WEBVTT

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And now, tonight's presentation from radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.

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Tonight, the story of a man who lost his shoes.

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And when you're suspected of murder and you've got to run for your life and the temperature

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is in the 90s, why then you're correct in saying it's too hot to live.

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Hey you, reloader!

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What?

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We don't sell tickets on this freight.

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It was empty, I didn't think anybody had mind.

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We're slowing down for a crossing, I don't want to find you when I come back.

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Where are we?

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Half mile from Marcus Junction.

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Thanks.

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Forget the thanks, just beat it before somebody inquisitive starts asking questions.

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Yeah, don't they always?

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The train rolls by slowly and the crossing bell warns that death is here.

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I don't recognize it though.

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I walk towards Marcus Junction, towards death.

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The sun is 11 o'clock high and starting to pucker the tar road.

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I'm heading in.

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Sweat is beginning to streak through the old sun-tan uniform and my shoes are sucking tar

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every time I lift them.

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The sole of one boot busts loose and starts flapping against the road.

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That's bad.

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A drifter needs a good pair of shoes and I'm on the drift.

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Marcus Junction, no different than any thousand others like it.

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About a mile square of small buildings all pasted together.

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I walk a couple of blocks without finding a shoemaker.

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The town is almost empty this Saturday morning.

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And then a door opens ahead of me and a big man steps out.

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Really big, both ways.

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Big high and big wide.

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He's wearing steel rimmed glasses screwed up tight above the pug nose of his round face

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and six full inches of hat brim circle the pink flesh like a halo.

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Good morning, son.

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My name's Benjamin.

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Benjamin Martin.

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Good morning, Mr. Martin.

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Benjamin, son.

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Call me Benjamin.

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That's the handle that shakes this pump.

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What's yours, boy?

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Jeff Casey.

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Jeffrey or Jefferson?

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Jefferson.

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Jefferson.

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That's a good name.

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Now, don't think I'm changing the subject, but where could I get this fixed, Benjamin?

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Well, pretty socks.

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They are at that.

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But who will take care of this shoe?

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Yeah, I'm going down to Stacy's for a coke.

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Shoe fixer's right next door.

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Come along, Jefferson.

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On my turn I see his left side, gun holstered high up on his hip

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and the gold star with the word sheriff glinting in the sunlight.

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Still wearing your old army clothes.

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I hear those duds wear like iron.

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You just throw them away when they start to rust.

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Uniforms wear forever.

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I believe you've seen their last war.

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Where were you in, boy?

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Air Corps.

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Captain.

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Uniform, sweet pay, and lots of respect.

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You miss it, Jefferson?

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Maybe I do.

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What are you looking for now?

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I'm not looking for anything, just living, more or less.

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A man ought to find more to do with his life than that.

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It's all the same to me.

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I could die today and it wouldn't make any difference to me or anyone else.

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You've got a bad taste in your mouth, but you'll spit it out someday.

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Eee, daddy like this weather.

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If it gets any warmer, it'll be almost too hot to live.

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In a manner of speaking, you understand.

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Yeah, I understand.

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Well, here's a shoe repair.

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I'll be next door.

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Leave your shoes and waddle in on them pretty socks of yours.

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I'll buy you a drink, Coke or coffee.

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The shoemaker tells me that my shoes will take a couple of hours,

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so I start next door to join Benjamin.

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I don't know, maybe I'm feeling pretty good, but I pull an old schoolboy trick of mine.

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I take off my socks, roll them up and throw them on the counter with my shoes.

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Then I walk outside to feel a cool shaded cement trickle up through the bottom of my bare feet.

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Through the store window next door, I see the four people in the restaurant.

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Benjamin waves for me to come in.

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Inside the entrance, a blonde sliver of a man who's showing about three inches of wrist and shin bone below the edges of his clothes.

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The squat moon-faced grill man has his Popeyes focused intently on the argument.

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His flabby hands, purple-red from too much hot soapy water and frying grease, make fluttering passes at a fly.

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Now look, I want you to get out of here once and for all.

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I go in, brushing past the argument, walk over to Benjamin and sit on the next stool.

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And I shall return. Though she's scared, I must run.

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Hi, Jefferson.

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Hi, Benjamin, came for the coffee.

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In a minute, Rachel's about finished.

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And all her sins was find her out. She's a Jezebel and kin only to the devil.

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Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. You'll find it on the menu next week.

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Now find yourself a street corner and get it out of your system.

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Oh, you are bad, bad beyond all hope.

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See you around, Pop. I don't hope.

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The girl plays rough.

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Well, that's just Rachel's way, Jefferson. I see you lean to bare feet.

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What's your friend having, Buster?

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Benjamin, Rachel, Benjamin.

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Maybe smart to tack nicknames on people, but my folks figured me for a Benjamin and I like it that way.

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Sure, Buster. What'll it be, soldier?

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Black coffee, lady. And don't let the uniform throw you. I'm no soldier anymore.

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The Hollywood line of her mouth twists up into a lopsided kind of inviting grin as she turns to get the coffee.

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I watch the dark shadows that follow the rippling lines of her uniform when she moves.

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Rachel is quite a woman. All woman.

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Coffee, barefoot. Like you, soldier.

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Hey, your friend's real pretty, Buster.

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Yeah, you think everybody's pretty.

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Oh, but he's a doll. You be around long, soldier?

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Long enough to get my shoes fixed, Rachel.

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Rachel, that name doesn't go with you.

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It's a name. Too bad you're moving on so soon. New faces are scarce around here.

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Especially one like yours.

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Well, I got some law to enforce. Will I see you before you go, Jefferson?

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I'll find you, Benjamin.

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Do that, boy. I'm afraid to face that heat out there. Now, you behave yourself, Rachel.

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Yeah, yeah, yes, well.

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You like playing it tough?

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Under it all beats a heart of gold. Tell me what it's like in the world outside, soldier.

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Hey, Rachel, why don't you put up some more coffee?

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Tandy your bacon, lover. I got company.

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Your boyfriend?

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Loverboy there? Oh, no, that's Kenny. He's keeping company with a hot grill.

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You ought to talk about me like that, Rachel. It's not right.

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Well, then don't bother me while I'm with my friends.

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Hey, soldier, I'm off about now.

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Why don't you and me go out to carnival for a couple of hours, huh?

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You let her alone. Don't go with her, you hear?

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Yeah, I hear, Kenny. I'd like to, Rachel, but how do I go barefoot?

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Oh, forget.

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Got any other ideas?

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Yeah, matter of fact, I live upstairs over this greasy spool.

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Let's go up and mix ourselves something cool while we wait for your shoes.

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You can't do that. It isn't nice. It don't look right.

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Don't it? Let's go, Rachel.

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Don't. You can't. I'll stop you.

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Go hash some potatoes, lover. My arm, soldier.

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No, no, Rachel. I'll get someone to tend here. I'll come right up.

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You do and I'll barbecue you on your own grill.

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We go out and my feet scruff over the shaded pavement as we pass through the doorway on the left.

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I follow her up a flight of stairs and into a small box-like apartment, living room, bedroom, kitchen and bathroom.

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Be it ever so humble, this is home.

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Let's kick out a wall or something.

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The windows don't help much, but the drinks will.

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Why do you have to lean into the kitchen? Why not just walk in?

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Fresh varnish on the floor. The heat don't let it dry.

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It's a long reach for a long drink.

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It's a long day.

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There you go, soldier.

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Don't you believe in mixing anything with your liquor?

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What for? The cubes will melt.

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Now, what do we drink to, soldier?

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The heat.

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The heat. Cools you off, don't it?

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It burns its way down my stomach and explodes.

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That's good, ain't it, soldier?

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My pores open and the perspiration oozes down.

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Here, let's have another. Don't let it wear off.

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She's still talking, but I'm going numb.

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Let's drink to my catch.

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No heat, no food.

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I shouldn't be drinking. Who cares?

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You're a real cute soldier.

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I'm getting foggy. Let's drink down to your touch.

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She's drifting closer.

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I don't know who kisses who first.

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Oh, yeah, you're real pretty.

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Bitter tears. Tears of loneliness and regret.

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Another drink, huh? Hey!

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Everything is moving around like feathers in a high wind.

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You're a real cute soldier, isn't it?

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And sometimes one drifts in through the fog.

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How?

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We're drinking.

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How many? I don't know.

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Breathing, sucking down scorching air,

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hot, damp waves of heat suffocating.

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She's close.

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Can smell perfume, cheap like tin earrings.

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Black rolling in.

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Black velvet in the shimmering heat.

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Wavering like plucking a taut string.

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Wavering, wavering, wavering.

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There's a steady sound, sharp, smart little cracks.

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All right.

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I tear my eyelids apart and a flash of ceiling whirls by.

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All right, come on.

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A purple-red mass is coming toward my face, and when it hits...

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There's a sound in the ceiling moving the other way.

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A frozen kind of pain is seeping through to my brain,

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and I can make out a voice now.

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I get my hand up to my face and wipe my eyes.

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My hand comes away wet and sticky and red.

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The ugly purple mass comes.

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Awake now? Swell.

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I got something for you.

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Over there, in the corner of the kitchen.

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See how she's lying there?

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Take your hands off me.

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That's how I found her.

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You beside her and your filthy hands still tight around her throat.

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What's the matter with my hands?

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Sticky, wet.

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That's varnish and blood, your blood.

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See that knife in her hand?

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She cut you trying to stop you.

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You killed her.

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You killed Rachel.

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He doesn't make any kind of sense.

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The bathroom door is open, and I stagger towards it,

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stepping on broken glass, pain stinging, remembering bare feet.

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The open shower waiting for me.

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I turn the handle to the cold water and half throw myself

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into the shock of the cold stream.

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I'm coming alive.

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The reaction's setting in.

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Fright.

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He said I'd killed her.

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Hey, Sheriff. Benjamin, hey, Benjamin, come up here.

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I got a dirty killer for you.

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That lousy friend of yours killed Rachel.

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Come and get him.

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Kenny shouting out the window in the other room to Benjamin.

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I gotta get away, gotta think.

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What happened, what?

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I get through the bathroom window out into the glare of the sun,

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and my feet hit the scalding car of the marquee.

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I scramble across it, drop to the street, a narrow alley,

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and I'm running down it toward the fence that blocks off the far end.

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A garbage can near the fence and a woman putting something into it.

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I jump, reaching for the fence.

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Hey, what do you think you're doing?

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Let me go, let go.

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Pick up that garbage, you crazy.

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Let go, I didn't do it.

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What do you mean? I saw you kick it over.

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I'm not gonna clean up that mess.

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I didn't kill her. Take your hands off me.

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Why would I kill Rachel?

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Why would you kill?

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All right, Jefferson, come along and tell me why you killed Rachel.

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You are listening to Mr. Sam Edwards in Sam Rolfe's story,

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Too Hot to Live, tonight's presentation in radio's outstanding

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theater of thrills, Suspense.

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Bachelor would be completely safe was on a stag line.

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Usually, of course, there's no more secure terrain,

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but a couple of slick swindlers figure out a new wrinkle in crime,

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and the stag line becomes the focal point for a neat, ruthless racket.

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Hear the complete story of the stag line swindlers tomorrow night

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when CBS radio presents the FBI in Peace and War on most of these same stations.

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And now we bring back to our Hollywood sound stage Mr. Sam Edwards

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in Elliot Lewis's production of Too Hot to Live,

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a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.

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Benjamin is leading me out into the sweltering street again.

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The sun burns into my flesh, accusing, as if to cause the murder

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to flow out of my open pores.

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And Benjamin walks beside me again, not holding me, just talking,

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asking questions, which I can't answer.

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Why'd you do it, son?

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I didn't kill her, Benjamin. I don't remember, but I...

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You don't sound sure, Jefferson. Now, don't you know?

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We were drinking. I blacked out.

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Drunk unconscious. You could still move around.

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You could do what was done in that apartment.

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But I couldn't. Why would I want to do a thing like that?

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Maybe you played it too rough. Maybe she tried to stop you,

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cut you with a knife. Why'd you run away?

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I... I was scared. Kenny said my hands were around her throat.

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Blood, varnish, heat.

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Remember anything?

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Rachel. Sprawling a gummy floor. I can't remember.

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Yeah? I'll have to lock you up,

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and then I'll go back and have a good look around.

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Maybe I'll find something.

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And if you don't...

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Rachel's dead, Jefferson.

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Wasn't premeditated, but that don't excuse it.

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She's still dead.

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They'll try to hang me.

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Why can't I remember what happened? What led to this?

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The sweats rolling down Benjamin's forehead,

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collecting along the top of his glasses, sliding into his eyes.

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They smart and snapped shut.

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He has to stop, try to rub the sting away.

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I slap the glasses, knocking off his face, and grab for his gun.

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His arm comes down, fast, hard, chopping at my hand,

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numbing the arm to the shoulder, and the gun falls to the road.

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I run, hobbling up and down, lopsided.

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Jefferson!

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Trying to get away from Benjamin, from the burning and torn feet under me.

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Come back! You can't get far, I'll get you anyway!

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I'm running again down the burning streets, out to the end of town.

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Toward the railroad, now off the searing pavement.

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But jagged rocks and sharp brush tear at the numb pain that is my feet.

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I run till my legs slide away from under me,

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then crawl, dragging a body that has no feeling.

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A dead weight that robs my arms of their strength.

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And finally, steel rails glisten ahead as I lay sprawled out,

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heart and lungs going crazy in my body.

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Something starts down in my chest,

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spreads up to my throat, spilling out of my mouth.

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I run, hob!

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An hour has passed, and the sun is moving away towards the west.

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No trains have passed, but it's all right.

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I know what I have to do now.

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Find Kenny, and one way or another force him to tell the truth,

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for he must be lying.

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I lick my handkerchief, and wipe the dried blood off my hands and feet.

18:22.080 --> 18:27.080
Comb my hair, throw away the army shirt, and move back to town.

18:27.080 --> 18:32.080
Stepping gently, I make my way up the back streets to the restaurant.

18:32.080 --> 18:36.080
Pulling my pants down low to cover as much of my bare feet as possible,

18:36.080 --> 18:38.080
I step inside.

18:38.080 --> 18:41.080
There's a stranger behind the counter.

18:41.080 --> 18:42.080
Well, howdy.

18:42.080 --> 18:44.080
Hi.

18:44.080 --> 18:46.080
Where's everybody in this town?

18:46.080 --> 18:48.080
Oh, most are out at the carnival.

18:48.080 --> 18:50.080
Some are looking for a killer roaming around.

18:50.080 --> 18:52.080
I heard about him.

18:52.080 --> 18:55.080
Heard he was picked up a couple of miles out.

18:55.080 --> 18:57.080
They got him. Good deal.

18:57.080 --> 18:59.080
You know, Rachel worked here.

18:59.080 --> 19:01.080
Yeah, I know.

19:01.080 --> 19:03.080
Say, where's Kenny?

19:03.080 --> 19:05.080
Oh, he's out at the Clovis place.

19:05.080 --> 19:09.080
He wanted to be the one to tell Rachel's folks about, you know.

19:09.080 --> 19:13.080
I guess I ought to go out there and pick him up.

19:13.080 --> 19:14.080
I don't know the place, too.

19:14.080 --> 19:15.080
Well, how do I get there?

19:15.080 --> 19:17.080
Oh, just follow this road down.

19:17.080 --> 19:20.080
About a half mile out of town, you'll find a dirt cutoff.

19:20.080 --> 19:21.080
Can't miss the mailbox.

19:21.080 --> 19:22.080
Thanks.

19:22.080 --> 19:24.080
Say, if you miss him, who'll I say was asking?

19:24.080 --> 19:27.080
Just tell him his cousin Jim was here.

19:27.080 --> 19:29.080
Well, pleased to have met...

19:29.080 --> 19:31.080
Hey, you ain't wearing shoes.

19:31.080 --> 19:34.080
You, you're the one. You're the killer.

19:37.080 --> 19:39.080
Run, run, run again.

19:39.080 --> 19:40.080
Another alley.

19:40.080 --> 19:44.080
Blistering pavements, cement ripping, and the jagged rocks again.

19:44.080 --> 19:46.080
Time is running, too. Running out.

19:46.080 --> 19:48.080
Benjamin will know where I'm going.

19:48.080 --> 19:50.080
Out to the main highway.

19:50.080 --> 19:52.080
Hands pulled low and thumb up in the air.

19:52.080 --> 19:54.080
Here comes my ride.

19:54.080 --> 19:56.080
He's got to stop. Got to stop.

19:56.080 --> 19:58.080
Please.

20:00.080 --> 20:02.080
Pepper, instead.

20:02.080 --> 20:04.080
Thanks, mister. Thanks a lot.

20:04.080 --> 20:06.080
You're welcome, but I'm not going far.

20:06.080 --> 20:09.080
I'm just going out to the Clovis farm.

20:09.080 --> 20:10.080
That's about...

20:10.080 --> 20:12.080
I know the place.

20:12.080 --> 20:13.080
Why are you going there now?

20:13.080 --> 20:16.080
I'm a cousin of Kenny's. I'm going to meet him out there.

20:16.080 --> 20:19.080
Oh. I don't place here.

20:19.080 --> 20:21.080
I'm visiting from back east.

20:21.080 --> 20:23.080
You're not wearing shoes.

20:23.080 --> 20:26.080
Ha. Yeah.

20:26.080 --> 20:28.080
That's a silly thing.

20:28.080 --> 20:32.080
I lost my shoes while wading barefoot in a stream.

20:32.080 --> 20:33.080
Didn't help my feet any.

20:33.080 --> 20:36.080
What stream is that for?

20:36.080 --> 20:39.080
You know the one. I don't know the name of it.

20:39.080 --> 20:41.080
It's out there in the woods.

20:41.080 --> 20:45.080
Yeah. I think I know the one.

20:45.080 --> 20:48.080
This is the dirt road you want.

20:48.080 --> 20:50.080
House is over the rise.

20:50.080 --> 20:52.080
Thanks again.

20:52.080 --> 20:54.080
See ya.

21:01.080 --> 21:04.080
I limp up the rising dirt path.

21:04.080 --> 21:07.080
At the top I turn for a look at my ride.

21:07.080 --> 21:10.080
He's swinging around towards town.

21:10.080 --> 21:13.080
Benjamin will get to me. And soon.

21:13.080 --> 21:18.080
An old two-storied farmhouse rises out of the cleared fields around me.

21:18.080 --> 21:24.080
A big gray barn stands off near the house and two old cars are sitting empty behind it.

21:24.080 --> 21:27.080
Kenny's got to come to one of them.

21:27.080 --> 21:29.080
I'll wait.

21:29.080 --> 21:32.080
Time still running out and away from me.

21:32.080 --> 21:37.080
Little shimmering waves of heat rise off the tin hoods of the cars.

21:37.080 --> 21:39.080
Here he comes.

21:39.080 --> 21:42.080
Now or never.

21:42.080 --> 21:44.080
Hey!

21:44.080 --> 21:47.080
Quiet! Quiet or I'll break your back!

21:47.080 --> 21:49.080
I want the truth, Kenny.

21:49.080 --> 21:51.080
The truth if I have to kill you for it.

21:51.080 --> 21:52.080
I didn't kill Rachel.

21:52.080 --> 21:53.080
You did.

21:53.080 --> 21:56.080
I didn't. I didn't. I didn't.

21:56.080 --> 21:59.080
You killed her. You were crazy jealous.

21:59.080 --> 22:00.080
No!

22:00.080 --> 22:03.080
Yes! You came to check up. You found us drunk and you got wild. You killed her.

22:03.080 --> 22:05.080
I didn't. I can prove it.

22:05.080 --> 22:06.080
Prove it?

22:06.080 --> 22:10.080
There wasn't three minutes between the time I left the restaurant and the time I called Benjamin.

22:10.080 --> 22:13.080
Not enough time to get up there, kill her and bring you around.

22:13.080 --> 22:14.080
Three minutes?

22:14.080 --> 22:17.080
I can prove it. That's all the time.

22:17.080 --> 22:20.080
You did it. You have cut hands from her knife.

22:20.080 --> 22:23.080
Those hands were still around her throat when I came in. You killed Rachel.

22:27.080 --> 22:30.080
And there it is. He isn't lying about the three minutes.

22:30.080 --> 22:34.080
That gloating smirk on his face tells me that I had killed her.

22:34.080 --> 22:37.080
The horror of this afternoon had been for nothing.

22:37.080 --> 22:41.080
I'd tried to save my life. Instead I'd proven myself guilty.

22:41.080 --> 22:44.080
Tied the rope finally and for all time around my neck.

22:44.080 --> 22:47.080
Shoot him! Don't just stand there, shoot!

22:47.080 --> 22:49.080
He's the man who killed your daughter.

22:53.080 --> 23:01.080
He stands there watching the gaunt sliver of a man with shins and freshly scarred wrists exposed below the edges of his clothing.

23:01.080 --> 23:04.080
A double-barrel shotgun is cradled in his arms when he just looks at me.

23:04.080 --> 23:07.080
A wild fire striking out of the black pupils of his eyes.

23:07.080 --> 23:11.080
Shoot him! He killed your daughter! He killed Rachel!

23:11.080 --> 23:15.080
So you're her father. I thought it was a nickname.

23:15.080 --> 23:18.080
She was no daughter of mine.

23:18.080 --> 23:23.080
She was born to me and I named her Rachel from the Bible.

23:23.080 --> 23:26.080
But she was the daughter of Satan.

23:26.080 --> 23:28.080
I'm sorry, Mr. Clovis.

23:28.080 --> 23:30.080
Shoot him! Because of him Rachel is dead.

23:30.080 --> 23:33.080
She turned away from me.

23:33.080 --> 23:36.080
But within me the voice was strong.

23:36.080 --> 23:41.080
I followed her begging, reading to her from the book.

23:41.080 --> 23:44.080
To the place where she lived, where she worked.

23:44.080 --> 23:47.080
But she turned me away with curses.

23:47.080 --> 23:50.080
I'm sorry, I was drunk, crazy.

23:50.080 --> 23:56.080
In that apartment, the stench of drink like an evil cloud.

23:56.080 --> 24:01.080
You lying there, drunk with a devilish fever.

24:01.080 --> 24:03.080
You... you were there!

24:03.080 --> 24:05.080
Shut up, you crazy old fool!

24:05.080 --> 24:08.080
She took a knife to drive me out.

24:08.080 --> 24:15.080
These scars on my wrists, vile words, attacked me.

24:15.080 --> 24:19.080
And it came to me like a voice from on high.

24:19.080 --> 24:22.080
I knew what I must do.

24:22.080 --> 24:25.080
You killed her! It wasn't me, it was you!

24:25.080 --> 24:27.080
I knew you couldn't keep your mouth shut.

24:27.080 --> 24:29.080
You knew he did it, Kenny.

24:29.080 --> 24:32.080
You tried to make me believe I'd been the one. Why?

24:32.080 --> 24:35.080
You... you and tramps like you.

24:35.080 --> 24:38.080
Always keeping her from me.

24:38.080 --> 24:40.080
Coming along every time.

24:40.080 --> 24:42.080
I couldn't know this, Kenny.

24:42.080 --> 24:47.080
You didn't care. You laughed at me, made Rachel laugh at me.

24:47.080 --> 24:50.080
I passed the old man when I went up.

24:50.080 --> 24:52.080
I knew as soon as I walked into the room.

24:52.080 --> 24:54.080
And you tried to blame it on me.

24:54.080 --> 24:56.080
It wasn't the crazy old goat who killed her.

24:56.080 --> 24:58.080
It was you and men like you.

24:58.080 --> 24:59.080
She would have married me.

24:59.080 --> 25:02.080
But you and your kind came along.

25:02.080 --> 25:05.080
I hate you. You did kill her.

25:05.080 --> 25:07.080
And you'll die for it.

25:07.080 --> 25:08.080
Give me the gun, old man.

25:08.080 --> 25:10.080
No, no, Kenny, not now.

25:10.080 --> 25:12.080
Turn around, soldier.

25:12.080 --> 25:14.080
Turn around and see it when it happens.

25:14.080 --> 25:16.080
What of your gun, Kenneth?

25:16.080 --> 25:18.080
No.

25:18.080 --> 25:19.080
No!

25:19.080 --> 25:24.080
Ow!

25:29.080 --> 25:31.080
All right, Jefferson.

25:31.080 --> 25:33.080
We'll go home now.

25:33.080 --> 25:37.080
The Sun is moving down low in the skies,

25:37.080 --> 25:40.080
and a cool light breeze has come up from somewhere.

25:40.080 --> 25:44.080
I'm leaning back on the front seat besides Benjamin,

25:44.080 --> 25:47.080
breathing deeply, evenly,

25:47.080 --> 25:51.080
feeling the goodness of just living seep through.

25:51.080 --> 25:55.080
In the back seat, the old man is sitting in his chair.

25:55.080 --> 26:01.180
He's got a little bit of a

26:01.180 --> 26:03.180
little bit of a sense of humor.

26:03.180 --> 26:07.180
In the back seat, the old man Clovis sits staring ahead,

26:07.180 --> 26:10.180
not even aware of the blanket-wrapped body of Kenny

26:10.180 --> 26:12.180
lying on the floor at his feet.

26:12.180 --> 26:14.180
If you hadn't been so eager to run,

26:14.180 --> 26:17.180
I could have saved your feet a lot of wear.

26:17.180 --> 26:19.180
I knew you weren't a murderer, son.

26:19.180 --> 26:21.180
You knew?

26:21.180 --> 26:23.180
Sure, I went back to the apartment.

26:23.180 --> 26:26.180
The old story's there in the varnish on the kitchen floor.

26:26.180 --> 26:29.180
No marks of bare feet around the body,

26:29.180 --> 26:32.180
but you cut your hand on broken glass in the living room.

26:32.180 --> 26:34.180
It bled.

26:34.180 --> 26:38.180
And his eye was running.

26:38.180 --> 26:40.180
Yes.

26:40.180 --> 26:43.180
For a man who don't care whether he lives or dies,

26:43.180 --> 26:46.180
you sure got lots of jackrabbit in your legs.

26:46.180 --> 26:48.180
What a day.

26:48.180 --> 26:51.180
It's been quite a day, Benjamin.

26:51.180 --> 26:54.180
Sure has been a scorcher, ain't it?

26:54.180 --> 26:57.180
Glad to see the sun going down.

26:57.180 --> 27:01.180
On a day like this, it's almost too hot to live.

27:01.180 --> 27:03.180
Don't say that, Benjamin.

27:03.180 --> 27:30.180
It never gets that hot.

27:30.180 --> 27:36.180
Suspense, in which Sam Edwards was starred in Too Hot to Live.

27:36.180 --> 27:40.180
Next week, the story of a woman who had a strange visitor,

27:40.180 --> 27:43.180
a man who wanted to spend a day with her,

27:43.180 --> 27:46.180
just waiting until her husband got home from work

27:46.180 --> 27:48.180
so that he could kill him.

27:48.180 --> 27:50.180
It's called The Tip.

27:50.180 --> 27:55.180
That's next week on Suspense.

27:55.180 --> 28:10.180
Suspense is produced and directed by Elliot Lewis,

28:10.180 --> 28:12.180
with music composed by Lucian Morrowick

28:12.180 --> 28:14.180
and conducted by Lud Gluskin.

28:14.180 --> 28:18.180
Too Hot to Live was written for Suspense by Sam Rolfe.

28:18.180 --> 28:21.180
In tonight's story, Sam Edwards was heard as Jefferson

28:21.180 --> 28:23.180
and Paul Fries as Benjamin,

28:23.180 --> 28:26.180
featured on the cast were Mary Jane Croft, Lee Millar,

28:26.180 --> 28:31.180
Junius Matthews, Charles Calvert, Herb Butterfield, and Gene Wood.

28:31.180 --> 28:47.180
And remember, next week, Carl Abrams played The Tip.

28:47.180 --> 28:50.180
The tragic story of an unidentified boy hit by a car

28:50.180 --> 28:52.180
after hitching a ride on the back of a truck

28:52.180 --> 28:56.180
is told tomorrow night on CBS Radio's 21st Precinct.

28:56.180 --> 28:59.180
Police of the 21st Precinct track down the boy's identity

28:59.180 --> 29:02.180
through his sweater marked Red Tigers.

29:02.180 --> 29:04.180
Before they're through, even case-hardened cops

29:04.180 --> 29:07.180
have to swallow hard to keep back tears.

29:07.180 --> 29:09.180
Don't miss 21st Precinct tomorrow night

29:09.180 --> 29:17.180
on most of these same stations.

29:17.180 --> 29:20.180
He really clicks against criminals, crime photographer,

29:20.180 --> 29:23.180
on the CBS Radio Network.

