Nightrunners by Joe R. Lansdale Read Free Book Online Page B

grotesque things. A handful of them were the pull-over latex kind; he'd always wanted one as a kid.
    He leaned forward and examined the masks. They were pretty gruesome, all right.
    One was nothing but a skull face with rubbery sprigs of hair on the crown. The others were a bit more elaborate, The most elaborate was one with a knife (rubber, of course) sticking in the forehead. A purply blotch of blood flowed down across the contorted face.
    "Hey, Pop, these masks old?"
    Pop looked up. "No. Three Halloweens back, I guess. Why? You thinking of going tricker-treatin' tomorrow night?"
    "Maybe, But I won't stop here. Afraid you might give me that peanut pattie."
    Pop whooped at that. "Hell, boy, it's so damned old it don't even stink anymore."
    "Just the same . . ."
    Pop cackled.
    Montgomery pushed the cart, put a loaf of bread in it.
    "Hey, son?"
    "Yeah." Montgomery put a can of green beans in the cart.
    "That gal, the one in the truck, Marjorie. She looks pretty good, don't she?"
    Montgomery could feel heat bubbling up through his body, filling to the top of his skull.
    It wasn't passion. It was guilt. "Yeah, she looked all right."
    "All right, hell! If I was a little younger, and not happily married—well, maybe if I was just a little younger—I'd hustle that little old gal ... Come to think of it, I'd have to be a lot younger. Used to wake up every morning with a hard-on. These mornings I do good to wake up."
    Montgomery began to push the cart faster. He was suddenly anxious to be through shopping and get back to Becky. For some reason he felt uneasy away from her.
    Guilt maybe, he thought. Looking for women in pickup trucks to satisfy my deprived sex urges. Just the sort of thing I said I'd never do.
    Face up to it, No Balls Monty. Becky needs time, patience and love. You think you've offered that?
    Do you?
    No way, Jose. You've just given the impression, set a stage play for yourself.
    Always trying to weasel out of your responsibilities, find the easy path.
    ". . . never had no balls, Monty. That's what's wrong with you. No balls."
    ". . . sorry, son, about your wife . . . She's been raped ..."
    ". . . had been home, Officer, I might have done something. It might not have happened."
    (Sure.)
    ". . . wish to sign as a Conscientious Objector?"
    ". . . opposed to violence of any kind?"
    ". . . would not raise a hand to protect your ..."
    ". . . could not kill another human being."
    ". . . never had no balls ..."
    Thoughts, Words. His brother's face. Billy Sylvester smiling, taking his lunch money . . . using a candy wrapper off the yard to pick up dogshit . . , "Smile when he eats it, pussy."
    His own face. Smiling an insane Sardonicus grin. Piss running down his leg.
    All the images of the past, all the terrors and fears and excuses of a lifetime came tumbling out of Montgomery's subconscious and rolled down the stairs of his memory and came to rest in an unceremonious heap.
    He was trembling when he put the last items in the cart and rolled it to the checkout counter.
    "You okay, son?" Pop asked. "You look peaked."
    "Coming down with (the lack of balls blues) some kind of cold probably."
    "Time of year for it. Weather changes so damn much. Rain one minute, dry the next. Cold then warm."
    "How much?"
    "Let's see." Pop tallied it up on an ancient cash register. "Thirty dollars and twenty-three cents . . . don't take no checks from outa town. Nothing personal."
    "Understand." Montgomery took out his wallet, gave Pop three tens, dug the change from his pants pocket.
    Montgomery took the bags, one under each arm, and started out.
    "Come back."
    "Will do."
    On the way to his car he thought: Why have all these things so long buried, all these fears, suddenly come out of their graves to rattle their chains? What's with all this internal conflict? It was as if it had lain in ambush all this time, waiting for a good time to strike.
    To hit him while he was down.
    Well, he wasn't going to let stupid, insane fears from the