When visitors came, he always had his hand on Delmar’s woolly little head. But Delmar was no great success. Delmar couldn’t remember rules or learn how to read and write. So when there were no visitors around, he kept bad-loving him, over and over. And when that didn’t work, they sent in the she-beast.”
“Myra Evans?”
“No, not her, you idiot. She was the bitch, I’m talking about the beast–Dr. Daughter. Kill-Me Kate–thank you, I already have.”
High-pitched laughter. The gun moved back some more and I stared into its single, black eye.
The dog began scratching again, but Coburg didn’t notice.
“When the beast finished with Delmar, he was drooling and crapping his pants and banging his head against the wall.”
“What did she do to him?”
“What did she do? She did a number on his head. And other parts of his body.”
“She molested him?”
His free hand touched his cheek and he arched his eyebrows.
“Such shock, the poor man is shocked! Yeah, she molested him, you idiot. In ways that hurt. He’d come back from sessions with her crying and holding himself. Crawl into bed, weeping. I had the room next door. I’d pick the lock and sneak him something to drink. When I asked him what the matter was, he wouldn’t tell me. Not for weeks.
Then he finally did. I didn’t know much about sex, period, let alone ugly things. He pulled down his pants and showed me the marks. Dried blood all over his shorts. That was my introduction to the birds and the bees. It altered me, it altered me.”
His lips vibrated and he swallowed hard a couple of times. The gun arm like steel.
The glass door vibrated.
“So he took the truck,” I said. “To escape what she was doing to him.”
“We took it. I knew how to drive because Evil had a farm in Connecti–a summer place, lots of trucks and tractors. One of the farmhands taught me. Planning the break was hard because Delmar had trouble remembering details. We had a bunch of false starts. Finally we made it out, late at night, everyone asleep.
Delmar was scared. I had to drag him.”
The gun barrel made tiny arcs.
“I had no idea which way to go, so I just drove. The roads kept getting curvier. Delmar was scared out of his mind, crying for his mama. I’m telling him everything’s okay–but some idiot left sawhorses in the middle of the road–a ditch, no warning lights. We skidded.
.
. off the road. .. I yelled for Delmar to jump free, tried to pull him out, but he was too heavy–then my door flipped open and I was thrown out. Delmar. ..”
He licked his lips and breathed with forced deliberation. His finger tapped the trigger.
“Boom. Kaboom,” he said. “Life is so tenuous, isn’t it?”
He looked winded, dripping perspiration. The big smile on his face was forced.
“He. .. it took me two hours to walk back to hell. My clothes were torn and I’d twisted my ankle. It was a miracle–I was alive. Meant for something. I managed to crawl into bed. .. my teeth were chattering so loud I was sure everyone would wake up. It took a while till the commotion began. Talking, footsteps, lights going on. Then Hitler came stomping into my room, tore the covers off me, and stared at me–foaming at the mouth. I looked right back at him. This crazy look came into his eyes and he lifted his hands–like he was ready to claw me. I stared right back at him and pulled my pud. And he just let his arms drop. Walked out. Never spoke to me again. I was locked in my room for three days. On the fourth day, Mummy came and picked me up. Go east, young victor.”
“So you won,” I said.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I was the conquering hero.” Jab. “My victory bought me more dungeons. More sadists, pills, and needles. That’s what your places are about, whether you call them hospitals or jails or schools. Killing the spirit.”
I remembered the flash of anger he’d shown in his office, when we’d talked about Dorsey Hewitt.