To Probe A Beating Heart by John B Wren Page B

animals stop moving. Some other things were more dangerous for the animal. He was in the process of removing the cat’s left front leg when it seemed to stop moving, stop resisting, stop being interesting. He took a probe and positioned it for a thrust into the heart.              
                  “No, no, an easy push, just make sure it’s not pretending to be dead,” said Stelian, as if this were an operation.
                  “Yeah, you’re right” replied Averell. And he gently pushed the probe into the cat’s chest but not all the way to its heart. That made the cat screech and the game was back on. He continued with the leg removal.
                  “See,” said Stelian, “I can help.”
                  “Yeah, sometimes,” replied Averell.
                  “Remember the key, I helped then too,” said Stelian.
                  “I guess.”
                  Averell had the leg almost all the way off when he heard someone
    moving in the woods. He had to silence the cat, now. He made a fast final cut at the leg, pulled it off and quickly placed the knife at the cat’s throat. Another fast cut and the cat went completely limp. There was not enough time to put out the fire and put his things away. He had to act fast. He quickly dumped the cat out of the cage and gathered up his tools and put them in the tree. Then he grabbed the cat by its tail and the loose leg and darted into the bushes. He crept quietly in the direction away from the camp site until he heard voices.
                  “Yeah, someone was here alright, Will. The fire is still going.” said the first man.
                  “Yeah Chuck, sounded like whoever it was, was strangling a cat” said the second man.
                  “Probably those punk kids that hang out here and smoke and drink beer,” said the first man.
                  “We probably scared the little bastards off, said the other, we ought to put this fire out and keep an eye on these woods for a while, see who’s been comin’ in here.”
                  “Probably, yeah, we’ll do that, I got a good line of sight from my front porch. We can sit there with your binoculars and watch.”
                  “Maybe have a beer or two of our own, ha ha.”
                  They kicked dirt on the fire, smothering it and started to walk out of the woods.
                  Averell was well ahead of them and moved quietly out in front of them. He headed down the street in the direction that he knew the older boys had come from the other day and dumped the cat in a garbage container that had been put out for collection in the morning. He continued in the same direction and walked all the way around the block to his house to avoid the two men. He walked in the side door, not hiding from Ellie. It was still early for a Saturday night, well before ten. He quietly went to the bathroom, washed his hands and then to his bedroom. He went to the window and looked out at the sky. No clouds, lots of stars. He was looking at the moon and he said quietly, “Safe, I’m home and safe.”
                  “Yeah, safe,” agreed Stelian.
    He laid on the bed for a few minutes then got up and walked over
    to the corner. He squatted in the corner with his back touching the two
    walls picked up his book on squirrels and mumbled, “Safe, damn it,” and he started to read.
                  “Damn it,” repeated Stelian.
                  The next night well before dark, he rode his bicycle past the woods and in the direction of the house where he had dumped the cat. Directly across the street he saw two men sitting on a porch drinking beer and looking around the neighborhood with binoculars.
                  “Hey, kid, come here” said Chuck, the first man from the