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'Prove it。'
'You're the only one who can do that。'
'Not alone； I can't。' She stared up into his face。 Her hand lifted。 Her fingertips grazed his cheek。 'Help me；' she whispered。 'Help me。'
His mouth covered her open lips。
It seemed highly improbable that Billy Shawtuck should have got the nickname 'Wild Bill' but nevertheless there it was。 He was a ruddy…plexioned man in his early forties； shortish and not even stocky。 He always wore long…sleeved shirts； even at the height of summer when； even out here near the shore； there was more sweat than wind around。
Ask his buddies at Grendel's and they would tell you that was because he didn't like to show off his enormous biceps。 Of course； if pressed； they would also tell you he came to his nickname by way of eschewing beers for a double Scotch on the rocks every time。 Apparently the heat didn't bother him much。
Billy worked for Lilco； riding power…lines； and； he always said to those he beat at arm wrestling off…hours at Grendel's； he came by his muscles honestly。 'I didn't have to go to no fag gym every day to get these；' he'd say； downing the double Scotch on the rocks in a swallow and raising his arm to order another。 'Shit； my job does all that。 Honest work you can sweat at。' Then he would shake his head full of sandy hair。 'I'm not one of those goddamned desk jockeys。'
Grendel's was a local watering hole … almost exclusively blue…collar （the writers had their own favourite） … several miles outside West Bay Bridge； roadside to Montauk Highway。
Late in the evening； Billy Shawtuck stood in the doorway of Grendel's preparatory to leaving。 The sky was turning from indigo to black； the traffic from the highway taking on a spectral quality as headlights and tail…lights flicked by like the inquisitive eyes of nocturnal animals。
On the top of the steps； Billy took a deep breath and cursed the summer influx。 We're all gonna die of carbon monoxide poisoning one of these days； he thought。
Not four paces away； his Lilco truck stood waiting for him； but this evening he was reluctant to leave the cheery warmth of the bar。 Music blatted at his back from the juke inside。 Tony Bennett singing 'I Left My Heart in San Francisco〃。
You could take San Francisco； Billy thought； take the whole of the West Coast and shove it up your ass。 He'd been out there in the Army and had e to hate it。 I didn't leave anything there but a good case of the clap。 He laughed。 But； damn； I'm sure sorry I took this late job。 Time and a half was all well and good but some days … well； some days it just wasn't worth it。 He had a feeling that this was one of those days。
Sighing deeply； he went down the stairs but not before giving the finger to Tony Bennett and his shit…ass city。
His mood changed； however； as he banged down one of the dark side roads and he began to whistle tunelessly。 He didn't think this job was going to take too long。
And； of course； by that time he was thinking of Helene and the stuff he had bought her from the Frederick's of Hollywood catalogue。 Agh； he thought； maybe it came in the mail today。 It was about due。
He was picturing Helene's long…legged frame in the clothes …he laughed： if you could call them that … as he came around the last bend to the beach…front property and saw the black…clad figure step right into the beam of his left…side headlight。
'What the fuck！' He stepped on the brakes and swerved over to the right shoulder。 Leaning out of the window； he called； 'You stupid bastard！ I mighta killed you。 What's the matter with …'
The door on his side crashed open and it felt as if a tornado hurled him out of the cab。 'Hey！' He rolled across the cool tarmac。 'Hey； buddy！'
He got to his feet in a boxer's semi…crouch； his fists up in front of his chest。
'Not to fool around； you sonovabitch。'
His eyes opened wide as he saw the flash of the long blade in the wash of the headlights。 Christ； he thought； a sword。 A sword？ Jesus； I must be drunk。
A moth batted in the headlight； dazzled； and the cicadas sizzled。 Close at hand； the surf hissed and shushed like a nanny calming a crying baby。
He threw a punch。 It never connected。
The air in front of him seemed to split apart and vibrated like a bead curtain。
He felt two sensations almost simultaneously。 They were the sharpest； most exquisitely painful feelings he had ever experienced。
Once； just outside the base； he had had a scuffle with an M。P。 and the bastard had managed to slash him with a knife； wounding him in the side； before he had had a chance to bury his fist in the M。P。's face。 It was the guardhouse for him for that； but he had never felt so satisfied in his life。
But that pain； that burning was nothing to what Billy Shaw…tuck felt now。 The blur of the blade pierced the night and then pierced Billy。 From the top of his right shoulder down across his abdomen to the left side of his pelvis。 His guts began to spill out and his nostrils were suffused with a nauseating stench。
'Jesus Chri …'
Then the round wooden pole crashed； whistling like a boy at play； onto his shoulder。 He heard the sharp crack as the bones broke but； astoundingly； there was absolutely no pain。 Only the feeling that he had been driven straight through the tarmac of the road。
Tears came to Billy's eyes for the first time in years。 Momma； he thought； Momma； I'm in' home。
'I think I know what it is；' she said。
Night had e and a strong wind； springing up from the landward side of the house； rattled the trees outside。 Far off a boat hooted once and was still。 They lay close together on the bed； enjoying the nearness of their flesh； nothing sexual in it； just two beings； together。
'You won't laugh；' she said； turning her face towards his。 'Promise me you won't laugh。'
'I promise。'
'If I'm hurt … physically … it prepared me； sort of。'
'For what？'
'For the other kind of hurt。 The breaking up； the leaving。'
'That seems to me an awfully pessimistic view of life。'
'Yes； it does。'
'He put his arm around her and she put one foot between his； rubbing his shins。
After a time； he said； 'What is it you want？'
'To be happy；' she said。 'That's all。' There is nothing else in the world； she thought； but our linked bodies； our twined souls； and she thought that she had never been as close to anyone as she felt at that moment to Nicholas。 Trust had to begin somewhere。 Perhaps this was the place for her to start。
She jumped at the sound of an enormous crash that seemed to e from near the front of the house； the kitchen。 She cried out as if a cold hand had clutched at her vitals； saw Nicholas sit up； swing his legs over the side of the bed。
He stood up； and as he began to move towards the bedroom door he seemed totally transformed to her。 Standing there stark naked； he nevertheless seemed fully clothed； as if his rippling muscles and gleaming sweat…streaked skin were some mysterious raiment cloaking him。
He moved silently towards the lemon light streaming down the hallway。 He led with his left foot； his body sideways as if he were a fencer； knees slightly bent； feet not leaving the floor。 Down the hallway。 He had said not a word to her。
Gathering her wits； she went after him。
His hands were up before him； she saw； their edges reminded her oddly of blades； the fingers as stiff as steel as he moved steadily into the kitchen。
Past the table； she saw that the window over the sink had been shattered inwards and shards of glass gleamed in the light。 She dared not move farther on bare feet。 The curtains flapped in the wind rushing in through the rent； whipping against the enameled walls。
She watched Nicholas move forwards； stop as still as a statue as he peered down at something on the floor on the far side of the table near the window。 He stayed in that position for such a long time that she went cautiously across the littered floor to stand behind him。 She gasped and turned away。 But something drew her eyes inexorably back and she looked again。
On the floor was a black furry mass； large and unmoving。 Blood seeped along the floor in several places from under the body； glistening where it shone upon the ruined glass。 A strange； astringent smell assaulted her nostrils a