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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1620991-A-Big-Dumb-Hand
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1620991
A dumb husband befriends a crazy person.
A Big Dumb Hand

By Stephen Lipe



I have this hobby. I really like to fix stuff. Anything. I know its not that original of a hobby. Apparently for guys who settle down in the suburbs for the first time and don’t have much better to do, its almost natural.

I tried to fix the remote control once and instead broke it beyond repair, but I was exhilarated. I drove to the store and bought a universal remote and, before using it, threw it against the wall a few times. I wanted another chance to successfully fix one.

I live in a nice house. To put it the way I see it: I have been well compensated for my choice of such a boring career. I’m an insurance agent, and I perform all my responsibilities from the inside of a quiet office that’s always too cold. I haven’t decided if its worth it, but I’ve stopped trying to decide. Its not like I’m gonna start over. I’m happy enough, I guess.

One day I notice the basement stairs are a little creaky. Its a Saturday morning, so I figure my day is planned. I walk upstairs and tell Janine I’m going to the hardware store and does she want anything. Janine’s my wife, by the way.

She says: “Are we still going to the museum later?”

I forgot about that. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that.”

She looks me in the eyes, sizing me up, for the millionth time.

“Hmm,” she says. “Well let’s go after you get back from the store.”

“I have to fix these stairs.” I say.

I wouldn’t say this, but I don’t want to go to a dumb museum, especially with these stairs calling my name, obviously.

She looks at me, allowing the opportunity to change my mind.

“Do you want to go to the store with me?” I ask. I have to offer her something after all.

She rolls her eyes and sighs, but it’s an angry sigh, not one of those helpless ones.

“Sure.” she says as she walks over to get her jacket. “Why wouldn’t I want to go to a hardware store? Its just like a museum, only crappy.”

I shouldn’t have invited her. She’s gonna ruin the whole experience in place of the guilt I’m not feeling.

At this point you may or may not be wondering why we’re married. Well, this is not an accurate cross-section of our relationship. In the three years since the marriage, and the two since moving out here, we’ve been pretty happy and can still make each other laugh easily. The only problem I have with her that I can think of is she likes museums too much. We just went to one a few months ago and she already wants to go to another one, and this one is just paintings.

After a silent ten minute car ride we arrive at Archie’s, that’s the hardware store, and I start wandering with her in tow. I always start wandering when I’m here.

“We should get a chainsaw.” says Janine. “That way, the next time I want to go to the museum, I can just kill you if you say no. That would make things easier.”

I’m glad she is starting to cheer up.

A strange looking fat man approaches us. He is wearing a white t-shirt and matching white jeans. He is wearing a name tag that just says “Kenny”. No mention of the business, just his first name in big letters. He’s a big guy but his head is too big for even his body. Its a little bit smaller than a watermelon. He has the kind of beard you only see on crazy people, and a dead look in his eyes, like he’s been awake for days.

“Hey.” he says.

“Hello.” I say.

“Hi.” says Janine.

The three of us form an isosceles triangle, us staring at him, and him at us.

Janine and I stand there for a good ten seconds without saying anything. We are hypnotized by the oddness. I couldn’t name the emotion I’m feeling. Wonder, maybe. Finally he speaks, snapping us both out of it.

“Do you need any assistance finding stuff at the store?” His voice is so incredibly monotone that it seems to bend all reality around it.

“Yeah.” I say.

I don’t really, but I just wanna learn more about this guy.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Kenny monotones back to me. “I was talking to the lady.”

He extends his open hand palm-up towards her. I don’t know if he wants her to grab it or what.

“Um…” she says, as confused as I am, or more. “I don’t know. I just followed my husband here. You’d wanna ask him.”

It was nice of her to throw it back to me.

“Yes please.” I repeat. “I need to replace some basement steps.”

He looks at me for the remainder of my sentence, then turns back to Janine.

“Right this way, malady.” he beckons her to follow. I tag along.

My wife is quite cute, but I’ve never seen anything like this. Good thing he’s so weird. Actually, I really like him. He’s something different.

He leads us to the bathroom supplies section.

“Here is where you will find your necessary help and needs.” he says. I love this guy.

Janine is not as enchanted as I am.

“This is the bathroom section.“ She says, irritated. “My husband said he needed to fix basement steps.”

“Oh.” says Kenny. “Oh my. Please accept my apologies.”

“It’s all good.” says Janine, sick of this guy.

“Perhaps if this man were to speak a little louder when he has important information to share.” He shruggs. “Ah well. Come this way, my sweet one.”

He walks ahead. Janine moves over and whispers in my ear: “We have to get rid of this guy.”

“Nah, he’s fine.” I whisper back. “I kinda like him.”

“Tom!” she whispers aggressively. That’s my name, by the way. “This guy gives me the creeps as much as any guy has ever given me the creeps.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true. What is he doing that‘s giving you the creeps?”

I’m being facetious, but I really don’t see how you can’t enjoy his presence.

“Good one.” she whispers looking straight ahead, and lets out an angry sigh.

After a few wrong turns, he finally leads us to the section where we can grab some wood for rebuilding a staircase. I already have the other stuff at home.

“And here he are.” he states triumphantly. The dead look in his eyes never goes away.

“Hey, thanks man.” I say, and I mean it.

“If you prefer, I can accompany you to your home and assist you in your construction.”

“No.” says Janine outright. She is done playing games.

I hold up my hand in her direction and address Kenny.

“I would be happy to have you, and so would Janine, I’m sure.”

She gives me a helpless look, and appears to give in. Well, how about that? I was worried I’d have to fight harder for it.

Back at the house, Janine bids us both farewell and heads quickly upstairs to the bedroom. Kenny and I carry the supplies to the basement and set them down.

“Well,” I say, clapping my hands together. “Let’s get to work.”

“Fine.” says Kenny, but in a tone that suggests less elegance than before.

For the next three hours, we work tirelessly cutting the new pieces into shape and nailing them in place, and so on.

Here’s what bugs me: The whole time we’re down there, he doesn’t say more then ten words to me total, and those ten were in a very rude tone. I try to make conversation with him, asking him where he’s from and so on, and he just ignores the questions. This is not as fun as I was expecting by any means whatsoever. I’m starting to not like this guy after all. He‘s mean.

It finally occurs to me that the solution lay upstairs in the bedroom. Obviously, he comes alive whenever Janine is there for him to impress, and when she leaves, off again, like a social robot. I had to get her downstairs to make this whole thing bearable.

“I’ll be right back.” I say, and run up the two flights of stairs.

“Hey.” I say to Janine, finding her where I expected, in the bedroom reading a suspense novel. “Sorry about before.”

“Is he gone?” she asks, preparing herself for relief. But alas, it was not meant to be.

“No, not yet.” I say. “We still have a little ways to go.”

She stares at me for a few seconds. “…and you just left him alone somewhere in our home?”

“Hey, I was wondering…”

“What? What were you wondering?”

“Nevermind.” I say. I walk sadly back down the stairs, like I’m heading towards my own execution.

“I’m back.” I tell Kenny, not hiding my disappointment upon arrival. He is sitting in a fold out chair with his legs crossed.

“I‘ve been thinking for the last three hours,” said Kenny. “and now I’ve finally come to a decision.”

I perk up. He is about to be interesting again. Hopefully.

“I’ve decided that I am in love with your wife. I’m sorry for this, Tom. We certainly have no control over the ways and means of the human heart, correct?”

“Hmm.” I said.

This isn’t really turning out the way I’d hoped. This is the most interesting thing he’s said so far all day, and yes, it is very odd. Yet strangely I am not entertained. I think it’s probably just the fear of Janine finding out about this before he‘s gone. She would really hate this information. I should probably think of a way to get him out of here.

“I’m going to give you three days to leave.” says Kenny. “If you are still in this house by then, I will be forced to come here and kill you. Fair warning.”

“Really?” I say.

Well, fuck this. I pretty much have to kick him out after saying something like that.

“I’m afraid so.” he says.

“Well,” I say. “then I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“That also is fair.” he says, as he stands up and walks past me to the partially new stairs. He turns back to me at the base of it.

“Three days.” he says again.

“Sounds good.” I say.

I’m not terrified. I’m not anything, really. Basically I’m right back to how I felt at the first moment I saw him. I’m simply mesmerized.

I sit there for a few more minutes after he leaves, then I walk back upstairs to the bedroom.

“Is he gone?” she asked immediately.

“Yeah, he’s gone. You can relax now.”

She leans her head back into the pillow.

“Whew. I’m sorry if I went overboard, but I just really hated that guy. Let’s just please not let him in the house anymore, ok?”

“Ok.” I reply.

“I mean, I was thinking about it, and we don’t even know if he worked there. He had a name tag, but it just said his name in big letters. And the cashier didn’t say anything to him. What if he’s just some crazy guy, you know?”

“You never know.” I say.

She is gonna be so mad at me for letting this happen.

The next morning, we are sitting at the breakfast table eating Cheerios, and I make a judgement call. I decide I should probably let her know at least a little about me and Kenny’s conversation. She may find out soon, not matter what. Not that I’m afraid of him, you understand.

“So I guess that Kenny guy…the guy from yesterday, ya know?”

She finishes chewing. “Yeah?”

“I guess he’s in love with you or something.”

She lets out a short uncomfortable laugh. “Yeah, apparently.”

“Yeah…”

C’mon Tom. You can do this.

“Actually, it’s pretty definite. He told me when we were downstairs.”

She looks up at my eyes. “What?”

“Yeah.”

“That is so fucked up! What did he say?”

“Well, he said that he’d fallen in love with you…”

“Ugh. After what? Twenty minutes of me being hateful to him? That’s so weird and sad.” She slams her hand down on the table and grips the edge in protest.

“…and that he was giving me three days to leave before he shows up to get you.”

At this, Janine gives me what I can only describe as a queer look.

“What does that mean? Before he shows up to get me?”

I pause for a second. This is one of those conversations where you know an explosion is coming, but you don’t exactly know where, so you keep tensing up, getting ready for it, like a small child at a fireworks show.

“Well…” I continue, trying as hard as I can to sound nonchalant.” and this is just what he says, so don’t worry about it, obviously. But he says that he will show up in three days, and if I’m still here then he’s gonna kill me and, I don’t know, I guess kidnap you or something.” I smile, but I’m not feeling it. “Isn’t that weird?”

This information clearly has an effect on her. She is not looking at me with anger as I had been thinking she would. More fear than, really. She puts her elbows up on the table and covers her mouth with her hands. Maybe I wouldn’t get yelled at after all.

“What did the police say?” she asks.

“What do you mean?”

“When you called them. Did they tell you anything?”

Maybe I should have done that already.

“I didn’t call the police. C’mon, we don’t need police protection from this guy!”

“You don’t know that!!” she yells. Always a surprise. “You don’t know anything!! He didn’t even work at the store! What if he’s some drifter who’s killed hundreds of people!!?? How could you possibly assume that this guy isn’t dangerous!!??”

She pauses. I don’t answer, so she keeps on going.

“Because he’s weird!!?? What difference does that make!!??” She throws her arms wide for emphasis, then let them sink at her sides. “How could you even think of taking this man to our house? Why didn’t you listen to me?”

I could only think of one thing to say:

“Sorry about that.”

“Call the police. Now. I’m going to sit here and watch you do it.”

“I was going to call them, so that’s fine.”

I pick up my cell phone up from the table, but pause before calling. I am trying to think of something witty to say to Janine. I don’t want it to be like this. I find it really hard to concentrate when Janine is mad at me. Nothing comes to mind. Oh well. I make the call.

“9-1-1. What is your emergency?”

“Oh. It’s not really an emergency. More of a small concern, really.”

I give Janine a look as I say that last part.

“Sir, this is an emergency line. If there isn’t one, please hang up and call some other number.”

“Well, hold on. Maybe you are the person I should be talking to. You be the judge: Yesterday some guy said he was gonna kill me and I don’t know I guess kidnap my wife. I don’t think he’s gonna do it, of course. I figured I’d let you guys know.”

The operator is quiet for a few seconds. I think I hear typing. I start to feel insecure.

“Is that 9-1-1 worthy or not?” I finally ask, unable to take the suspense any longer.

“Hold on.” she says. “I’ll connect you.”

I feel relieved. Suddenly another voice is on the line.

“Officer Jeffries.”

Cool. This cop says hello by saying his name. I should start doing that.

I tell him the story, and he says he’ll be right over, which is embarrassing. Here I am trying to convince Janine that its not a big deal, and nobody’s helping me out! I thank him and hang up the phone.

“He says he’ll be right over.” I tell Janine, rolling my eyes.

“See?” she says, and eats a spoonful of cheerios. Of course she can eat now that she’s proved herself right. This is annoying.

Officer Jeffries shows up a half hour later all serious. He looks like an ex-military guy: late twenties with a crew cut and a scar on his cheek. He could probably kill Kenny with one hand. We give him Kenny’s description for his notebook.

“Oh, and he has a nametag that says Kenny in really big letters.” I add at the end.

“It doesn’t say anything else on it.” says Janine.

“Should make him easier to find.” I throw out there.

“Yes. Unless he removes it.” Says Officer Jeffries in a very serious tone.

“I hadn’t thought of that.” I say.

“Well, it‘s my job to think like a criminal. Lucky break for you that I‘m here. Lucky for you that is. For him? Eh, I don‘t know.” says the Officer.

I smile at Janine. This guy is a walking action movie.

“Do you two have any kind of box you can lock yourselves in if he comes back?” he asks.

We look at each other.

“A box?” asks Janine.

“It’s much safer and cheaper than a panic room. Think about it: No one would think to check a box if he’s looking for people to kill. He would only do that if he’s looking for stuff to steal, and your guy isn’t.”

“I guess that‘s true.” Says Janine, narrowing her eyes.

“Yep, that’s my job. Figuring stuff out for people like you. I’m an innovative police officer.”

“Thanks for your help.” I say.

“Anytime, guys.” He hands us his business card. “If he comes back, and you have a few seconds to spare before you have to get into the box, give me a call.”

“Okay.” I say.

He starts to walk off, then stops.

“Oh and one other thing. You might want to put a sign on the front door that says you both are dead. Just on the day he’s supposed come back. That way maybe he’ll see the sign and just leave. Only leave it on for the day though, so as not to scare friends and relatives. Just a thought. I’m innovative, so…have a nice day.” He walks off.

I look at Janine and smile.

“Feel better yet?”

Janine isn’t smiling. She looks down avoiding my eyes. After a few seconds, a tear rolls down her cheek.

“No.” she says. “I feel worse.”

“What? Why? I thought this is what you wanted!”

“That guy was a total… crazy moron idiot.” She says, her voice shaking. “Before I thought we could get the police to help us. But now…” she stops for a second, presumably to keep from sobbing.”…but now I don‘t. Cause it‘ll might be that guy.”

She points out the window to officer Jeffries car. He notices her pointing and waves as he drives off, almost hitting a dog.

Unbelievable.

“What is the problem with that guy? He’s straight out of an action movie. That’s the kind of cop I do want around!”

“He wants us to escape from the guy by hiding in a box, and putting a sign on our front door saying we’re dead!” She yells, in near hysterics.

“He’s innovative.” I explain calmly.

“Yeah, I’m aware of his innovation skills! Explain to me a situation where somebody dies, and there’s a note on their door saying this person is dead. Who is putting a death sign on a dead persons door?”

“What do you mean?”

She looks at me like she just found out she’s the only person on earth, which I don’t think is fair. But before I can respond to it, she continues.

“Kenny is not going to believe a sign saying we’re both dead!? And I don’t even care about the third day thing, anyway. We can check into a motel that day. Problem solved! The real problem is he might keep coming back until he’s caught or killed. Did you think of that?!”

Score one for Janine.

“No, I guess I didn’t.”

“And that cop. That’s the guy looking out for us.” Her voice is beginning to shake again. I can see water in her eyes. “Or maybe he doesn’t even care, and he was just messing with us. Maybe he’s seen so many people get killed it’s just a big joke to him or something. Maybe…” She can’t go on any further. Another tear rolls down.

She runs up the stairs.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m packing!” she yells from the bedroom.

I run up there to find her throwing clothes into our big suitcase on her knees. I have to ask:

“You’re not leaving me, are you?”

She stops and looks up at me.

“No. Don’t be stupid.”

“Ok, good.”

“I need you to carry the suitcase, anyway. It‘s gets really heavy.”

“…Right.”

“We’re going to my parents house, and we’re gonna stay there for a few weeks. After that, you are coming back here by yourself to make sure everything’s alright. Bring a weapon in case he’s living in here or something. If there’s no signs of break-in or anything, then we can move back in. I can’t think of a better plan than that at the moment, but we can play it by ear. Sound good?”

I think it over for a few seconds.

“I guess that works.”

“Of course it works.”

“Ok then.”

It really is a halfway decent plan, though I was hoping to witness a final showdown between Officer Jeffries and Kenny, and that will be all but impossible if we leave. I feel a little embarrassed. I have an uncomfortable feeling that we are completely overreacting. I remind myself that we’re better safe than sorry, but we all know if you live your entire life like that you’ll miss out on a lot of cool stuff. I don’t know. Better at the moment to listen to Janine. She knows what she wants.

“Hey, can you go grab the bathroom stuff?” she says.

“Sure.” I say, and head down the hallway toward the bathroom.

The bathroom stuff. Yeah, Janine is practical.

I walk into the bathroom and start grabbing things out of the cabinet thing from behind the mirror. You know what I’m talking about? Anyway there’s a bunch of stuff up there and I figure I’ll wrap it in a bath towel. We keep those in another larger cabinet thing under the sink. I open up the cabinet door and holy crap!

Kenny is curled up inside the cabinet!

For an instant I think he’s dead, because his eyes are closed and he’s not moving. Then his eyes open and he looks at me passively. We both look at each other for about thirty seconds: me squatting at the cabinet and him curled up inside it. I figure I should say something, but it’s awkward. In a situation like this, logic does all the talking and there are no words left for the people involved.

Finally I decide nobody’s getting anywhere unless we have a conversation.

“I thought you said you’d be back in three days.” I say. “Its been one.”

He looks at me like he just woke up from a good sleep, which I figure is the case.

“I said I was giving you three days.” he calmly retorts. “Anyway, if I left you’d lock me out.”

I look away for a second because I am speechless again. This guy is a thinker, all right. A question pops into my head. I turn my head back to him:

“So wait. You never even left the house in the first place?”

“Nah, I just came up here. I took some of your food in the middle of the night. Sorry about that.”

“That’s okay.” I say, and I mean it. I don’t worry about food. I make enough money to afford plenty of it.

He seems calm, not likely at the moment to begin a murderous rampage, so I decide to be honest.

“Look, I think I’m gonna call the police. Just stay right there, okay?”

“Don’t do that.” he says calmly.

I don’t like the sound of that reply. I’ve seen enough action thrillers in my day to know the bad guy always has a trick up his sleeve. I remain in my squatted position and look at him for a while again. I am trying to figure out what he can possibly do to me from in that cabinet. It would take him at least ten second just to get out of it. What is he gonna do? This is gonna drive me crazy.

“What would you do if I did?” I ask, unable to take the suspense any longer.

“Kill you.” he says.

Well, that’s no help. Finally, I chicken out. I may have a death contract on calling the police, but Janine doesn’t.

“Hey Janine!” I yell.

“What?” yells a muffled voice from down the hall.

“Do me a favor and call Officer Jeffries.”

Silence, then:

“Why?”

Then footsteps.

As she makes the trip down the hallway, Kenny has a smile on his face, but it isn’t an evil or crazy smile: It’s a smile of love. I’ll be pretty pissed off if this scary little guy kills me.

She walks up to the door and sees Kenny curled up in the cabinet. Before an instant passes, she jumps like a jolt of electricity hit her and lets out a curse word or two before running back down the hallway toward the bedroom again.

“Sweetness, I can explain!” yells Kenny.

“She doesn’t want you to explain.” I say, annoyed. I start to get up to follow her.

“Wait.” he says to me. “Hold on a second.”

“What?” I ask, standing over him.

He reaches around to the back of the cabinet producing a pistol, and he shoots me in the stomach.

Damn! I stumble out of the room before he shoots again. The next time somebody who wants to kill me tells me to do something, I’m gonna do the exact opposite! I put my right hand over the bullet wound, guessing I need to do that so all my fluids don’t drain out or something horrible like that, and make it back to the bedroom. I don’t feel any pain yet. Janine is on her cell phone, and let me tell you she is freaking out!

“Yes!” she yells at her phone frantically. “We’re upstairs! He’s in the bathroom right now! He just shot my husband! In the stomach! We need an ambulance right now! And you guys! Please come now!”

She hangs up the phone.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a gun hidden anywhere, would you?” she asks.

“Not really.” I answer, pressing harder on my stomach. I feel like that’s the right thing to do.

I hear Kenny’s muffled voice from the bathroom:

“Hey you guys! Don’t freak out, okay? I’m coming in there.”

Janine looks at me with murder in her eyes.

“No he isn’t.”

I believe her. I close the bedroom door. Janine scans the bedroom, looking all around for something to use as a weapon. I watch her in awe. If I could get to see Janine kill some home invader, it would make up for all the bad.

“I’m not letting you in here because you shot me!” I yell. No way to argue that.

“Baby.” he says from right outside the bedroom door. “I just want in so I can kill that guy. Do you think I’m gonna kill you? Please don’t think that. I couldn’t bear it if you thought I felt that way about you. I think… I think I’m in love with you.”

“I hope you’re not falling for this guys lines.” I say, and mean it.

“Shut up, Tom.” she says, pulling a large softball out of a box in the closet. Holding it up to her chest, she looks at me and shrugs. It will have to do. Suddenly she gets an inspired look on her face. She reaches back into the closet and shakes the coats off two coat hangers. Then she grabs the hook tips from each and bends them straight. The she throws one of them to me. She nods.

Coat hangers and a softball. Well, I guess it’s time to survive.

She stands in front of the door and pulls her arm back in a pitcher stance. I stand against the wall next to the door with my hand on the knob, and the other on my stomach, respectively. We nod at each other.

“Okay.” I say. “We’re letting you in, but just to talk. No shooting.”

He lets out a disappointed sigh.

“Fine, I guess. That’ll do for now.”

I turn the knob. Suddenly Janine gets a look on her face like something just occurred to her. As the door swings open she drops the baseball and coat hanger and lets her arms fall to her sides. The swinging door reveals Kenny aiming his pistol straight ahead at her. She has a defenseless look in her eyes. Kenny lowers the gun.

“I was thinking about it,” she says, full of emotion. “and I think I might feel the same way, too.”

For the first time, Kenny’s eyes widen.

“Really?” he says. “That’s a relief. You seemed really scared of me before. I thought it would take more time.”

“I was scared before.” says Janine. “but it just suddenly hit me, you know? Tom would never do something like this for me.”

Oh no!

“Oh wow!” says Kenny. “I was hoping so hard that you might see it that way. Come here.”

He holds out his arms for an embrace. She moves in. They hug. He sighs a sigh of loneliness defeated. She runs her hands all the way down his arms to his hands, which are against her back. Her hands close over the pistol. She looks at me, and she nods.

“Now!” she yells.

“What? Oh.” I had been falling for it. Quickly I jump over to them and stab him in the eye with my coat hanger.

He shrieks in a way you normally only hear babies do. So loud and piercing. I cover my ears, getting stomach blood on my right ear. He wants to move his hands to his eye, but he doesn’t want to let go of the gun. Nor can he fire it. Janine’s hand is over the trigger. He is stuck. I grab the softball lying on the ground and start whacking him in the head with it as hard as I can. Finally he lets go of the gun and instantly lunges at me, grabbing my throat. Of course that was his fatal mistake.

BANG! BANG!

I am suddenly deaf, but I see Kenny falling with two holes in the side of his head, the side that is facing Janine. He is on the ground. She sets the gun down and stands back up. We look at each other through a thin cloud of smoke. She shrugs. Neither of us is happy or terrified. We are both simply mesmerized by the moment.

Finally Janine speaks.

“Gonna have to buy a new carpet.”

“Yeah. Definitely.” I say. Then I think of something more meaningful:

“Well I hope you’re not traumatized or anything, because that was awesome.”

She looks down at Kenny for a few seconds.

“Yeah.” she says. “That was pretty awesome.”

Officer Jeffries walks into the room with his gun drawn. He sees Kenny on the floor and lowers his gun.

“Awesome!” he remarks. “You guys got On-The-Floor-Franky! He’s been killing people all over the state!”

“That’s his name?” I ask.

“That’s what we call him. He pretends to work at stores and stalks people he meets there. Never ends pretty. Oh you guys are so awesome!”

“Thanks.” says Janine.

“Yeah, it was all Janine, sir.” I say. “Also, that’s not a very awesome nickname. Its pretty dumb, actually.”

“Whatever you say!” says Jeffries. “Damn it, you guys are so awesome!”

Me and Janine high-five each other.

“Well I guess I’ll go to the hospital.” I say, smiling.

Officer Jeffries raised his hand.

“I’ll drive you. Rarely I get to help out somebody so awesome.”

“Cool.” I say.

A personal ride to the hospital.

That's when my stomach starts to hurt, but its a good hurt.
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