Текст книги "The Good Neighbor"

Автор книги: Kimberley A. Bettes

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

I was only two steps from the top when I saw what Andy had seen. Yes, there was a large vat in the basement. And yes, it was full of blood.

We froze on the steps. Now it was my muscles that tensed. I fought my instincts, which were telling me to get the hell out of there. For some reason, I couldn’t leave. I wanted to know. I wanted to know, and I wanted him to tell me.

“Come on down, boys. Nothing to be afraid of here.” The old man certainly did have a friendly voice. Add to that my morbid curiosity and I knew I had to go down there.

I urged Andy forward. He reluctantly took a step, then two, and finally we made it to the bottom.

The old man stood there amongst a large machine and several big vats. He looked around, as if trying to see it for the first time. He laughed.

“I can see why you’d think that was blood.”

“If it isn’t blood, what is it?” Andy asked without disguising his anger and distrust.

“It’s red dye.” He motioned to the large machine behind him. “It’s cheaper to buy white and dye it red.”

Still confused, I asked, “What are you talking about? White what?”

He motioned for us to come closer. We did.

“Fabric. White is cheaper. I dye it the colors I want. In this case, red in this vat, and blue in that one over there.” He indicated one of the other vats. “I’m making flags this month.”

I looked around at his equipment, closer now, trying to make it make sense.

He must’ve seen the confusion on our faces.

“Quilts, boys. I make quilts.” He turned on the large machine behind him. It started to hum, a noise I recognized from the previous evening, and began quilting a gorgeous quilt. Raisins his voice to be heard over the machine, he said, “This was my wife’s hobby. When she died, I had so much free time I took it up as my own hobby. It makes me feel closer to her.” He held onto the handles and moved the needle over the fabric, stretched taut on the frame.

Looking at him, this frail old man with his thin white hair, it was hard to imagine him making quilts. Partly, because he was a man.

“Quilts?” Andy asked, trying to make it sound right.

“What do you do with them?” I asked, clearly a step ahead of Andy.

“I donate them. Sometimes to homeless people, sometimes to children’s hospitals, and sometimes to veterans. That’s why I’m making flags this month. They’re going to the Am Vets.”

That’s when Andy laughed like a fool. Admittedly, I had to join him. We’d been so far off base about Mr. Jenson.

We told him about wondering what he had in those heavy black bags.

He furrowed his brows together and said, “You boys watched me struggle with all those bags and didn’t offer me any help?” It wasn’t funny then. It was sad. “Well, I suppose if you really thought I was killing people, it only makes sense that you wouldn’t want to be any part of it.”

We had a nice visit with Mr. Jenson after that mess was straightened out. We apologized many times for suspecting him and for not offering help with the heavy bags. Once Andy told him about Carla’s two-year theory, he laughed. He agreed that it certainly had made him look suspicious. He also agreed that it was a lot of deaths to have occurred on one street in such a short amount of time.

The ironic thing was that Jenson had noticed the uncanny amount of horrible happenings on this street, even though the rest of us had failed to see it.

29 Andy

Jenson agreed with us that three deaths on one street in two years was a lot. Of course, his agreeing with us didn’t change the fact that we still didn’t know the answer to the mystery.

Maybe there was no answer. As I walked to my house from Owen’s, I realized that maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe there was no mystery to solve, no riddle to keep me awake nights. No reason to be suspicious of others. After all, we’d cleared Jenson. That only left me and Jill, Owen, Bernie, Hazel, and Louis. Carla just moved here, so she was innocent. Hazel was the sweetest little old lady you could ever meet. There was no way she’d be capable of anything like that. And Louis was rarely ever here.

That only left Bernie.

I opened the door to my house, but before entering, I turned and looked across the street at Bernie’s. Was it possible? Could that guy be the one responsible for the awful happenings that had occurred on Hewitt Street?

I’d never liked that guy. I not only thought it was possible, I was starting to think it was probable.

I went inside. I stopped in my tracks briefly, as I thought that maybe – just maybe – Jenson was the killer. It was a perfect cover, his quilt hobby. It would give him a great cover-up story if he was ever a suspect. But I dismissed that thought almost as soon as it popped into my head. It wasn’t Jenson.

But Bernie, now that was possible. Elaine was his next-door neighbor. He could’ve easily broken into her house at night, raped and killed her, dumped her body and returned home. Why? Who knew? But it was possible.

I found a note from Jill saying she’d be back and that she loved me, which I already knew. I hadn’t had a chance to spend much time with her the past few days. Running around trying to figure out the whole Jenson thing had monopolized my time. Of course, that was over now. I needed to spend some quality time with my wife.

After I wolfed down a sandwich, I showered and went to bed. Though I was done with night shift and had the next couple days off work before beginning day shift, I still needed sleep. Switching over to sleeping nights again was the hardest part of swing shift.

I fell asleep thinking of Jill.

30 Carla

I’d spent the afternoon researching online the different ways to defend myself against Bernie. I’d gone over techniques and methods. I’d even stood in my living room, practicing my moves while the kids napped. I’d read and studied everything I could find on the subject. Though I didn’t have a live person to practice on, I felt somewhat secure in what I’d learned.

The next step was to gather up anything that could be used as a weapon. I didn’t want to scare the children, so I put that off until later. Once they went to bed, I’d go around the house and find anything I could use. In the meantime, I made mental notes of what would work and what wouldn’t.

My studying was interrupted momentarily when Owen called to say he was going to sleep, but would be by later. I felt bad for him, having his sleeping schedule thrown off. I couldn’t wait for him to be back on track. I liked it when he spent the day with me.

I couldn’t believe I’d found someone so quickly after moving here. Not just someone I liked so much, but someone that my kids liked also. It surprised me because I hadn’t been looking for someone. I’d always heard that love finds you when you aren’t looking and when you’re not expecting it. I see now that’s true.

I had gotten really lucky. Even though it was sad that my aunt died, and was horrible to have lost her, it was a blessing that she’d left me her house. If not for that, I would never have moved here, would never have met Owen, and would never have fallen in...well, it was too soon to say that, but that’s what it felt like.

Of course, I also wouldn’t be worrying about defending myself against my neighbor, but if that was the only bad thing in the midst of so much good, then I’d take it. It was worth it.

After dinner, I watched TV with the kids for a while, and then put them to bed. I read them each a story before kissing them goodnight and tucking them in. The lamp that sat on the table between their beds cast a faint, cozy glow on the room. I told them again that I loved them from the doorway.

I was glad they went to bed early. It gave me a chance to gather up my weapons.

I went through the house looking for anything I could use. I didn’t have much. I had a baseball bat belonging to Ethan. I had knives from the kitchen. I had a golf club that had belonged to my ex-husband. I hoped that would be enough. Actually, I hoped I wouldn’t have to use them at all. I hoped that Bernie would forget all about me and hoped even harder that he would move away. If he didn’t, I would undoubtedly have to. And I didn’t want to leave. That would mean leaving Owen. We were just getting started, and I would hate to have things end that way.

I put the golf club beside my bed. It was lighter and I figured I could swing it more efficiently. Then, I put the baseball bat in the living room, hidden beside the couch. If I had to, I could get to it quickly, and it couldn’t be seen by anyone other than me.

I scattered knives throughout the house, hiding them where no one would be able to see them. I also had to make sure there weren’t any that could be accidentally found by the kids. Each time I hid one, I walked away, and then turned and ran past it, grabbing the knife from its hiding place as I ran by, just to make sure I could do it easily. I hid all the knives but one. I carried it with me from room to room.

I had just finished testing the hiding spot of the last knife when someone knocked on the door.

I peeked through the curtains on the door to see who it was before blindly opening the door. The memory of Bernie trying to force his way in after beating on the door was still fresh in my mind. Opening the door without first looking to see who was on the other side was a lesson learned the hard way, and a mistake I wouldn’t make again.

I opened the door and smiled at Owen, happy that he was finally here. I felt safer and more secure with him in the house.

For a second, I felt silly having hidden weapons all around. Then, I remembered the beer bottle.

31 Owen

My heart fluttered when Carla opened the door. She was even more beautiful than the last time I’d seen her. She jumped forward and threw her arms around my neck.

I pushed her away. Her eyes were wide in confusion. It pained me to think that I’d hurt her feelings, so I quickly asked, “What’s with the knife?”

She looked at the knife she clutched, as if she’d forgotten she held it. She led me into the living room. We sat on the couch as usual and she told me about the beer bottle. She quickly told me about studying self-defense and hiding weapons around the house. I know she was trying to make me feel better, and it did to a point. I felt better knowing she was smart enough to know she needed to do something to protect her and the kids. I felt better knowing that she had acted so quickly. I did not feel better about her living next door to Bernie, though. There was nothing she could do to make me feel better about that.

Except move. I didn’t want her to move.

I tried to act as if I wasn’t too worried about Bernie. I didn’t want to upset her any more than he already had. But in the back of my mind, I was already figuring out what I was going to do about this situation.

While she poured us each a glass of wine, I made my decision. I was going to confront Bernie tomorrow. I wasn’t going to allow him to torment her this way.

Over wine, I told her about the day at Jenson’s. It made her happy to hear that Jenson was nothing more than what he appeared to be. He was just a lonely old man. It made her even happier to know that he was doing so much good for the less fortunate. She admitted that she felt bad for thinking he had anything to do with any of the bad things that had happened. She’d never judged someone before like that, and would be more careful about doing so in the future. I assured her that she’d done nothing wrong.

We talked a little about the three deaths on the street, but before we got too deep into that conversation, her lips were pressed against mine.

“I can’t wait any longer,” she said breathlessly.

She led me upstairs and into her bedroom. I was just as eager as she was, but I didn’t want to seem pushy. I let her lead and pretty soon, it was me who couldn’t wait any longer.

She made love to me as if it were the last time. It crossed my mind that maybe she was afraid it would be the last time. Maybe she had hid her real fear from me just as I had hid mine from her. I hadn’t wanted her to worry any more than she was. What if she’d done the same for me?

I pushed that thought aside and put everything I had into making love to her. After all, in the unfortunate event that she was right, I wanted it to be the most magnificent moment of her life. The moment that would make all other moments seem dull in comparison.

Just in case.

32 Bernie

I dressed in my bar clothes again, taking care to not get my dick caught in the zipper when I fastened my jeans. It was aching severely now. But that was okay. I was getting ready to take care of it. Finally.

I couldn’t remember a time when my dick had hurt this much. In fact, I didn’t think there had ever been a time at all. Usually, I’d either banged someone or did myself by now and got rid of the hard-on. But this one had been with me a couple of days. I was beginning to think maybe I should’ve taken care of it before now. What if it hurt to do her? It didn’t matter. I’d push through the pain. I wasn’t about to blow my chance of banging the broad because my dick hurt. No way. She was going to get it no matter how much it hurt me. Besides, surely once I slipped it to her, the pain would go away.

Now I was worrying that maybe I’d blow my load too soon. What if that happened? What if as soon as I stuck it in her, I came? That would piss me off. I just had to make sure that didn’t happen. Of course, it had happened to me before. But I wouldn’t let it happen this time. No way. Not with this broad. I’d waited too damn long and suffered too damn much to let it end like that. Nope. I was going to have her and it was going to be good.

I’d been thinking of doing this all day. I’d barely slept this evening. I knew I was going to need my strength, so I’d downed a few cold ones and forced myself to go to sleep. Not touching myself had been more of a challenge than falling asleep.

I had no deodorant. I should’ve showered, but hadn’t. I didn’t care. I wasn’t really trying to impress that broad any more. She was throwing hints and signals to every dick on the street, so clearly she didn’t need to be impressed. She’d take it the way it was. Again and again. And she’d like it. She’d beg me for more. And I’d give it to her. I’d waited so long now I could probably give it to her all night long. She’d be begging me to stop before it was over.

I smiled at that. The thought of giving it to her until she begged for mercy made my already engorged manhood ache.

I had to hurry. I couldn’t take much more waiting.

I looked out the front door toward Owen’s house. I hadn’t seen him all day. Maybe he was gone. Or sleeping.

I went into the kitchen and guzzled a few beers from the fridge. I belched as much as I could before leaving my house via the back door. I didn’t want to belch as I was sneaking into her room and let her know I was coming. I wanted it to be a total surprise when I grabbed her and pulled her against me.

Taking a flathead screwdriver from a kitchen drawer, I slipped out my back door and across the lawn. There was no fence separating our yards, so I didn’t need to hop anything. Thank god. I wasn’t in shape at all, unless my protruding belly counted. Had there been a fence or any other obstacle, I would’ve taken the sidewalk right up to her front door.

I walked cautiously to the back door and tried the knob, already knowing it would be locked. I was giving her what she wanted; I was working for it.

I used the screwdriver to pop open the lock. Had the door been new, this wouldn’t have worked. But it was old and the wood gave way easily under the pressure of the screwdriver. It was like it was meant to be.

33 Carla

I lay in Owen’s arms, unable to imagine that there was anywhere else I’d rather be. I was warm. I was safe. And for the time being, I was physically satisfied.

He agreed to stay with me until morning. We had devised a plan that would put him out of the house before the kids saw him. I didn’t think they’d mind him being here in the morning, but I didn’t want to damage them psychologically in any way or ruin their relationship with Owen just as it was starting.

My head rested on his chest, my fingers making slow circles on his belly.

I slid my leg up and over his and remembered that we were both still naked. Aware of this fact, it made me want him again. And I’d have him again before morning. But now, I just needed a little rest. A nap, perhaps to regain some strength.

I exerted a lot of energy with him. Maybe it was because it had been so long since I’d been with anyone. Maybe it was because I was so attracted to him. Not just physically, but in every way. Or maybe it was just that I wanted him so badly. Whatever the reason, I’d put everything I had into our lovemaking, just as I had the last time. I needed a little rest.

I closed my eyes as he stroked my shoulder softly. It wouldn’t be hard to succumb to sleep listening to his heartbeat, his rhythmic breathing...

34 Bernie

I smelled her. The whole house smelled like her. I was wrong. It wasn’t flowery, as I’d assumed it would be. It was more of a sweet scent.

I slowly walked around, looking at her things. She had pictures of her brats hanging on the walls and sitting on tables here and there. Little bastards. I would make it a point to see that they ended up with their dad, wherever the hell he was. He probably couldn’t stand the little bastards, either and had taken off. Who could blame him?

I went into the laundry room and dug through dirty clothes until I found a pair of lacy panties. I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face any more than I could stop the twinge of excitement in my gut or the throb in my pants.

I slowly brought the panties to my nose, closed my eyes, and sniffed.

The smell of her juices sent my heart pounding and my dick throbbing harder than ever. So hard, in fact, it was nearly intolerable.

I reached down and carefully unzipped my jeans. I reached in and pulled it out, which eased the ache, but didn’t get rid of it. When I touched it, I had to fight the urge to do more than just free it from my pants. I had been waiting so long for her. The combination of the wait and the smell of her panties made the temptation almost impossible to resist.

I rubbed the panties on my dick. If I kept on, I’d shoot my wad right here in the laundry room. I had to stop. I waited too long just to get off on a pair of panties, especially when the real thing was so close.

She was right upstairs. In just a minute, I’d have her.

Unable to delay my gratification any longer, I put her panties in my pocket and headed upstairs.

35 Carla

I dreamt of Owen making love to me. It was a vivid dream, and so unlike the way it really was with him. He slid his rough hands down my body and firmly squeezed my buttocks, nearly causing me pain. I liked the squeezing at first, but then it became too rough. Then, he slid his hand in between my legs and his fingers found their way inside me. They wiggled around in a way that was far more pain than pleasure.

I moaned, and then I realized it was unlike Owen in every way. Owen never squeezed anything on my body hard enough to cause me pain. And his hands weren’t rough. His fingers weren’t short and stubby, either.

It was a very real dream. So real, in fact, I became aware that it was a little too real. I slowly opened my eyes, but in the dark, it took them a long time to focus.

“Owen, stop,” I mumbled, moving around a little.

Owen, having dozed off himself, asked in a sleepy voice, “Stop what?”

“Squeezing me. It hurts when you do that. And get your hand out of there.”

Then, I realized that Owen still had one hand on my shoulder, rubbing it lightly again now that he was awake. The other hand was under mine, lying on his chest. It took a second for me to process what was happening. As soon as I realized it, my vision cleared. I became aware of everything at once in perfect clarity.

I felt Owen tense.

36 Bernie

That bitch! I went through the trouble of sneaking into the house and up the stairs only to find her slutty ass in bed with Owen, her twat no doubt dripping with his gunk. I was furious!

I stood there beside her bed, thinking of what I was going to do now. I’d waited so long for this and that damn Owen was in my spot, where I should be.

I tried to calm down and think about the situation. I could feel the blood in my cheeks from the rage I was feeling toward him. I struggled not to give myself away by letting my temper get the best of me. I forced myself to calm down by ignoring Owen and concentrating on the broad.

I’d have to deal with Owen’s ass later. But I’d waited a long time for this, and I would not be denied.

I looked down at my red and swollen aching dick. I was in physical pain. There was no way I could leave here without some sort of satisfaction.

I looked at her lying there, naked from the waist up. I had no doubt she was naked below the waist as well, though the sheet draped across her left me guessing. The thought of being so close to her while she was so vulnerable made my heart pound in my chest.

She was on her left side, pressed against him. This made what I was about to do very difficult. But if I was careful, it would work. It had to work. I couldn’t leave here with this hard-on.

I walked quietly around the bed. I knew I wouldn't have much time before I’d have to deal with Owen, no matter how quiet I was. I wanted her more than ever. It was probably because the smell of sex was thick in the air, reminding me of the smell of her panties. The physical pain caused by my want for her grew more intense by the second. So did my hatred for Owen.

My heart pounded. Beads of sweat appeared on my neck and forehead. My hands trembled slightly. I wasn't scared so much as I was excited. I was so close to touching her...I almost couldn't stand it. I wanted to throw the sheet off of her, roll her over, and do bad things to her. Very bad things. But I had to be calm. I wanted to do as much to her as I could before that damn Owen woke up.

And I had no doubt that he would wake up and ruin everything for me. But with any luck, I wouldn’t walk away without getting something.

I carefully pulled at the sheet that was covering the broad, and slid it slowly down her body, until everything from her knees up was exposed.

I swallowed hard. Staring at her naked body, I saw that it was even better than I’d imagined. The only light in the room was what came in through the window from a streetlight, but it was more than enough for me to see that her body was nearly flawless. Not that it mattered much to me. I wanted her no matter what. And I would have her. It was so close now.

I put my hand lightly to her skin. I wanted desperately to squeeze her tits, but they were hidden from me in the position she was lying. I slid my hand down her side to her ass. I grabbed a handful and squeezed. The feel of her plump cheek in my hand made me want more.

My heart banged in my chest now, and it was an absolute fight to keep my breathing under control. A few beads of sweat dripped off the tip of my nose and fell to the bed. Luckily, they landed on covers and not on the broad.

I put my knees against the side of the bed and my left hand on the wall to steady myself as I leaned farther over the bed. I reluctantly let go of her ass with my right hand and put it between her legs. Her right leg was thrown across Owen, making it easy for me to get to her crotch from the back.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her ass as I felt my way around her crotch. When I felt her warmth, I nearly lost all control of myself. I shuddered and froze, determined not to have an orgasm this way. Not yet. I hadn’t waited this long and suffered this much to finish like this.

I shoved my fingers inside her as deep as I could. I wasn’t gentle in any way. I wanted to be stealthy to prolong this adventure without waking either of them, but it had gotten me so hot, I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t even care anymore if that damn Owen woke up. An animal urge was building in me and I wasn’t sure I could control it. I didn’t really care. All I cared about was what I wanted. And what I wanted was the broad.

I wiggled my fingers around inside her, feeling her warm and sticky juices. She moaned.

Suddenly, my knees buckled. I lurched forward, my hand dropping from the wall to the bed, landing on a pillow. I made a fist, crushing the pillow in my hand.

I gasped.

I released my death grip on the pillow and clutched my dick. I didn’t have to do much. Just a squeeze or two.

I gasped again, louder this time, not caring that I would be heard.

I wiggled my fingers harder as my aching boner finally exploded. It seemed to last forever. I had saved this for her. I couldn’t remember a time when it felt this good to blow my load. It was probably because I’d waited too damn long.

I was dizzy. I kept my eyes closed, enjoying the moment and waiting for the dizziness to pass.

A combination of my sweat and cum soaked into her bed covers now. I looked down at it, trying to focus my eyes. My breathing came and went in raspy huffs.

I became aware now that my fingers weren’t inside her any more. Instead, they lay on the bed, wet with the combination of her and Owen’s juices.

I smiled.

I looked up just in time to see Owen swing a golf club at my head.

37 Carla

I pressed myself as tightly as possible against the headboard. I covered myself with my arms as much as I could and watched as Owen hit Bernie in the head with the golf club.

Bernie, distracted by the disgusting sight of his hand lying on the bed, didn’t see it coming in time to defend himself in any way. The club connected solidly with a thud, and Bernie fell onto the bed, landing in the mess he’d just made. I pulled my legs closer to my chest to avoid being crushed by him.

Owen cussed at Bernie furiously. Seeing that he was unconscious, Owen saw his opportunity. He jerked on his jeans and shoes while asking me if I was okay.

I nodded, though I was pretty sure I wasn’t okay. Not emotionally or psychologically anyway. I’d have to deal with that later, after Bernie was gone.

Owen began dragging Bernie through the house.

As soon as they were out of the room, I jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom. I jumped into a hot shower, scrubbing myself again and again, especially where Bernie had touched me.

Leaving the water running, I got out of the shower and rifled through the cabinets until I found what I was looking for. I needed this. If I was ever going feel clean inside again, I had to douche.

Through tears that seemed endless, I did everything I could to make myself feel as clean as possible. I knew I’d never erase the feeling of Bernie’s fat, stubby, filthy fingers in me, but this was a start.

With shaky hands, I dressed. I ripped the bed covers off the bed and threw them to the floor. I’d burn them in the morning.

But now, I ran downstairs to see if Owen needed me.

38 Jill

I didn’t usually have trouble sleeping. Normally, once my head hit the pillow that was all I knew until morning. But things were different now.

I was still upset that I hadn’t been able to talk to Andy yet. It was always something. Either he wasn’t home or I wasn’t home or one of us was asleep or something. I was frustrated and angry at the situation, but not at either of us. Things happen for a reason. When the time was right, I’d be able to tell him. I had to keep telling myself this so I wouldn’t go rushing into the bedroom screaming at the top of my lungs.

For now, I sat on the front porch in my nightgown sipping ice water and nibbling crackers slowly, hoping I could will my stomach to digest them. I hadn’t been able to keep anything down for a couple of days. Between the lack of food and using all my energy to vomit regularly, I was starting to feel weak.

It was peaceful at this hour. I could see what appeal it had for Owen. It allowed you time to think, to clear your mind and regain your focus without all the daytime distractions.

That is, until the yelling shattered the silence.

I looked to the direction of the disturbance and saw a shirtless Owen throwing Bernie out of Carla’s house.

I immediately knew something wasn’t right. Bernie shouldn’t be inside Carla’s house ever, and certainly not at this time of night. It didn’t take a genius to tell that Owen was furious.

I dropped my cracker and stood quickly, bringing on a bout of dizziness and nausea. I steadied myself against the patio table and waited with my eyes closed for it to pass. This was certainly beginning to annoy me.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw Bernie lying on the sidewalk at the foot of Carla’s steps. Owen was standing over him wearing only jeans and untied shoes.

Bernie seemed to be waking up. Or maybe he was drunk. He was always drunk, so that was probably it.

When Bernie began struggling to stand, I saw Owen tense and assume a fighting stance. No good was going to come of this.

I went inside to wake Andy. I hated to involve him in something like this, whatever it was. But he and Owen were best friends. Owen wouldn’t hesitate to help out Andy. I hated not knowing what I was getting my husband involved in, but I had faith that if it was bad, Owen wouldn’t allow Andy to be in danger. I also had faith that if it was too dangerous, Andy would have sense enough to walk away. If not for his own sake, then for mine.

I shook Andy awake and told him to dress quickly. He didn’t question me. I loved him for reasons such as that.

While he dressed, I told him about Bernie and Owen. He dressed faster. As soon as his last shoe was on, he ran out the front door with me right behind him.

I stayed on the porch for now, and watched as he ran down the steps and across the street, toward the danger.

39 Andy

I ran across the street to where Bernie and Owen stood arguing. I saw a trail of blood running down the side of Bernie’s face.

Owen was shirtless and furious. I’d never seen him look the way he did now. His face was red, his eyes larger than I would’ve thought possible. I saw veins protruding in his neck. He kept his right hand clenched in a fist, as if he may need to strike with it at any second. His breathing was quick. Spit flew from his mouth as he talked.