“Blood poured out of his nose as freely as the scream from his mouth. His eyes shot sharp barbs at the slovenly man who loomed above him. His head ringing and spinning from the slap. The man, his speech slurred said, ‘Don’t you dare eye me, boy. I’ve taken on men bigger’n you.’ Out of the corner of his tear-blurred eye, the boy caught a glimpse of the case of shotgun shells on the shelf next to the shovel his father had used to bury his mother. A plan formed.”