Then I said "Hey" in a sheepish little voice and he put the axe down and looked up at me, a mean new look in his eye I had never seen before beaming off him like fire.
"What do you want?" He said.
I told him that I felt terrible about his predicament and I offered him the money. "Blood money" he said as he took the bag of cash from me.
"How much does this make you feel better about your miserable life?" He asked, "Just a little bit, or a lot?"
I told him that it did not surprise me that he would respond this way, but nevertheless fifteen thousand dollars is no small sum in any case, and especially for a man who doesn't have anything in the world in the first place.
"I have a home, God damn it," he said cooly, damming up a well of hostility no doubt, "Or at least I did till you and your wife and your precious little Juliet came around."
"Do you want the money or not?" I said, knowing that was the only question worth discussing at this time.
He nodded and put the money bag on the ground and then started hacking away at the logs again.
"I'm sorry for all this," I said, quite earnestly.
But he did not reply. He just kept chopping.
And so I wandered back through the woods toward my car and I got in, feeling a bit shaken.
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