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Sue sprinted for the fence, vaulting the rough stack of
broken bricks and planks.
She straightened and stared. She screamed, throwing herself
back at the fence. “Benny? Why are you just standing their, you idiot?”
Benny held out a hand, the fingers loose, pointing down. Hogs
were funny. Even one that was a pet could go nuts, and their bite was poisonous,
but a dirty, infection-causing poison.
Seeing no movement, the boar slowed. He sniffed the air for
the smell of strangers, a wet, snuffling noise. He peered through the clearing,
the heavy ears flopping over smallish, nearsighted eyes. The muzzle went down
and with a casual toss, flipped aside a chunk of cement that had to weigh almost
as much as the boar.
Benny stayed still. The boar gouged his tusks through the
dirt. With each toss of the broad head, he peered around the clearing for
movement or some minor change in the gray-scale world he lived in.
Benny let out a slow, quiet breath and the boar’s head shot
up, the ears standing out and moving slowly to catch the sound.
Minutes past before the boar snorted, turning away to nose
among the brush, then shove through.
“Now," Sue hissed. “Come on.”
Benny remained still. Sue picked up a stick and threw it at
Benny. It sailed by, into the weeds ten yards behind him.
With a scream, the boar darted nimbly at the stick and ripped
the tusks at it before realizing it wasn’t his prey.
He began to quarter the clearing, sniffing and grunting,
half-invisible in a gray dawn light. A shadow in the shadows cast by a
thickening cloud cover. Benny followed his movements more by sound than sight.
A bucket clanged and a man called, his voice low, inviting.
The boar ignored it.
As he trotted back into the brush, he ripped at some wild
carrots, the tops still showing green at the base, then plowed into the earth
for the bitter roots.
Benny sprinted for the wall. The boar spun, squealing and
screaming in rage. Only yards from the wall, Benny stumbled, grabbing the bum
leg, and the boar was on him. Benny threw himself up, over the animal. The boar
struck but the razor tusks slashed only air, not flesh, and then he rammed into
the wall. Sue screamed as the wall shuddered. She fell back and away but was up
in a flash.
The boar staggered back. Benny was up, jumping on the broad
shoulders and as the boar struck again, used the force to clear the wall and
fall at Sue’s dirty sneakers.
He rolled over, grinned, and said, “I know you’re
beautiful, but do you have this effect on all men?”
A smile started. The girl killed it with a snarl. “Only on
total mo-ronic nitwits.”
Dragging himself up, Benny said, “Oh. Guess that explains
it, then, hain’a?”
She was quiet for a full minute before she scowled at the
ground and said, “Resist what?”
“Why all men are dopes.” He gave her a warm and gentle
smile that was filled with the shadows of a wicked leer. “When we see you, we
lose it.”
The bucket clanged again. Muttering to himself, the boar
staggered away from the wall for a less exciting meal.
Sue grabbed Benny’s arm. She hissed. “Best we make like
trees and leave, quiet-like. Folks down here will shoot you for hurting a
man’s hog. You wouldn’t be the first that hog was fed, either. You don’t
want a body found, find a hog yard. That one,” she said, glancing at the boar.
“He’s a breeder, so nobody is gonna gripe.”
“But he was going to kill me,” Benny said. “That
doesn’t count?”
“Not if you got hungry kids to feed.”
Well, that made sense. Benny let her pull him through the
next street into a sort of village of row homes and a few freestanding
buildings. One smelled like a bar, and his mouth watered. No beer for God alone
knew how long, and that was almost a sin. Stickler and narrow-way sort though he
was, even Wolf-Jesus liked his brews, hallelujah!
He stumbled and looked down. The road was more or less
smooth, brick cobbles of another era. There was trash, but not a lot. No
burning-manure smell of Mary Jane in the air, nor the scorching whisper of
roasting crack or the smoking flames that made Delight.
“This is a quiet ‘hood,” Sue was telling him. “Folks
mind their own business and not the neighbors’, ‘less there’s trouble.”
On reaching a narrow door, Sue hesitated before touching the
rusting knob.
The door was ripped open and a hulking, powerfully built man
filled the hole. In one hand was a gun. He looked at Benny, then Sue.
“You friggin slut,”
he shouted, grabbing Sue by the hair. “You know the trouble you done
caused?” His hand descended over her face in a sharp crack, and that’s when
Benny roared, popping the man in the groin.
Sue was thrown aside, and the man choked. Benny grabbed the
sagging jaw and jerked the man out onto the narrow street. His knee rammed the
paunch. Sue’s attacker staggered, doubling over, and the gun fell from his
hand. The back of Benny’s elbow rammed hard on the base of the man’s skull,
and the man dropped to his knees, then flopped into the gutter.
Benny aimed a kick that would drive broken ribs into the
man’s heart and lungs, but a shout from Sue stopped him. Propped up on her
knees and one hand, she stared at the attacker.
“Benny . . .”
Not taking his eyes off the quivering back of the man, Benny
muttered, “Yeah?”
“I don’t want his death on my conscious.”
With a shrug, Benny stepped on the man and then to Sue. He
held the door for her and even smiled, but it was for the man, not her. Women,
always taking the fun out of life, yeah.
“Another day, another way. Yo.”
In the kitchen, Sue gave him a sharp glance.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You said something. I heard you.”
With a warm smile, Benny winked.
“Was thinking about earning a dollar. That’s all.”
Full breasts, sweet, rounded butt, soft arms, and
suspicious as a wet cat. Sue was all woman.
©2004 StoriesByEmail.com
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