Do you know Earlie? He’s a simpleton. A bohunk, Ronny calls him. And stubborn.
I don’t know why he was working late. He had a new baby and a firecracker of a wife. I remember she wore a T-shirt to the garage one day: “Whiskey in Teacup”. And that’s exactly what she was.
I didn’t want any trouble between us. He was simple, but, you know, he was young.
Ronny was aiming for trouble that night. He stank of bourbon, and he was greasy with boozy sweat. I never saw him shake before that night, but his hands wouldn’t stop ticking. I knew – I tell myself that now – this wasn’t a good idea. I almost told him so, but he was in a foul mood.
Earlie was pumping gas for an out-of-state Plymouth. Might have been a Michigan plate, or even a Canadian one. The lights were dim and it was hard to tell. Earlie was wearing that perpetually sleepy face and I could tell he was thinking hard about going home.
Ronny practically hurled himself out of the car. He was fast for a suffering man. I don’t think Earlie noticed anything but a moving shadow heading for the door.
I was parked in front of the garage bay.
There was no turning back.
Excerpt from Ordinary Handsome. Available at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00P46ZPA0
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