BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 257
Assuming that was done as a pity ploy, and probably to get me mad enough to
kick the shit out of it, I ignored the whole thing. Instead, I had an idea. “You wait right
here. I‟ll be back in a minute.”
I went upstairs and got my .12 gauge shotgun and one shell, #6 birdshot, then
came back down. I handed that David thing the shotgun and held out the shell.
“Go out behind the barn,” I instructed, “and be sure you‟re facing the barn when
you do it. I don‟t want all that shit on the back wall where I‟ll have to scrub it off. Blow
your fuckin‟ brains out by putting this end in your mouth and pulling the trigger. I‟ll use
the backhoe to bury your sorry ass, and I‟ll tell Mom you decided to move to California
and start over.” I again foisted the shell at it.
“You really want me to kill myself, don‟t you?”
“It‟d be one goddamned good way to make you stop all that fuckin‟ whining I‟ve
listened to since you were born. C‟mon, asshole, don‟t just talk about it, do it! You have
a shotgun and one shell, which is all you‟ll need. If you want to commit suicide, I say go
for it.”
That David thing just looked at me for a while, incomprehensive. Unable to
fathom what I‟d said. That I meant it. Finally, setting the shotgun aside, “I can‟t.”
“Wow! There‟s a big fuckin‟ surprise.”
“You‟d let me do it, wouldn‟t you?”
“In a fuckin‟ heartbeat. Yup, I would.” I pointed to the gun. “There it is. Go out
behind the barn and all your troubles will soon be over.”
“You‟d probably like that, wouldn‟t you?”
“Doesn‟t sound like all that bad an idea to me.”
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