Brother and Sister by Edwin West Read Free Book Online

older than the other boy, and in somewhat better condition, but Bob was just as sullenly enraged as he was, and it was a nearly even fight. They stood toe to toe at first, slogging each other in the chest, ribs, stomach and arms, neither of them hitting for the face, neither of them giving an inch.
     
    It was the gradual development of the fight that was the most terrifying part for Angie. She knew that neither one of them really wanted to fight, and that all it would take at any moment was one word from her to make them stop. First, they had just been pushing one another, harder and harder, and now they were punching one another, but not aiming for the face yet, as though that would have been a step farther, as though they were still trying to hold back, still waiting for Angie to speak.
     
    Gradually, Bob was forced backward, Paul circling him, driving him slowly but steadily toward the door. Neither of them said a word -- they only moved grimly toward one another, their faces set and hard.
     
    Then Paul caught Bob with a hard left to the side, just above the belt, and Angie saw Bob’s face twist with pain. Bob backed away, trying to protect himself, and Paul pressed in on him till Bob lashed out and hit Paul high on the right cheek, just below the eye. Paul stepped back but Bob moved in on him again. Paul stood him off with a fast left jab to the ribs and came driving across with a right that caught Bob on the side of the jaw and sent him reeling back against the wall.
     
    Angie thought for a second that Bob was unconscious, knocked out but still upright only because of the wall. Bob’s legs were buckling, his arms were dropping to his sides. Then he bowed his head forward, shaking it, suddenly pushing himself away from the wall and lunging after Paul again. He ducked away from a whistling right hand and bowled into Paul. They crashed over an armchair and fell heavily to the floor, Bob on top.
     
    But Paul threw Bob off and scrambled to his feet in one smooth-flowing motion. He turned, came wading back in and reached Bob before he was completely standing again. Paul’s arms pinwheeled, left and rightsavagely clubbing Bob back across the room, until Bob stumbled backwards, throwing his arms out to the sides for balance, and Paul smashed his right fist into Bob’s unprotected face.
     
    Bob fell like a tree, this time not trying to get up again. Paul stood over him a minute, breathing heavily, then reached down and dragged Bob upright. Bob was only half-conscious. Paul half-carried and half-pulled him to the door, then shoved him out onto the porch. Angie, looking terrified through the window, saw Bob save himself from falling down the stoop by grabbing desperately at the porch post. Paul shouted something at him, Angie couldn’t hear what, and Bob went down the steps unsteadily and out to the sidewalk. Without looking back, he turned right and walked out of sight.
     
    Paul came back in after a minute, lighting a cigarette with shaking hands. He looked at Angie. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I tried to make him go. I didn’t want anything like that.”
     
    “I know,” said Angie.
     
    Paul looked around the room as though embarrassed and said, “I’ll make you some more tea.” He left the room, heading for the kitchen.
     
    Angie remained seated in the chair. She hadn’t acted, she hadn’t spoken, she hadn’t made a choice. But non-action had turned out to be action after all; silence had turned out to be louder than any words could have been. In making no choice, she had still chosen.
     
    Bob was gone. The decision had been taken out of her hands. Paul had made the decision for her and she hadn’t had to do a thing.
     
    It didn’t matter whether it was the right decision or not. She hadn’t had to make it, that was the important thing, and she was more grateful to Paul than she could have said.
     

 
    FOUR
     
    Danny McCann was a happy drunk. “I tell you, Paul,” he said happily, “the beer