Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/259

 "Let me go," screamed Gaylord.

"Sit down here and let me talk to you," Blake demanded.

"You can't boss me like you do everybody else. I don't want to talk to you," he shouted through tears and let go another whip-like flash across Blake's cheek.

Blake released his grip. He looked as if he had seen a two-headed giant. Gaylord sprang for the door.

"Damn you … come back here," Blake shouted. "You're not getting out of here that easy," Blake grabbed and dragged the sobbing boy back. "There," he said, letting his hand fall on Gaylord's check with lightning force. "How do you like it?"

Gaylord uttered a shrill cry of pain and tried for the door again.

"Go on," Blake laughed loud, "go on get out of here … I won't try to hold ya." He pushed Gaylord closer to the open door. "If you want to go … go."

"You're damn right I'm going," Gaylord sobbed and slammed the door after him.

"And don't come back," cried Blake.

There was only slush, ankle deep and with biting rocks, ahead of him now. There were only the rain gusts stinging his eyelids, only the cold ache in his fingers and the deathache in his heart. He was running, crying, stumbling down the rough water filled ruts of the gravel road. "I hate him," he sobbed, knowing he didn't at all … "I hate everything … I wish I were dead." And he was sincere.

He heard dimly the muffled voice of Blake calling, swearing. It came through the darkness pistol-shot clear. He ran on, looking neither to the right or the left, while the rain clung to his hair and flattened his shirt and trousers. He ran faster, and as he ran his lips moved in prayer. A strange rhapsodic prayer of his own invention.

"Oh … God … everything's over … finished now. Take back this life you gave me. Do not ask me to go on living. I can't bear any more. You could have made me different … Why didn't you … why did you make me fall in love with Bob? But no … you let me love him … knowing all the time it was all wrong … and now I've lost him … he's gone … gone forever, and there's nothing left to live for … strike me dead … lightning come down and rid me of this anguish, this torture."