Spencerville

A

The loud metallic clicks caused Cliff to back up into the door. "Hey! Hey!" He put his hands to his front in a protective gesture. "Now sweetheart... that's... that's dangerous. That's a hair trigger... you breathe and that's go

"Shut up. Where were you tonight?"

He took a deep breath and controlled his voice. "I told you. Cars stuck and stalled, bridge over Hoop's Creek is out, panicky old widows callin' all night..."

"Liar."

"Look... look at these wet clothes... see the mud on my shoes?.. I was helpin' people all night. Now, come on, honey, you just got yourself all worked up."

A

Cliff went on in a soothing tone, using every term of endearment he could think of. "Now, sweetheart, darlin', that thing's go

A

He stopped speaking and stared at her.

"Go on. Do you want people to know you died with your gun in your holster?"

Cliff took a shallow breath, and his tongue flicked across his dry lips. "A

"Coward! Coward! Coward!"

A clap of thunder exploded close by, startling Cliff Baxter, who jumped, then went for his gun.

A

The deafening blasts died away but still echoed in her ears. A

Cliff Baxter got up slowly, on one knee, knocking chunks of plaster and wood lathing off his head and shoulders. A

He checked to see that his pistol was in his holster, then glanced up at the ceiling. Still brushing himself off, he stood and walked toward her. She noticed he was trembling, and she wondered what was going to happen next, but she didn't much care.

He walked right past her, picked up the wall phone, and dialed. "Yeah, Blake, it's me." He cleared his throat and tried to steady his voice. "Yeah, had a little accident cleaning a gun. If you get any calls from the neighbors, you explain... Yeah, everything's fine. See ya." He hung up and turned to A

She had no trouble looking him right in the eye, but she noticed he had trouble maintaining eye contact. Also, she thought his order of priorities was interesting: control and contain the situation so as to protect himself, his image, his job. She had no delusions that he was protecting her from the wrath of the law. But that's what he'd say.

As if on cue, he said, "You tried to kill me. I could arrest you."

"Actually, I fired over your head and you know it. But go ahead and take me to jail."

"You bitch. You..." He made a threatening move toward her, and his face reddened, but A

He backed her into a corner, pulled open her robe, then put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed the spot where the shotgun had recoiled.

A blinding pain shot through her body, and her knees buckled, found herself kneeling on the floor, and she could smell the urine on him. She closed her eyes and turned away, but he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her face toward him. "See what you done? You proud of yourself, bitch? I'll bet you are. Now, we're go

A

"I'm waitin'."

There was a sharp rap on the back door, and Cliff spun around. Officer Kevin Ward's face peered through the glass. Cliff bellowed, "Get the hell out of here!"

Ward turned quickly and left, but A

Cliff turned his attention back to his wife. "You satisfied now, bitch? You satisfied!"

She stood quickly. "Get away from me, or so help me God, I'll call the state police."

"You do, I'll kill you."

"I don't care." She fastened her robe around her. Cliff Baxter stared at her, his thumbs hooked in his gun belt. From long experience, she knew it was time to end this confrontation, and she knew how to end it. She said nothing, just stood still, tears ru

Cliff let a minute go by, then, satisfied that the pecking order was reestablished to his liking, that all was right with the world again, he put his finger under her chin and raised her head. "Okay, I'm go

He turned to leave, then came back, took the shotgun, and left. She heard his footsteps going up the stairs, then a few minutes later, heard the shower ru

She found some aspirin in the cupboard and took two with a full glass of water, then washed her face and hands in the kitchen sink, then went down into the basement.

In his den, she stared at the rifles and shotguns, all unlocked now.

She stood there a full minute, then turned away and went into the workshop. She found a push broom and shovel and went back up to the kitchen.

A

Cliff came down, dressed in a clean uniform, and she noticed that he entered the kitchen carefully, his gun belt and holster slung over his shoulder and his hand casually on the pistol grip. He sat at the table, his gun belt looped over the chair instead of on the wall peg. Before he could react, she grabbed the gun belt and put it on the peg. She said, "No guns at my table."

The moment was not lost on Cliff Baxter, and, after an initial look of panic, he forced a stupid grin.

A

She sat across from him.

He smiled as he ate and said, "Lose your appetite?"

"I ate."

He spoke as he chewed. "I'm go

She stood and poured him more coffee.

He continued, "Because I don't think you got it in you to kill me."

"If I did, I could buy a gun anywhere."

"Yeah, true. But you can keep buyin' guns and stealin' guns and borrowin' guns, and it don't matter. I'm not afraid of you, darlin'."

She knew he was trying to reclaim his manhood after the pants wetting. She let him do what he had to do so he'd just get out of the house.

He continued, "I went for my gun, didn't I? I didn't have a chance in hell, but I went for it."

"Yes." True, she thought, he was more stupid than she'd imagined. An intelligent man knew he had at least a fifty-fifty chance of talking his wife out of shooting him, and less than a million-to-one chance of drawing against a pointed and cocked shotgun. But Cliff Baxter was short on brains and long on ego. One day, she hoped, that would get him killed.