Cry of Angels

4

4 "COME ON, EM, SOMEBODY'S GOING TO CALL THE LAW!" THE INdian tore loose from my grip and hurled himself back at the squeaking fence. In the glare of streetlight on the other side, the big collie dog was frenzied with fury, fangs bared, climbing the wire. Jojohn howled back at him, waving his arms, the great blubbery face taunting , tormenting. The dog leaped to bite and Jojohn reached over the fence, grabbing for the bristling neck. The collie snapped for the extended hand and the Indian snagged his collar and lifted high the startled animal, swinging around and holding him firmly at arm's length. "Let him go, Em! Turn him loose!" I pushed and shoved and pleaded, but it did no good. He stood watching the dog plunge and kick, snorting for breath in the strangling collar. Lights came on in the house and the Simmons woman came running. She beat at him with a rolled newspaper, "Put him down! You put Sonny down this minute or I'll call the po-lice, you crazy . . ." With a sudden twist of his body Em hurled the big dog against the side of a passing truck. 46 B O O K O N E The truck slowed down, the perplexed driver looking around. The yelping animal scrambled to his feet and disappeared over the hill full stretch, shaggy coat heaving, not looking back. I got Em pulled away and turned into the rutted clay of Sunflower Street. The Simmons woman was still screaming, following us along the wire. The porchlight came on at the boardinghouse, two houses down, and boarders were crowding to the rail. As we approached the house, Em turned and started straight for the front yard. "No, Em, come on around this way." He shook me off and tried again for the steps. Miss Esther pushed through the boarders and leaned over the banister, waving us off. "No, no, not up here! Take him away, take him on around!" Em stopped before them, wavering, uncertain. I shouldered him off the steps. He stumbled to the corner of the porch and stopped to catch his breath. With a foot braced against the bricks I got him pushed away and moving again. He staggered, tripped over the spigot and we both went down the bank. "As long as there are drunks, there'll be little boys to lead them home," said Mrs. Porter. "It's a pity." "Come on, Em, get up." I pulled on his arm and he rolled over with a groan and got to his knees. "Come on, get up from there!" He struggled to his feet and jerked away. I reached for him again and he put a hand against my face and shoved me into the hedge. "My God, somebody do something!" It was Owen's voice. "Keep away," said Mr. Rampey. "When he's like that, can't nobody handle him but the boy." With the blood hot on my face I scrambled out of the prickly hedge and rammed him hard as I could from the rear. He lurched, then suddenly whirled and lifted me high in the air. Beneath me those wet black eyes glistened in the porchlight. The quivering fingers sank deeper and deeper in my ribs. I was fighting for breath. "Em," I gasped, "for God's sake!" He dropped me and turned away. I got to my feet and held my aching ribs. "Come on. All right, come on now." I took his arm gently, and he let me lead him around the hedge to the garage in the woods. 47 A C R Y O F A N G E L S When I returned to the boardinghouse Gwen was in the hall with the others. She looked a little pale. "Well, he seemed dangerous to me," she was saying. "Earl, are you all right?" "Fine," I said, trying to smile. I coughed and felt a sharp pain in my side, and wondered if Em had cracked a rib. He had never hurt me during those spells, but he was coming closer. I brushed past everybody and climbed to my room. "Aw, he gets on a tear like that every time he comes home," said Miss Esther. "I don't pay no attention to it." "Well, I don't know why you even put up with it. He's liable to hurt somebody," Gwen...