The Hearse You Came in On Read Online Free PDF Page B

shouting match. I hurried over.
    Castlebaum:
You’re a bum!
    Fellows:
Shut up!
    Castlebaum:
I won’t shut up! You’re a bum! You killed that girl!
    Fellows:
You don’t know what you’re talking about, old man.
    Castlebaum:
I heard the way you treated her! You think these aren’t ears?
    Fellows:
Why don’t you mind your own goddamn business?
    Castlebaum:
Don’t you “goddamn” me in a cemetery, you Nazi!
    Fellows:
Fuck off!
    That’s when Mr. Castlebaum went for him. The old guy went for the face. His hand whipped across Guy Fellows’s cheek and left a pair of claw marks. The younger man responded instantly, growling “You little
bastard
!” as he jabbed a rabbit punch to the old man’s jaw. The little old knight went down.
    “Hey!” I rushed in. I looked around for Sam. He’s our hearse driver. Big as a wall. Nice kid. He’s also a bouncer at several clubs around town. But he was nowhere to be seen.
    Fellows was quick. The instant I registered on his screen he wheeled around and sent out another piston jab, catching me on the side of my nose. The jolt shot right to my toes. In an instant I could taste blood. Then he hit me again, this one missing my face and landing instead on my windpipe. It literally took my breath away. Guy Fellows was in a boxer’s crouch now, but he didn’t go for a third hit. Mr. Castlebaum was on his fanny, shaking off the sucker punch. I saw Fellows’s eyes flick back in the old guy’s direction and I tried to warn him off, but my throat was still collapsed. All I managed was a hiss. Then I measured my height advantage over the Grade-A prick and shoved him as hard as I could. He slammed against the side of the hearse. When he tried to straighten back up I shoved him again, harder. To be honest, I was beginning to enjoy this. I had his reach measured now and I knew he couldn’t get to my face. He whipped my arms away from him.
    “Hey, buddy, get out of my face!” he snapped. “Why don’t you mind your own business!”
    I shoved him again. I croaked, “This
is
my business. I’m in charge of this funeral.”
    The guy sneered. But he remained leaning back against the hearse. “Nice job, buddy.”
    I rubbed my sleeve along my face and got a nice blood streak for my efforts. My nose was pulsing. Mr. Castlebaum was slowly getting to his feet. I turned to him.
    “Are you okay?”
    Guy Fellows answered first. “He’s fine. I barely touched him.”
    “Is beating up on old men one of your hobbies?” I asked.
    “Hey, buddy, what I do is my own business.”
    I was getting a little tired of being called buddy. “Why don’t you apologize.”
    “He came after me first,” Fellows snapped.
    “Okay, okay. Hold on,” I said. “Look, tensions can run high at funerals. I’m sure Mr. Castlebaum didn’t mean anything—”
    “Like hell I didn’t! I meant every word. This guy is a punk!”
    Fellows slapped a hand down on top of the hearse. “Hey, old man, want a ride?”
    Ding! Round two.
The old man dove at the young man and they started to mix it up again. This time I squeezed in between the two, wedging Mr. Castlebaum aside and taking hold of Guy Fellows’s sporty lapels. Enough was enough was enough. I jerked our faces so close together we could have kissed. We played a quick game of eye chicken.
    “Can we stop this now?”
    “Let me go,” he hissed.
    “Not until you show a little more respect.”
    “What are you, an Eagle Scout?”
    I thought I had a good hold of the guy’s jacket so I rattled him hard. But he slipped right out of my hands and went slamming against the hearse again, this time giving the top of the door a good rap with his head. He came up in a fury.
    “Goddamn it!” He leaped at me, kicking and scratching. No more boxer stuff. I caught a few fingernails to the cheek. Finally Sam appeared. He hurried over, still pulling up his fly. Sam is basically a square human being, half fat, half muscle. He’s a good kid, although I’ve told him more than once