'Kiss my hairy white ass.'
He was facing in the wrong direction to give him a snootful of pepper spray, so I reached into my Levi's and pulled out the stun gun. I'd never used it, but it didn't seem complicated. I leaned forward, firmly pressed the gadget against Eugene's butt, and hit the go button. Eugene gave a short squeak and crumpled to the floor like a sack of flour.
'My God,' Kitty cried, 'what have you done?'
I looked down at Eugene, who was lying motionless, eyes glazed, drawers at his knees. He was breathing a little shallowly, but I thought that was to be expected from a man who'd just taken enough juice to light up a small room. His color was pasty white, so nothing had changed there. 'Stun gun,' I said. 'According to the brochure it leaves no lasting damage.'
'Too bad. I was hoping you'd killed him.'
'Maybe you should fix his pants,' I said to Kitty. There was already too much ugliness in this world without my having to look at Eugene's Mr. Droopy.
When she had him zipped up I prodded him with the toe of my shoe and got minimal response. 'Probably it'd be best if we get him out to my car before he comes around.'
'How're we gonna do that?' she asked.
'Guess we'll have to drag him.'
'No way. I don't want no part of this. Lordy, this is terrible. He'll beat the daylights out of me for this.'
'He can't beat you if he's in jail.'
'He'll beat me when he gets out.'
'If you're still here.'
Eugene made a feeble attempt to move his mouth, and Kitty yelped. 'He's gonna get up!
Do something!'
I didn't really want to give him any more volts. Didn't think it would look good if I hauled him into court with his hair curled. So I grabbed him by the ankles and tugged toward the door.
Kitty raced upstairs and I assumed, from the sounds of drawers being wrenched open, she was packing.
I managed to get Eugene out of the house and onto the sidewalk next to the Buick, but there was no way I was going to get Eugene into the car without some help. I could see Kitty assembling suitcases and tote bags in the front room. 'Hey, Kitty,' I yelled, 'I need a hand here.'
She peeked out the open door. 'What's the problem?'
'Can't get him into the car.'
She chewed on her lower lip. 'Is he awake?'
'There are all kinds of awake. This kind of awake isn't nearly so awake as some other kinds.'
She inched forward. 'His eyes are open.'
'True, but the pupils are mostly rolled up behind his lids. I don't imagine he can see much like that.'
In response to our conversation, Eugene had begun ineffectually flailing his legs. Kitty and I each took an arm and hoisted him to shoulder level.
'This would be easier if you'd parked closer,' Kitty said, breathing heavily. 'You practically parked in the middle of the street.'
I steadied myself under the burden. 'I can only park on the curb when there's a parking meter to aim for.'
We gave a joint heave and slammed up against the rear quarter panel with rubber-limbed Eugene. We shoved him into the backseat and cuffed him to the sissy bar, where he hung like a sandbag.
'What will you do?' I asked Kitty. 'Do you have someplace to go?'
