Nolans eyes were on the TV paying no attention to people coming and going behind him. Ponce came over looking strange, tense. Nolan, you got trouble. Dont look around. Keep looking at me. Be cool. Marty just came in. Hes sitting in the back with some of his derelict friends. Hes asking questions. Theyve been pointing your way.

Holy shit, Vals Marty? squeaked Nolan, choking on his beer, then spilling the remainder on the bar as he tried sitting it down.

Yup, its him. Youd better beat feet. He just might be looking to kick ass.

Give me your keys, Nolan begged, shaking now. As frightened as a fawn the first day of deer season, his nerves were leaving him. Come on, give me your keys, that guys a killer. Im going to your place.

Ponce handed over his keys. Nolan bolted for the door. His public bragging having put the noose tightly around his own neck. Not five seconds later Marty got up, headed out, obviously in chase. The hard looking man paused only an instant in front of Ponce. Marty pointed a long finger, shouting, Youre next shithead!, then ran out after Nolan.

Ponce had seen the gun butt bulging out of Martys open coat. He already knew Marty often carried a 44 magnum pistol. People made fun of him behind his back because he constantly showed it off. Ponce went to the phone. He called the police. Then his boss. He was working alone. He couldnt just leave until the owner showed. The wait was horrible.

Nolan made an absurd picture, attempting to run down the street. His ungainly waddle laughable. As he reached the corner street lamp he turned, looking over his shoulder. Just then, Marty burst out of Serventis door spotting Nolan in the glare of the corner light. Nolan turned away, now petrified. He had trouble chugging down the gravel alley. His limbs failing to obey, turning to jelly. He gained the porch, then managed to stumble inside locking the door, but only seconds ahead of the rabid Marty. When he reached the locked door, Marty began pounding and screaming.

Youre a dead man, you fat slob! Im gonna blow off your balls, then blow out your brains. Youre dead! You hear? Dead!!

Nolan stood stock still in the middle of the kitchen staring at the door, shaking. By this time he was drenched in sweat. The picture of a coward. Helpless while the pounding and cursing continued. Then the noise stopped. The quiet was worse for Nolan. He heard climbing noises. Marty was on the porch railing. Next the porch roof. Then the roof of the little two story house. Nolan knew Marty would soon find a way inside one of the upstairs windows. His fear grew to an enormous intensity. A vast wave of nausea forced him into the only action of which he was capable. He scrambled into the bathroom. Locked the door. Dropping his pants, he squatted on the commode in the nick of time. Crying. Shitting. Coming apart. Then simultaneously he heard a car skid to a stop on the gravel alongside the house, while from the roof came the sounds of shattering glass. Car doors slammed. A woman screamed. Val, he was sure.

From the roof came a grasping, sliding, choking yelp. A thump. Then a split second of stillness followed by another louder crash. Nolan felt he knew what had happened. Quickly he cleaned himself, belted up and went cautiously to the front door, peering timidly from behind the torn pull-shade, not moving. Nolan unlocked and opened the door, but made little advance.

Stacy looked up from the crumpled Marty to his wife, Val. She noticed Val seemed in a trance, her eyes glazed over. Is he dead? Stacy asked quietly. He lay in the hard dirt yard like a broken doll. The pistol still in his right hand aiming directly at the right side of his upper torso, his elbow awkwardly out in a fractured pose. Val didnt answer her friend. Stacy repeated herself a bit louder, Is he dead?

Nolan stepped gingerly out on the porch. Curious. Val moved dispassionately to the leafless brown hedge bordering the walkway, breaking off a small branch. She moved back to her husbands fallen body waving Stacy aside with a hand motion. Stacy retreated to the porch next to Nolan. Then resolutely Val, using the branch, carefully depressed the pistols trigger. The noise was ear-splitting, shockingly loud. Martys back humped upwards forcefully, then back to earth with the sounds of escaping air.

There, Val calmly announced. She joined her friends. The trio sat down on the edge of the porch step. Waiting now. Nolan still trembling a bit. No one consoled him. No one spoke. An aura of tranquillity overcame the scene.