Chester draped his arm around Barb’s waist. She’d gained a few pounds in the eight years since they’d last been together, but no matter. He liked the feel of his right side nestled into her left. They talked and laughed, walking down Sansom Street. It reminded him of Florence, really, that summer of ’31 before either of them had gotten married.
They crossed the corner of 39th Street. Chester looked down the alleyway and saw two shadows, clustered together in the distance at the foot of a brick wall. Two lovers, no doubt, sharing an intimate moment they thought was private. Well, Chester thought to himself, I’ll give it to them –
But no, the man was pulling his arm back and then struck the woman in the face. And she wasn’t caressing him back, she was struggling, struggling for life itself. Chester broke free from Barb and ran toward them.
Chester bored his eyes into the man. He raced at top speed directly to him. “Stop this! Stop this right now! You leave that woman alone!”
He reached the couple and tore the man off the woman. The man smelled of urine and vodka. A large man, but very soft around the middle – unlike Chester’s lean-muscled physique. The man let out an ogre’s groan and then Chester felt an electric gash in his stomach. Chester let out a scream and grabbed the knife out of the man’s hand before he could take a second swipe – and made a bullseye with it in the man’s heart. He let out a blood-curdling cry and collapsed onto the pavement.
So fast, yet so long. Chester felt sharp pains in his abdomen. Barb came up to them, shaking all over. “Chester, Chester … are you all right?”
“You’d better go, Barb. No one can find out you were here. Go!”
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