Page 125 of The River We Remember

Though Brody would not himself have kissed her there, in such a public way, she stood on her toes and lifted her face and pressed her lips to his.

“Take care of yourself,” she said.

SCOTT COULD BARELY bring himself to look at Del. He’d never seen such brutality. To have it visited on his best friend made him hurt, too. He didn’t feel the pain in his face, but he certainly felt it in his heart.

“Fuggin’ Creasy,” he said.

“Fuggin’ Creasy,” Del echoed.

They sat on the lawn inside the frame of Scott’s lean-to. He’d built it visualizing himself on a mountainside far above the rest of the world. In his imagination, it had been a kind of refuge, protection from all that nature might throw at him. But he understood now that there was another kind of fury, the human kind, and how did anyone protect themselves from that? Laws could punish, but laws kicked in only after terrible things had been done. In a way, they were like that lean-to, a promise with no substance.

“I’m going to kill him, Madman.”

Scott had never heard his friend speak so quietly or so cold.

No you’re not, Scott wanted to say. Because he hoped Del’s thinking was another thing that was like the lean-to. How could a kid—and that’s what they were, still just kids—do something so terrible, so destructive, so utterly final? It happened on the movie screen in the Rialto, maybe, but not in real life. Not in Jewel, Minnesota.

“Honest to God, Madman, I thought he was going to kill me. Probably would have if Mom hadn’t clobbered him with that big glass ashtray. Didn’t drop him, but it dazed him enough we pushed him outside and he drove off.”

“Why didn’t you call the sheriff?”

“I wanted to, but Mom…” He shook his head. “I don’t get her, Madman. So I grabbed one of his guns in case he came back.”

“Where is it?”

“I put it under the sofa when the sheriff showed up this morning. I’m going back to get it, then I’m going after Creasy.”

“You don’t know where he is.”

“I’ll bet the rest of the Creasys do. They’re like snakes, all balled up together.” He stood abruptly. “I’m out of here, Madman.”

Scott leapt to his feet. “Wait, Wolfman. You’re not really going to do this?”

“Just watch me.”

“You sound as crazy as Creasy.”

“Don’t you ever compare me to that bastard.”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant you can’t go out there looking to shoot someone. There’s no way that can end well.”

“It sure as hell won’t for Creasy.”

“Let the police deal with him.”

“And what? They lock him up for a while? Then he just comes knocking on our door again. I want him out of our lives for good.”

Del moved to leave but Scott stepped in front of him. “Wolfman—”

Del pushed him aside. “Out of my way.”

It was crazy thinking, all of it. Scott couldn’t let Del go, not like that. But he knew, too, that he couldn’t stop his friend and also that he couldn’t tell anyone. It seemed to him that he had only one choice.

“I’m going with you,” Scott said. “Wait here.”

“What are you doing?”

“If my mom looks out and we’re gone, we won’t get far. I’m going inside and make up something.”