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-
then
:
"
You
cunt
.
"
I
began
to
grin
.
Sound
carries
well
out
here
,
and
all
the
buzzing
chainsaws
were
fairly
distant
.
Distant
enough
for
me
to
recognize
the
not-so-dulcet
tones
of
my
next-door
neighbor
,
the
renowned
lawyer
and
lakefront-property-owner
,
Brenton
Norton
.
I
moved
down
a
little
closer
to
the
water
,
pretending
to
stroll
toward
the
dock
beached
on
our
breakwater
.
Now
I
could
see
Norton
.
He
was
in
the
clearing
beside
his
screened-in
porch
,
standing
on
a
carpet
of
old
pine
needles
and
dressed
in
paint-spotted
jeans
and
a
white
strappy
T-shirt
.
His
forty-dollar
haircut
was
in
disarray
and
sweat
poured
down
his
face
.
He
was
down
on
one
knee
,
laboring
over
his
own
chainsaw
.
It
was
much
bigger
and
fancier
than
my
little
$
79.95
Value
House
job
.
It
seemed
to
have
everything
,
in
fact
,
but
a
starter
button
.
He
was
yanking
a
cord
,
producing
the
listless
whut-whut-whut
sounds
and
nothing
more
.
I
was
gladdened
in
my
heart
to
see
that
a
yellow
birch
had
fallen
across
his
picnic
table
and
smashed
it
in
two
.
Norton
gave
a
tremendous
yank
on
the
starter
cord
Whut-whut-whutwhutwhut-WHAT
!
WHAT
!
WHAT
!
...
WHAT
!
...
Whut
.
Almost
had
it
there
for
a
minute
,
fella
.
Another
Herculean
tug
.
Whut-whut-whut
.
"
Cocksucker
,
"
Norton
whispered
fiercely
,
and
bared
his
teeth
at
his
fancy
chainsaw
.
I
went
back
around
the
house
,
feeling
really
good
for
the
first
time
since
I
got
up
.
My
own
saw
started
on
the
first
tug
,
and
I
went
to
work
.
