having to go through the whole shrinking process all over.

I turn away from the closed door of the parlour and step out onto the porch.

There’s only one thing left. One loose end.

Mattie.

And I think I know what to do now.