A Day for Damnation

FIFTY-EIGHT

I WENT to see Duke.

He looked better. And he looked worse. The bitterness was obvious now. When I sat down next to his bed, he turned his head away from me.

I said, "I won't stay long. I came to deliver something." He still didn't look at me.

I waited till the nurse was out of the room. I said, "I don't know how you're going to hide it Duke, or where-but... well, here." I slipped the grenade into his hand. His one remaining hand. The grenade was small but lethal. It would do the job.

Duke didn't move. The grenade sat in his hand like a rock. Had I made a mistake? Had I reminded him again of his own fear?

Perhaps I should just go. Duke turned his head.

The hand with the grenade lifted up as if it had a life of its own. It carried the grenade painfully upward to where Duke's eyes could focus on it. They blinked and cleared and looked at the grenade dispassionately. The hand turned the grenade over and over. The thumb found the safety catch.

Duke's mouth opened. The hand brought the grenade forward so he could grab the ring with his teeth. Was he going to detonate it now?!

No. He wasn't. He let go of the ring. He was just testing the feel of it. He looked at the grenade again, and there was just the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

And then the hand holding the grenade disappeared beneath the covers.

Duke still hadn't looked at me. Still hadn't met my eyes.

I waited, but he turned his head away again, toward the wall. Not even a thank you.

It was all right. He knew. There was no better way. After a while, I got up and left.

That was the last time that I saw Duke.