He wanted me to come out. I crawled to a window in the trophy room, following Papas's legs. He held the curtains apart an inch for me.
“What they doin'?” he asked.
I could just see figures moving near the line of cars. The bonfire had gone down and it was hard to make out anything. I didn't know what they were doing. It looked as though they were carrying buckets of something somewhere. That didn't make any sense. I heard the sound of the gasoline pump working. They were carrying gas.
“Damned if I know,” I said.
I heard the sound of a bucket hitting the ground. Then two men lit torches at the fire.
The bartender spoke from his window: “They're goin' to try that again.”
“Under cover of the car,” I said.
“Is good idea,” Gus Papas said.
We got ready to let them have it. I thought we could stop them. They'd have to come out from behind the car to throw the torches, and we could wing 'em. I saw one man get in the driver's seat. It was queer; the men with the torches were ahead of the car, not behind it. I heard the starter, and then the car began to move. It was pointed right for the front door. I heard the motor race.
“What the hell,” the bartender said.
Suddenly the car jumped ahead; the driver leaped out; the two men threw their torches at the moving car; it burst into flames, picking up speed as it came at us. The car was soaked in gasoline.
“Jesus!” I said. “And it's my car, too.”
It came at us in second gear, moving fast enough to make the flames roar. The fire shot fifty feet in the air, thick and yellow. The car was still picking up speed. I heard the sound of the tommy-guns, but right then I didn't give a damn. I wanted to leave. I got up and ran to Papas's office.
I must have looked wild. They stared at me. “Come on,” I yelled at them. “We got to get out.”
I grabbed Ginger's hand and we ran for the screened porch. They followed. I never saw Gus Papas or the bartender. Just as we reached the porch the car hit the front door with a crash. There was a burst of flames, a hot wind, and an explosion that knocked us to the floor. J lost Ginger's hand. For a second I lay flat, listening to the crackle of flames. I knew I had to get up, but I couldn't. I made myself get up. I got Ginger to her feet. She was dazed. I didn't look for the others. “Follow me,” I told Ginger.
I didn't see a door so I went right through the screen, hitting it doubled up. A whole section of screen came loose. I landed on my hands and knees. Ginger stepped through after me. I got up and we ran for the lake. The whole sky was light with the flames. There was still shooting out in front. I ran into the lake, the water sloshing around my ankles, and got hold of a rowboat. I lifted Ginger in, and got in myself. I put the oars in the locks and rowed away from shore. I couldn't make any speed. It was like rowing in a dream. I rowed like hell and we barely moved. I was scared for the first time. Then I saw what the trouble was. I went by Ginger to the bow, and pulled up the anchor. I rowed into the shadow of some willow trees, and then I rested.
“A nice quiet evening,” Ginger said.
We looked at the cabin. The flames were on the roof now, and over one whole side. Against the purple sky I saw a big cloud of black smoke. I didn't hear any shooting. The cabin was a goner; all the fire departments in the world couldn't save it. I couldn't see anyone, not even on the shore. I wondered if Winnie and the others had got out.
It was very still on the lake. The rowboat did not move at all. I could see Ginger's face and hands in the light of the burning cabin. Her hair glowed from the reflected light. She looked beautiful and mysterious.
“What do we do now?” she asked.
I moved to her seat. “I'll show you,” I said. I swung her across my knees and kissed her. She fought. She jerked away and slapped my face, and when I held her hands she bit my wrist.
I let her sit up. She pulled down her skirt and straightened her dress.
“You're quite a cave man.”
I felt the blood on my wrist. “You have a bad effect on me, baby.”
“I think all gals do.”
“Not like you, baby.”
I went back to the oars. I sucked the blood from my wrist and then I began to row across the lake. I thought it would be a good idea if we got the hell out of the neighbourhood. Maybe we could pick up a ride on the main road. There would be trucks.
“Are you sore?” Ginger asked.
“No.”
“Next time, ask.”
“It's more fun the other way,” I said, rowing.
“The jails are full of guys who think that,” Ginger said.
The lake was only about half a mile wide. I benched the boat in the mud and carried Ginger to the shore. We walked across a field to a dirt road and down it to the main highway. In the distance I saw the red glow that was Gus Papas's cabin. We stood on the side of the road to wait for a lift. There were crickets under the trees.
“How'd you mix up with Banta?” I asked.
“I was broke, needed a job.”
