Chapter 2

2: 2

Aunt Marlene finished shouting, then grabbed a stick and started smashing first.

My favorite dishes were shards of porcelain on the floor in no time.

The cans and food pouches I'd bought for Tiger disappeared into Aunt Marlene's pockets.

Her narrow eyes glittered. She said she was looking for an ID card, but she was really hunting for anything worth taking.

The other villagers followed her lead, either breaking things or slipping items into their clothes.

I meant to stop them, but they moved through the house like a swarm of locusts, greedy and merciless, so I stepped back into an empty corner and stood quietly.

Smash it, steal it. Whatever I lose today, I'll get every piece back once I call the police.

I stood in the corner where nothing would reach me and watched, cold-eyed.

Aunt Marlene tore through my things, and worst of all my carefully painted scrolls, unrolling them one by one, dropping them on the floor, trampling them at will.

I could stop caring about possessions. Broken things can be bought again.

But my paintings were my life's work.

"Stop!"

"You broke into my home. Stealing, smashing. That's a crime already!"

"If you don't stop, and I press charges, it won't just be paying me back. You'll go to jail!"

The villagers rummaging around froze on the spot.

They were ignorant and vicious, and gutless too.

They bullied the weak, but faced with the law they pulled their necks in, meek and pitiful.

In my last life they beat me crippled, then knelt at my bedside terrified, old and young alike, weeping until they were a mess, begging me not to press charges. I softened. I agreed.

And then they bared their fangs and let me die in that bed, in agony, degree by degree.

Remembering those days, crying out to a heaven that never answered, that despair and pain, my eyes darkened. I warned them:

"There are cameras in this house. Whoever took something, whoever smashed something, it's all right there!"

"None of you can deny it!"

One villager dug into his pocket at once, ready to put back the pair of solid silver cups I loved.

But Aunt Marlene, the one leading them, suddenly gave a cold laugh and jabbed a finger at my face. "You did a filthy thing, you violated a woman of this village, and you've still got the nerve to order us around?"

"Let me tell you, today we're not just smashing your things. If we beat you to death, that's ridding the people of a menace!"

"We're not scared of the police coming either!"

That was what her mouth said, but her eyes were rolling, and she quickly spotted the camera I'd mounted high in the corner. She dragged a table over, climbed up, and knocked the camera out with two blows.

She planted her hands on her hips, pleased with herself. "What camera? There's no camera. All this broken stuff, you did it yourself, resisting arrest."

Hearing that, the other villagers tucked the items back into their clothes with clear consciences.

A few even grabbed a couple more things while they were at it.

Aunt Marlene jumped down from the table. "A few of you, tie that Floyd guy up! A man who does something lower than an animal, he should be dragged to Stella Pruitt's to kneel and confess!"

That was when I finally understood why they'd come.

I was stunned. "You've got the wrong man. I didn't even leave the house today."

"You say you didn't leave the house. Then where's your cat?"

"Tiger? Tiger's in the house..."

I said it while looking around, but there was no sign of Tiger anywhere. And I finally understood the wrongness that had prickled at me during the smashing. Tiger hadn't reacted.

As close as Tiger and I were, if someone bullied me, even a fight he couldn't win, he'd have thrown himself out and scratched twice.

I started to panic. Nothing could have happened to Tiger, could it?

I was about to push through the villagers to find my cat when Aunt Marlene suddenly bellowed, "That Floyd guy's going to hit somebody and run! Quick, grab him!"

Hands reached for me from every side.

Pinching me, pounding me, hitting me.

The agony of my last life, hands and feet crushed bone by bone, rose up again. I was back on that day. I didn't dare struggle. I only shielded what I could of my vital points.

They trussed me up, dragged me out by force, off to my neighbor Stella Pruitt's house to be forced to apologize.

Even more villagers had gathered at Stella's.

Her sobbing carried out of the house. "I won't go on living! After my man died I kept myself decent, stayed faithful to him, and I never thought I'd be defiled by that Floyd animal! I can't face my man! I can't go on living!"

The moment I appeared, Stella froze, then came tearing out of the house and lunged at me like a madwoman.

"You beast! You deserve a thousand cuts! I'll take you down with me! I'll do it!"

I watched her calmly, didn't flinch, didn't dodge. When she was almost on me, I suddenly asked:

"Spreading lies gets you a prison sentence. You sure I violated you?"