Gifts and Consequences by Daniel Coleman Page A

baseball swing with the staff aimed directly at Allen’s face.  Allen flinched and closed his eyes, expecting to be on the other side when he opened them. 
    No pain.  No crushing of his skull.  He opened his eyes, half expecting to see angels or a light at the end of a tunnel, but only the pale moonlight greeted him.  George held his staff an inch in front of Allen’s face, waiting for him to notice it.
    “On second thought,” said George, “we’re fair folk.  We should let the punishment fit the crime.”
    He handed his stick to Spider and folded the belt in Allen’s view.  After snapping it like a father intimidating a child before a swat, he laid into Allen.  If it would have been the staff Allen wouldn’t have survived the first couple blows.  The pain was severe, and though Allen cringed behind upraised arms, it was pain he could survive. 
    I made the right choice , he told himself even as the blows rained down.  Eventually the attack stopped and Allen thought, No new broken bones.   I’m going to survive this.  I’m going to make it back to Detroit.  Back to Yvonne.  His entire body stung, throbbed, and ached. 
    Spider’s giggling was out of place in the dark night of violence.  Squirming in the shadows he looked like an evil stork.  He was eyeing Allen’s pants.  “Can I have his pants, George?  They’re Dickies.  And they look clean.” 
    George considered the request, annoyed.  “Those will never fit you, Spider.  You have no ass.”
    “It’s OK.”  Spider seemed excited that George was even considering it.  “Besides, he won’t be able to get away.  He’ll be too embarrassed to walk away.  Cause he won’t have pants on.”
    “Fine, take ‘em.” 
    Spider clenched one fist and clapped his hands before retrieving the pants.
    The pair said no more as they tied Allen to the tree using the belt and the bungees.  The last bungee was used to bind his ankles.  George found the small roll of duct tape and used most of it to secure Allen’s wrists behind the tree, then reinforced the ankle tie. 
    George pulled Allen’s sweaty socks off, folded them deliberately and forced them into Allen’s mouth.  He used the last of the duct tape to cover Allen’s mouth and tape his head to the tree.
    With his head pulled back, mouth stretched open and the overwhelming odor, Allen had to concentrate to get enough air.
    George nodded and said, “Pleasure doing business with you.”
    Spider, still shifting nervously, added, “Yeah, and may God have mercy on your soul.” 
    He looked at George for approval, but his companion just scooped up Allen’s belongings and faded into the darkness.  Spider skittered after him, leaving Allen stripped, wounded, and half dead.
    In his secluded location in the copse of mesquite trees, Allen had no hope of rescue from a passing Good Samaritan.
     

 
Chapter Eighteen
     
     
    Jonathan drove home from the hospital to where his wife did not await him, did not even realize he was not there.  He used to savor his time at home.  Islands of calm in the raging storm of his schedule.
    Dinner at home with Susan had always been the highlight.  One night Susan told him she had the cook prepare a special meal for the fifteen-year anniversary of their first date.  The best china was laid out and they even dressed up.  The wine was a special vintage, selected especially for the occasion. 
    The cook presented trays with silver platter covers.  Jonathan had never been as anxious or curious about a meal at home.  In unison they lifted the platter covers to reveal Kraft macaroni and cheese, their old college staple.  
    He burst out laughing, and the two enjoyed one of the most memorable meals of their marriage. 
    When he arrived home, Jonathan went straight for the stairway that led to Susan’s room.  As he climbed the stairs he heard voices and wondered if Susan had made a rare excursion from her room.  He soon realized that the source of the