Something Bad Read Free Page A

Boyston for decades.
    Billy started to say something but John held his hand up in front of Billy’s face in a stop motion. “Go get Mac,” John said.
    No one moved.
    The U-Haul turned left at the four-way without stopping, circled behind the church, and skidded to a stop in front of the rectory. All four men turned to face the truck, without a word.
    The doors of the U-Haul opened to reveal two of the most mismatched individuals imaginable, even for these parts. What should have been a cacophony of speculative “betchas” was replaced with total silence. Gabe’s eyes flicked back and forth between the two men.
    The driver was about the largest human Gabe had ever seen. His arms were as big as the thighs of a normal man, and they were decorated with a series of tattoos that stretched from shoulder to elbow, showing more faded blue decoration than normal skin tone. He wasn’t a young man and his barrel chest gave way to a midsection that was well on its way to dominating his shadow at high noon. He arched his back and stretched his arms skyward, turning his head toward the general store. To Gabe, his nose appeared to be missing its cartilage, like he had been a sparring partner for a series of heavyweight contenders over the past couple of decades. His dirty white tank top was tucked into faded jeans that fell significantly short of the top of well-worn steel-toed work boots.
    The giant lumbered to the back of the truck, bringing his passenger into unobstructed view. Only about five feet tall, Gabe thought. Probably weighs in double figures fully clothed.
    The man was dressed in a dark gray, three-piece suit over a silver turtleneck that seemed to reflect the sun, even when he was standing in the shade. In contrast to the lumbering walk of the giant, the passenger took small steps that barely placed the heel of one foot ahead of the toe of the other. To Gabe, it looked like he adjusted his gait like he was consciously trying to avoid stepping on sidewalk cracks and concrete spacers.
    The passenger ascended the four steps of the rectory porch, bringing both feet to each step before navigating the next. He disappeared through the double doors as the driver raised the sliding door on the back of the truck.
    An ache tugged at Gabe’s belly. It was weak, but it was there, and it appeared to be building, rising.
    The giant man jockeyed a large wooden crate to the edge of the truck bed. The U-Haul was the smallest one available, and the box took up nearly the entire back of the truck. Its apparent weight made Gabe take a silent wager that it was highly unlikely the two men could lower the box out of the truck, much less carry it up the stairs into the rectory. As the giant inched the box to a tilting balance point part way over the edge of the truck bed, the passenger appeared from the doors of the building.
    The giant grunted and strained against the box in a futile effort to lift the protruding edge, and Gabe counted the proceeds of his imaginary bet.
    Billy Smyth uttered the only words that came from the general store porch over the next minute or so. “I betcha—” was interrupted by a jerky movement of the small man; his hands clenched into tiny fists, his elbows bent slightly, and his torso curled forward. The box appeared to lighten so the giant could easily lift it out of the truck. It looked like the only problem facing the giant now was the awkwardness of the box’s size.
    Gabe bent forward slightly as a stomach cramp shot through to his backbone.
    The giant maneuvered the box like it was made of styrofoam, first up onto the sidewalk and then up the rectory steps. The whole time, the small man remained at the top of the steps and kept his wide-eyed gaze on the ungripped end of the box. He turned his whole body rather than his neck as it was moved toward him. The little man walked backwards ahead of the box, through the rectory doors, never changing his unique posture.
    “You see that?” Billy said. No one