Lester Leroy Haight loved the hiss of the tire around his knife. But more than that, Lester loved the gurgle and splash of gasoline shaken from the milk bottle in his hand. The way the afternoon sun coaxed rainbows out of the fuel sliding across the hood of Hilton Fishtrap's 41 Olds softened Lester's heart, like when he first saw Evaleen leaning on the counter at the Nickel and Dime, sipping a beer through a straw. Oh, his sweet, sweet Evaleen.
Lester pulled the matches from his shirt pocket. So what if the Fishtraps ran the gambling and prostitution in Button? Not even Hilton could fondle Lester’s wife and expect to get away with it. Not while Lester Leroy Haight had love in his heart. The match head rasped against the box. Flame guttered in the breeze before Lester flicked the match onto the hood and stepped back from the blooming heat.
* * *
By the time Lester reached the clapboard shack, his hands were sweating. He'd smoked four cigarettes in the twenty minutes it'd taken to drive the rutted path and now his throat felt dry and torn. As the motor dieseled into reluctant quiet, Lester breathed deeply, still his ears felt hot and the fingers of his left hand shook. Then the shack's door opened and Evaleen peered out.
Lester exited the truck. Already he felt better. She was worth the risk. Evaleen had her hair done up with rubber bands and she was wearing that yellow dress that hugged her hips tight.
"Les?" Evaleen eyed the road and huffed. "You're supposed to be at the mill."
Lester climbed the rickety steps and reached out to cup Evaleen's cheek, but she pulled back. "You stink like gas.".
"I'll wash up. We can celebrate."
"You need to be at work. You can't be home now."
Lester stepped past her, then turned and grabbed her hips, pulling her close. "Baby," he breathed, kissing her tightening neck. There was nothing better than the smell of her skin. Nothing so beautiful in all the world.
Evaleen pushed him away. "I don't want you on me now." She crossed her arms and looked back at the road. "You should be at work."
"I know, Evie," Lester said. "But I had a thing to set right. Don't no one mess with Lester Leroy Haight's woman."
Evaleen went still. "What did you do?"
"Don't worry your head." Lester stepped past her and headed to the bathroom. "I'll shower and we can celebrate."
Lester closed the bathroom door and waited for the water to heat up out of the shaking pipe in the wall, smiling the entire time.
* * *
Lester took a long shower, working soap over himself so he'd come out of the shower hard. He turned the water off, toweled dry, then wrapped the towel around his waist, looking down where it was poking out. Good.
He didn't see the tire iron as he stepped out. Flashing black, then thorny, red pain shattered through his head. Lester dropped and someone dragged him into the living room, the towel curling into a wet heap behind him. The room tilted as he was jerked up and tied to a chair. Several minutes passed before his vision cleared, then Lester saw the elbowy form of Hilton Fishtrap. Lester tried to speak but words left his mouth ill-formed.
"Iron scattered your tongue, eh?" Hilton leaned down, cocking his head so he was staring into Lester's face. "No one torches my car, Lester."
Ropes burned his wrists and Lester couldn't pry his hands free.
"Come here, sweet heart," Hilton said.
Evaleen appeared, leaning toward him, eyes closed, fingers gripping his knees, that yellow dress bunched at her waist, and her wide, rare thighs shuddering in the room. Hilton Fishtrap slapped his palms on Evaleen's hips and grinned. He unzipped his pants.
The left side of Lester's face felt like warm wax and he wanted to say something to Evaleen but his mouth wouldn't work.
Evaleen raised her face and instead of tears, Lester saw her skin full of clouds, her mouth wet and panting. This wasn't right. That damn tire iron scatter-brained him. Evaleen sucked in her breath and tightened her fingers on Lester's knees, then Lester watched her entire body clench.
"Hilton," Evaleen whispered. Then she opened her eyes and laughed.
-------------------------------------------------
Brad Green lives in North Texas with his wife and three children. He's the assistant editor at PANK. Find him online at http://elevatetheordinary.
