Richard Harrison, 12 (Barbaraâs brother)
Donald Coleman (friend of Barbaraâs dad)
Quotation
â When a man with a .45 meets a man with a rifle, the man with a pistol will be a dead man.â
Ramón Rojo(Gian Maria Volontè)
A FISTFUL OF DOLLARS (1964)
Directed by Sergio Leone
Prologue
A ppearances are not always misleading and monsters do exist. Children need to be made aware of this and shown the world for what it really is â itâs for their own good. Wrapping them up in cotton wool can be dangerous. Dualism exists in this world: understanding good without knowing evil is like denying the existence of free will.
Children need to be told that, although all men are born equal, they are defined by infinite differences that make each individual totally unique. These differences are created by various influences, be it family, schooling, society or geography. They combine to determine an individualâs cognitive, physical, and spiritual development. Shaped by these influences, the individual develops and, upon becoming an adult, chooses how to act. Being able to distinguish good from evil, and acknowledging the existence of evil but rejecting it in favor of a life of good, shows an ability to understand dualism and go through life with more self-assurance and self-awareness.
Human beings have always discussed evil, with each era approaching the topic from different perspectives. Every era has its own evil, which must be acknowledged and confronted rather than ignored.
But is it really an alternative to good? Is it really a choice we can make?
It may just be that evil comes about through being continually deprived or through yielding to something that preys on human flaws. To truly understand this issue, we need to look beyond material answers and seek a more thoughtful and enlightened path.
Only humans as spiritual beings, having achieved a state of completeness, can discern good from evil. If an individual somehow falls short of this state of completeness, discerning good from evil can be difficult, if not impossible.
Dalton Clark was walking hand in hand with his wife as dawn broke. He loved the fresh air of Medford Lakes - it was a great place to be retired.
âWeâve waited so long, dearâ said Dalton as they reached the quay. âBut the day has finally arrived and we need to be ready. A bit of exercise will do us good, both physically and mentally.â He let go of his wifeâs hand so he could untie the clove hitch that was securing the canoe to two wooden fence posts.
Samantha Monroe watched and said nothing. She was used to indulging her husband, a man who years earlier had saved her and brought her back to life. Dalton had listened to her and understood her like no-one else could, not even her sons and her first husband, and for that she would always be devoted to him and trust him implicitly. Dalton was a giant of a man. He wasnât the most agile, but he had plenty of physical strength and character, and although he wasnât particularly warm with Samanthaâs boys, she knew that behind his gruff and surly exterior beat the heart of a good man who was able to overcome situations that forced most others into submission.
Dalton pushed the canoe more than halfway into the water. Samantha handed him the paddle, and he wheezed as he sat his considerable frame down in the rear of the boat.
âCome on, dear, donât be scared. Iâve got you.â
Samantha rolled up her linen pants below her knees and stepped aboard the canoe with no little difficulty. Her joints were not what they once were and her back often hurt, but she was determined to float out to the middle of the lake with her Dalton on this fateful day, waiting for everything to fall into place just the way they had imagined and prepared for over the years - well, the way Dalton had prepared for and she and her sons had faithfully accepted. Perhaps today would be the day when all her suffering would finally end and she would avenge what her whole, defenceless family had been forced to endure all these years.
Dalton was sure of things that Samantha was not. He knew of things that others could never have imagined, and most importantly he had solutions which, although disconcerting on the surface, were the only possible course of action and had to be seen through.
â There are forces at work beyond our normal understanding of good and evil, and we need to respond to those forces in the only language they understand⦠You have to accept that, Samantha, if you want to set yourself free, otherwise they will come back stronger than ever and finish the job they started all those years ago: hurting you and your familyâ¦â That was what Dalton would say whenever she showed any hint of doubt, even though she never went so far as to criticize the man for his theories and beliefs. Dalton had already saved her once and he would do so again. Samantha was just pathetic and ignorant and she knew she wasnât able to understand everything, but she also knew she had to trust in him to give herself and, more importantly her sons, another chance.
As Samantha steadily lowered herself into the front of the canoe, Dalton balanced the paddle across his knees, plunged his giant hands into the muddy bank and pushed with all his might, sending the canoe out into the water.
A few minutes later, as the sun rose and its rays began to warm their surroundings, Dalton and Samantha found themselves bobbing up and down in silence in the middle of the lake, listening to the morning song of the birds hidden among the tree branches. The brilliant sunlight glistened on the ripples caused by the motion of the canoe, the only thing disturbing the stillness of the lake
Chapter 1
(day one)
I t was too warm that Friday morning to put his old New Jersey Nets hoodie on under his mechanicâs overalls, so Jim Lewis pulled a not-too-creased denim shirt out of the closet and put it on over the red cotton tank top with two holes in the right side from a clumsy cigarette burn some years earlier.
Jim loved that tank top, even though it was faded and frayed. Wearing it made him feel like he was still young, and he loved the way it showed off his wiry physique, with the pronounced veins under his skin running down his neck and branching off along his arms.
It was more like a piece of body armor, that undershirt. It was part of him: Jim âred tank topâ Lewis.
Having worn it all day, the first thing he would do when he got home was wash it by hand and lay it out to dry so he could wear it again, worst-case scenario, in a couple days.
Once he had buttoned up his denim shirt, Jim slipped on his overalls, fastened the suspenders, and put on his oil-stained sneakers.
It was before seven, and his son Henry was still fast asleep in his room.
Jim went down to the kitchen, opened a can of Red Bull, switched on the TV for the morning news, then set about making his usual breakfast of a burger topped with a thin slice of melted cheese.
NBC was showing images of a gay rights demonstration that had ended in a few scuffles between the colorful, peaceful protesters and a small group of skinheads bearing swastika tattoos. One of the arrested skinheads was shouting about the dangers of same-sex marriage, something about it being a one-way ticket to Hell. From the look of his bulging eyes, complete with heavily dilated pupils, it was more likely that the Hell to which he referred was coursing through his veins in the form of drugs. Also under arrest were a handful of fanatical neo-Nazi conservatives who somehow felt the need to defend the