MORMO STEPS IN

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Docker and Mist's heart-to-heart turns ugly. She gets an unexpected ally.  Well, two actually.

"Damn!  I told you.  Nothing's going on.  You're bugging me with your bullshit," he said, bouncing his leg.

            "Stop doing that if you want me to sit here.  You drop a lot of speed?"

            "Oh, she changes the subject.  Good.  Had loads of work to do, kiddo, before the ground freezes."  He brushed a strand from my cheek.  "So what were we talking about besides you thinking I'm some big bad guy?  How can I prove to you I'm not into anything except you, baby," he sighed, eyes hypnotic, locked on mine.

            "Spend more time with me, then,"  I said, "I thought that was why you wanted me to come with you, to be alone with you.  As long as I'm not, why do your friends ignore me?  They treat me like I'm invisible."

            "I know you aren't, baby.  Isn't that what counts?"  He squeezed my thigh, moved his hand to the front pocket of my jeans where I carried No-Face's mirror in case I ran into her.  "What's this?" he said, probing it through the fabric.

            "It's nothing."  We stood up.

            "Come on!  Let me see.  If it's nothing, let me see.  Why're you hiding it from me?"

            "I'm not hiding it!"  Holding me tightly, he jammed his fingers into my pocket as I struggled to get away, and pulled out the mirror. 

            "How did you get this?"  Holding it an inch from my face, he pushed me backwards.  "How did you get this?"  My mind went blank.

            "Someone must have dropped it," I blurted, afraid to blink, afraid I'd say the wrong thing.  "I found it, but I don't know who it belongs to or I'd return it." 

            "Why didn't you ask me?"

            "I don't know, all right!"  Docker slipped the mirror into his shirt pocket, holding me with one arm. 

            "It's No-Face's.  I'll see she gets it."  To diffuse the moment, I asked him how she got that name.  She had put me off the other day when she'd cornered me by the creek and scared me with her paranoid bullshit.  Sitting on a stool with one foot on the floor and the heel of his boot hooked on a rung, he drew me towards him.  Sighing deeply, he looked to the far wall.

            "She was going out with bro Waverly," he explained, "He came by on a date and she told him he'd have to wait till she put her face on.  He called her 'No-Face' from then on.  It stuck.  Anyway, I'll get her mirror to her."  I knew better than to ask what happened to his brother; still, I could have kicked myself for what came out of my mouth instead.

            "I bet you will.  I've seen you two together."

            "Whoa!  Do I detect a note of jealousy there, babe?  Nothing's going on between us.  She wants to fuck me, but it's not reciprocal.  What can I say?  Anyway," he released his words in a long exhale, "Go on, let it all hang out.  So you feel like you're invisible, and?-"  I took a deep breath.

            "People talk about other stuff that makes me feel like you're into something really bad, besides my so-called nightmare."

            "Tell Daddy everything.  It's okay."  He ran a finger alongside my ear, traced my jawline.  I had sworn to Linda I wouldn't tell.  So I lied. 

            "That first night we were here, I slept outside, you know, 'cause the kids were on one mattress and Linda and Pal- .Anyway, I found some blankets.  It was nice waking up underneath the trees."

            "Go on."  He kissed my cheek.

            "It was a little cold," I went on, allowing myself to nestle against his chest, recalling that, though warned against it, he didn't go ballistic when I told him what Sandman and Hairball did to the boys.  "Hard to sleep.  I heard some of the others talking.  They said that once, when you were up here during a bliz--"

            The blow came, slamming me against the wall.  I felt myself crumpling to the floor.  Multiple Dockers hovered over me.  It seemed as though I were looking at everything through a red filter and someone was working a pile-driver inside my skull.  I shook my head to clear it and saw Docker suddenly rise into the air and sail backwards.  Mormo had come in, had come up behind him, lifted him by his armpits and deposited him in his chair, like a mom putting her kid in a high-chair.   

            "You fucking shit."  I  clenched my teeth so hard they ground together. "Why did you hit me?"  My right hip and shoulder ached; I felt tears streaming down my face.

            "Leave her alone.  Don't hurt her," Mormo grunted.

            "You're soft on the lady, eh?"  Docker made to rise.  The big man held his boss down.  Pal burst in, waving his gun at Mormo.

            "Say the word, Boss, and he's gone!"  He laughed, swiveling around and aiming his gun at Mormo, then me.  Linda, right behind Pal, hustled over and knelt at my side.

"Shoot me.  Go ahead," she said, "If you're gonna shoot anybody, shoot me!"  Pal held the gun with both hands, elbows locked, knees bent.

"Stash the gun, man," Docker said, moving his shoulders.  Mormo released his grip.  Linda put her arms around me.  I caught the odor of decomposing sea life and stale semen from the neck of her blouse and choked back the urge to vomit.  Docker stretched out his legs, folded his arms across his chest, "Ain't we all a nice happy family."

Next:  Mist has had it.  She resolves to leave.  Docker verbally and physically convinces her to stay.