That afternoon, Mom stood... «The Pale-Faced Lie»
cat_on_the_shelf22 января 2022That afternoon, Mom stood at the front door in her nightgown and stared out at four drunks lying face down. Sam and I walked up behind her, eager to go out and use our new ammo. She turned to me, frowning. “David, honey, those poor men haven’t moved for hours. It’s just awful to have them in our yard. Will you see if they’re dead? If they are, I’ll call the police so they can be properly buried.”
“We’ll find out,” I said, as Sam and I went into the yard.
One of the drunks was lying flat on his back on our side of the duplex next to the gully. “Sam, see that guy over there? Let’s see if this wakes him up.”
I held a cherry bomb up in the air. It took Sam three tries to light the match, and he flashed a huge smile when the fuse ignited and hissed. I bounced a perfect shot between the guy’s legs, inches from his crotch. Boom! His body quivered, and he staggered to his feet, getting out of our yard before falling down.
I laughed. “No need to call the morgue yet.”
On to the second drunk. Sam took off the man’s hat and placed it over a cherry bomb on the ground about a foot away from his head. With the blast, his hat blew high into the air, splitting into pieces before falling back to the ground. The man winced and rolled to his feet only to drop a few seconds later.
Sam got creative with our third victim. He poured honey on his head, and soon a mass of stinging red ants appeared. The guy didn’t move for a long time, but when he did, he jumped into the air with a screech that reminded me of Midnight when he came flying out of the dryer. For the last guy, we dropped a Black Cat into his boot, and he got up and danced around, shaking his foot like it was on fire.
“David,” Mom called through the screen door, “do you boys need to use firecrackers? You might hurt them.”
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