Part 3 (2/2)
”YOU LET HER GO YOU SON OF A b.i.t.c.h!” were her exact words.
Matt would have liked nothing more than to let Jenny go, because Jenny was kneeing his groin and scratching at him with fingernails that felt like X-Acto knives. But Matt could not move, because Mrs. Herk was right on top of him, pressing him down on her writhing, scratching, screaming daughter, slamming his face into the hard tile floor every time Anna pounded the back of his head; blood was spurting from his nose. He tried to explain himself, but the only sound he could force out through his constricted throat was an ambiguous ”Gack.” Through the darkening haze of his diminis.h.i.+ng consciousness, Matt felt a new, hairy presence next to his right cheek. It was Roger, who, having sized up the situation and decided what needed to be done, was licking up Mart's blood.
On the street outside, Miami police officer Monica Ramirez, who heard a minimum of three Monica Lewinsky jokes per day from her endlessly self-amused male colleagues, stopped her police cruiser in front of the Herk address, which had been phoned to 911 by a neighbor. She rolled down her window and heard what sounded like a woman's screaming. Turning the cruiser into the driveway, she nosed the front b.u.mper up against the steel security gate and pressed the accelerator gently; the security gate, as most of them did, immediately popped open.
Monica pulled into the driveway and got out of the car, as did her partner, Officer Walter Kramitz. They had been partners for two months now, and Monica could tell he was getting ready to ask her for a date, which meant she had been thinking about how she was going to gently tell him no, the truth being that he was a little too fascinated by his own arm muscles. Plus he was married.
Kramitz tried the front door, which was locked, then pushed the buzzer, then pounded on the door, yelling, ”Police!”
Monica didn't expect anybody to open the door. She said, ”I'm going around back,” and took off running around the left side of the house.
When she rounded the back corner, she heard the screams coming louder from the direction of the patio. As she approached the open sliding-gla.s.s door, Monica unholstered her revolver. Through the gla.s.s, she first saw a tangle of feet; then she saw people struggling on the floor, blood, and a rifle.
Pivoting in through the door opening, she raised her revolver and shouted: ”Police! Everybody hold it!” (Monica never yelled ”Freeze!” She thought it was trite.) The people struggling on the floor did not appear to hear her, although Roger immediately trotted over and, in the universal gesture of dog friends.h.i.+p, thrust his snout into Monica's crotch.
”STOP IT!” shouted Monica. This statement was aimed at Roger, but Anna Herk heard it and, with her arm still around Matt's throat, turning to see a police officer aiming a gun her way, froze.
”Get off them,” said Monica.
”I live here,” said Anna.
”Get off them anyway,” said Monica.
Anna rolled off Matt. Matt, free at last, rolled off Jenny and put his hands up to his bleeding nose. Jenny, weeping, crawled over to her mom.
”Are you OK, honey?” asked Anna. Jenny nodded.
Monica, lowering the gun but keeping it unholstered, said to Anna, ”OK, I want you to tell me what's going on.”
Anna pointed to Matt and said, ”This person tried to ... ”
”FREEZE!” shouted Officer Kramitz, coming through the patio doorway with his gun drawn. He had given up on the front door.
”It's OK,” said Monica. ”Everything's cool.”
”OK,” said Officer Kramitz, disappointed. ”What happened?”
”This lady was just starting to tell me,” said Monica. ”Go ahead.”
”This person tried to kill us,” said Anna.
Everybody looked at Matt.
”No!” he said. ”It's me! Matt Arnold.” He took his hand away from his bleeding nose so they could see who it was.
”I was just trying to kill Jenny,” he explained.
”You SEE?” said Anna.
”No, no,” said Matt, ”I don't mean kill kill her, I mean, it's a her, I mean, it's a game game, Killer. From school. I'm in her biology cla.s.s biology cla.s.s. Jenny, tell them it's me me.”
Everybody looked at Jenny, who was looking at Matt and realizing that, underneath the blood, he was, in fact, a guy from her biology cla.s.s. She had seen him looking at her, although, like all pretty girls, she had learned to appear as though she never noticed when boys were looking at her, although of course she always did.
”What are you doing in my house?” Jenny asked.
”I'm supposed to kill you,” said Matt.
”You see?” said Anna again.
”With a squirt gun,” said Matt. ”It's a squirt gun.”
Everybody looked at the rifle. Officer Kramitz went over and picked it up.
”It's a squirt gun,” he said, really disappointed now.
”Oh s.h.i.+t s.h.i.+t,” said Jenny. ”Is THAT what this is? That stupid game game?”
”Yes!” said Matt. ”The game!”
”Oh Jesus,” said Jenny. To her mom, she said: ”We have this game at school where you get somebody's name, and you're supposed to squirt them.”
”In their house house?” asked Anna. ”At night night? What kind of game is that?”
”I'm sorry,” said Matt. ”I didn't think it ... ”
”It's about TIME you people got here,” said Arthur Herk, emerging from the hallway. He had been in Nina's room, with the door locked, until he was sure the danger had pa.s.sed. Roger trotted over to see if Arthur was bringing food, but veered away when Arthur kicked at him.
”And you are ... ” said Monica.
”I own this house,” said Arthur.
”Good for you,” said Monica. ”And your name is?”
”Arthur Herk. I know the mayor, and I want to know what took you people so f.u.c.king long.”
”Sir,” said Monica, ”first, we came as soon as we got the call. Second, don't use that language with me.”
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