'W-Well…' She bobbed her head jerkily. 'All right, Lennie
'Didn't you?'
'No, I didn't! How many times do I have to tell you?'
Myra laughed, a mean scary laugh that even made me shiver. She said that Rose didn't have to tell her any times, because a lie didn't gain anything by repetition.
'Lennie's telling the truth, dear. He doesn't have the imagination to make up a story like that.'
'B-But-but-'
'And you don't have the imagination either. You couldn't have invented the story, any more than he could. Which means-well, I don't know how you found out, but you obviously did. And that's the important thing, isn't it? That and making sure that you don't do any talking to anyone else.'
Rose stared at her, slowly shaking her head, her voice a harsh sickish whisper. 'I-I d-don't believe you. Y-You and Lennie. I
The fact was, I was pretty shocked myself. Because I'd guessed the truth; I'd been pretty sure of it. But that wasn't nowhere near the same as knowin' it.
'I don't believe you,' Rose repeated shakily. 'Why-why would you-'
'Oh, stop pretending,' Myra said. 'You found out about us, and you were foolish enough to tell Lennie. As for the why of things, you're going to find that out, too, and very shortly. That is, of course, if you're similarly attracted to him.'
She motioned to Lennie. He fastened the camera around her neck with a strap, and she fiddled with the settings for a minute, getting it like she wanted. Then he poured powder into the flashstick from a can in his pocket, and carefully handed it to her.
Rose stood staring at them.
Myra let out another one of her mean-scary laughs. 'Don't worry about your picture, dear. I'm really quite professional with a camera. In fact, I made quite a bit of money that way before I was married, quite a bit. You'd be surprised at the sums people paid me for certain pictures that I took of them.'
Rose shook her head, seeming to shake off her fear for the moment. She said that Myra was going to get a surprise if she didn't drag her ass out of there.
'Now, beat it, you baggy old bitch! Take your buggy boy friend and clear out of here before I forget I'm a lady!'
'In a moment, dear. Just as soon as I take your picture-with Lennie.'
'Take my picture! Why, goddam you-'
'Mmm-hmm, take your picture. With Lennie. It'll be much safer than killing you, and every bit as effective at keeping you quiet, and-
Lennie's hand darted out before Rose could move. It caught in the front of her dress and ripped downward, taking the underclothes along with the dress. Before you could blink an eye, she was standing in a puddle of rags, naked as a baby jay.
Lennie burbled and choked on his own spit, and about a pint more spilled over his chin. Myra gave him a lovin' look.
'She looks very good, doesn't she, darling? Why don't you see if she really is?'
'Guh, guh-' Lennie hesitated doubtfully. 'Maybe she hurt me?'
'Now, of course she won't hurt you,' Myra laughed. 'You're big and she's little, and anyway I'm here to protect you.'
'Guh, guh-' Lennie still hesitated. He'd ripped Rose's clothes off, but just doing that, just the one quick grab, didn't take much guts. He wasn't quite ready to go the rest of the way, even with Myra to nerve him up and tell him it was okay. 'W-What- how I do it, Myra?'
'Just grab her and throw her down,' Myra said, and then, sharply, forcing him to obey before he could think, '
Rose had been standin' sort of stunned since her clothes were ripped off. Glazed-eyed, too stupefied even to try to cover herself.
But then Lennie grabbed, hugging her to him, slobbering over her, and everything was changed. She came to life like a turpentined bobcat, screaming, clawing, kicking and pounding. Lennie got hit and clawed in about a dozen places at the same time, not to mention a kneein' in his crotch and a kicking on his shins.
He fell away from her, blubbering and clutching himself. Rose darted into the bedroom and shammed the door, and Myra hauled off and kicked Lennie in the tail.
'You big boob, go after her! Break the door down!'
'I'm a-scairt,' Lennie whined. 'She hurt me!'
'I'll hurt you a hot worse!' Myra twisted his ear by way of demonstration. 'I'll beat you black and blue if you don't do what I tell you.
Lennie began to shoulder the door. Myra stood right behind him, urging him on, telling him what would happen if he didn't mind her.
The lock gave. The door banged open, Lennie following it with his rush and Myra following him. And…
And so I reckon I never will know what was in Myra's mind. Or what wasn't in it. Whether she'd forgot about that pistol she'd helped Rose buy, or whether she thought that Rose wouldn't dare use it. Or whether she was so danged mad and determined to put Rose in a fix that she just wasn't thinking.
No, sir, I'll never know what she thought or didn't think. Because just about a second after the bedroom door busted open, she and Lennie were dead.
They came stumbling backward into the living room when Rose started shooting, falling over each other, going down to the floor together in a tangled heap. They were already dead then, I reckon, but Rose kept on firing-like she was shooting fish in a barrel-until the gun was empty.
I climbed in the buggy and started for town, ponderin' over the strange workings of Providence. What I'd really sort of figured on was that Myra would kill Rose, and then Myra and Lennie would have to skip town, because I would be absolutely impartial even if they were sort of kinfolks and I'd do my dangdest to see that they were punished even if I had to shoot 'em while they were trying to escape. Which would probably be the best way of winding things up.
But this would be all right, I reckoned. It would work out just as well with Rose killin' Myra and Lennie.
I put the horse and buggy in the livery stable, listening to the hostler snore away in the hayloft. I went back across town to the courthouse, and everyone was long-gone in bed of course and it was like there wasn't no one on the earth but me.
I went upstairs to the living quarters, and drew the shades down tight. Then, I lit a lamp and got myself a cup of cold coffee from the stove, and eased down on the lounge to drink it.
I finished it, and carried the cup back into the kitchen. I toed my boots off and stretched out on the lounge to rest. And the downstairs door slammed open and Rose came pounding up the steps and busted in on me.
She'd run all the way into town on foot, I reckon, and she was wild-eyed and crazy-hookin'. She sagged against the door, heaving for breath, pointing a shaking accusin' finger at me. It was all she could do for a moment, just point.
I said howdy-do to her, and then I said it was all right, me and her bein' friends, but it really wasn't polite to point at people.
'I thought you ought to know that,' I said. 'It not only ain't polite, but you might poke someone in the eye.'
