Fistful of Feet Read Online Free PDF Page B

pick up the pieces.”
       “That’s sickening,” Mary said.
       “If it makes you sick, that’s alright. I imagine if you really saw your husband get shot in front of you that you’d probably vomit anyway. Just go with it, Mary. Lord knows I’m paying you enough. Now just sit right there and look at that wall and pretend you’re just enjoying the carriage ride.”
       Mary did what she was told. She sat next to the smelly Lincoln-creature and stared at the wall. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Timothy touching himself. Then he said, “Okay, now make believe you see someone you know out there yonder. Wave to them and keep waving until I tell you to stop.”
       She waved reluctantly. It was a strange thing to do but Mary had to admit that waving was preferable to some of the other requests she had come across like Doctor West who had wanted to perform extremely invasive medical examinations with bizarre equipment made of glass and bone. She had staunchly refused every time yet the doctor came back week after week with the same request.
       Her daydream was interrupted by Timothy saying, “Bang, bang, you’re dead! Bang, bang, you’re dead!” He tiptoed to the bed and starting sticking his index finger into the squid and then continued to stick all of his fingers in, scooping out stringy pieces of flesh. Mary jumped off the bed.
       “Holy shit!” She stood with her back against the farthest wall in the room.
       Timothy looked at her. “That’s it! Keep going! Scream to high heaven! Look! Your husband’s brains are everywhere! Everywhere!”
       Mary closed her eyes. She didn’t want to watch him mutilate the squid with his fingers even if the thing was already dead. She could hear the squishy sounds of Timothy’s hand as it went in and out of the wet carcass.
       “Mary! Come here and gather up some of your husband’s brains and skull! Come on! Your president needs you!”
       “No! Just stop!” she said. “Stop before I call Stacklee!”
       The noise stopped. Mary opened her eyes and saw Timothy standing there naked, covered in squid juice and squid flesh. He didn’t look happy.
       “I paid you to do something for me and I expect it to be done, see? You have the nerve to threaten me with calling your damned nigger friend? What’s he going to do about it?”
       Maybe it was the fact that she was being yelled at or the sight of Timothy covered in putrid slop but whatever it was, it made her want to fall down to the floor and weep. So that’s what she did.
       Timothy sighed heavily. “Mary, don’t cry. I’m sorry I yelled. You have to understand I just get angry sometimes.” He walked over to her and put his hand on her cheek. “Just come back over to the bed and pick up some of the pieces, okay?’
       Mary couldn’t believe that the man went from yelling to apologizing and then back to insisting that she follow through with what got her upset in the first place. But she thought of what Betty had told her. Timothy Horn must leave satisfied.
       “Okay,” said Mary, looking at the floor. She walked over to the bed and started picking up pieces of squid flesh with her right hand and putting them into her left. Timothy stood behind her touching himself.
       “That’s it, Mary. If you feel like crying again, don’t hold it in.”
       She let tears flow but not because Timothy wanted her to but because if she didn’t, she was sure she’d end up feeling worse. After a minute Mary had a handful of the creature’s flesh. Then she felt Timothy’s penis against her leg.
       “You know, Mary. I’m paying you for two days. You’re to stay with me all night. We may have to do this a few times to get it right. The president can be mighty finicky.”
       Mary sighed and said, “Okay.”
       “Now let’s see if you can milk me like a cow,” he said.
       Mary was afraid to turn around but did anyway. After all, she had