Rough Draft by James W. Hall

Author:James W. Hall
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780312974923
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

NINETEEN

Hal Bonner followed the fat man’s dark blue Ford through traffic a few miles east of the shopping center to a neighborhood of two-bedroom houses with red tile roofs, and one-car garages. A big shady tree out in the front yard of every one. Sidewalks, fences in the back. Dogs barking. Some tricycles and swing sets and statues of Catholic saints inside glass domes. People off at work doing whatever people at work did.

Driving through traffic, Hal decided he hated Miami. In most ways it was the same as Milwaukee and Atlanta and Chicago, same burger places, same pizza places, chicken and pancake places, same gas stations, same Wal-Marts. But there was something different here. It was hotter, stickier than anywhere he’d been. Even South America. The air smelled like melting asphalt and concrete. His skin couldn’t breathe. His lungs wouldn’t fill. And the way people drove their cars. Everyone angry, everyone swerving left and right, looking for any gap, any advantage. Hal felt his heart beating. The thump of it against his ribs. Something he’d not felt before in any other town. The heat, the pushy drivers, the brightness in the sunlight. Hal’s heart was beating. It was loud in his ears. It didn’t usually beat. Usually it was silent inside him.

Ahead of him on the shady street, the blue Ford swung into a driveway and Hal drove on past the house and stopped at the next intersection and turned his bike around and headed back slowly. Two doors down from the fat man’s place there was a house for sale. The blinds were drawn, no car in the drive. Hal parked the bike in the driveway of the vacant house. He took off the helmet and set it on the seat of the bike.

Hal headed down the sidewalk. Feeling the pressure come into his veins, the electric spark in his heart muscle. All the glands opening, pumping out their drugs, giving Hal Bonner that edge, that high, hot chemical advantage.

He ambled down the sidewalk like he belonged there, not darting from tree to tree, hiding in the shadows. Walked like it was Sunday afternoon and the neighbors were all outside, mowing grass, throwing sticks to their dogs, cutting flowers, whatever normal people did on Sunday in their cute yards.

He wondered if the fat guy had a wife. He wondered if he had a daughter or son or a big dangerous dog. Hal Bonner didn’t mind dogs. He’d dealt with them before, snarling, fur standing up, teeth snapping. Hal just had to look them deep in the eye and they’d start backing away, their snarl quieting, sometimes becoming a whimper. They could smell who he was, knew instinctively what he could do. Hal hadn’t met a guard dog yet that wanted to find out for sure.

Hal stopped in the driveway of the small stucco house with a red tile roof. It was painted white with brick-red trim on the shutters and front door. There was a security light mounted high on a pole in the side yard.

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