Page 33 of Three-Inch Teeth

The closed front gate of the lot had a sign on it that read:

LOR AMUSEMENTS

SINCE 1989

ENTER AT YOUR PERIL

“Park here,” Cates said to Johnson.

*

JOHNSON SHUT THE engine off and took in the twisted metal figures inside the lot. “I’ll stay. This place is creepy.”

“So is the owner,” Cates said. “Now come on.”

The gate was not locked, and Cates slid it open to enter. He marveled at the sign as he did so. Every individual segment of every letter was constructed of disparate materials to form the words: cut tubing, steel tools, lengths of bone. He guessed that it had taken months or maybe years to gather the bits and assemble it. Cates rolled his eyes and whistled.

Inside, it was even more crowded with objects than it had appeared. Looming above them was a knight on horseback grasping a lance made out of a long shaft with a drill bit on the end. A creature built to look like Bigfoot peered over its shoulder at them as it appeared to lurk away. A twelve-foot-high human skeleton stood above everything, its arms outstretched and its head tilted to the side as if it were crucified. Every work had been assembled from scrap metal and other scrounged items. Bigfoot was constructed almost entirely from rusty tire rims and chrome fenders. Every bone of the skeleton looked anatomically correct.

Beneath them along the path to the house were turtles made of hubcaps and rabbits twisted from long lengths of barbed wire.

“Who would buy this stuff?” Johnson asked.

Cates shrugged. “People who are as weird as Lee is, I guess.”

The wind changed tone as it blew through the lot and through the hollow metal artworks, making the place hum in an eerie way.

“I’m getting freaked out,” Johnson said, gripping Cates’s arm. “Maybe we should go back to the truck.”

As she said it, Cates inadvertently stepped on a concealed pressure plate with his boot and a grotesque goblin’s face shot out from a suspended metal box that was hung at eye level. The face shot through the air on a telescoping steel rod, its jaws snapping.

Cates reacted instinctively by stepping back and turning his head away. As the goblin shot by his ear, he grabbed it and held it fast. When the goblin tried to retract back into the box, Cates twisted its head off with a sharp snapping sound.

Johnson screamed and jumped back, then covered her open mouth with her hands.

A figure appeared at the doorway of the shop. He wore a welder’s apron, gloves, and a full white welding helmet decorated with stickers from the Star Wars universe. A lit acetylene torch hissed in his right hand.

“Ain’t nobody ever caught that goblin in midair,” he said, his voice muffled by his face shield. “But if anyone could do it, it would be Dallas Cates. I always said you had the quick reactions of a damned cat.”

Cates examined the head of the goblin in his hands, turning it over to see the exposed copper wires and pneumatic tubing that extended from it. Then he tossed it toward the man and it rolled until it bumped into his boots.

“Sorry I busted it, Lee,” Cates said. “How long did it take you to build it?”

Lee Ogburn-Russell shut off the torch and raised his face shield. His face, like his frame, was gnomish and soft and his eyes seemed both perpetually amused and disdainful. It was a face, Dallas had once heard a fellow inmate say, that just begged to be punched.

“It took me a few days,” Ogburn-Russell said. “Once I got the thrust mechanism figured out. I experimented with hydraulics, then I tried a gunpowder charge like they use for airbags, you know? Finally, I figured out that the best and fastest way to shoot that goblin head out was compressed air. I should have known that from the beginning.”

Then Ogburn-Russell turned his attention from Cates to Johnson. “Who’s the fine-looking split-tail you brought along?”

Cates turned his head and grinned at Johnson. “He’s always had a way of charming the ladies, as you can see.”

“He’s a pig,” she mouthed.

“He is,” Cates agreed.

“Why are you here, Dallas?” Ogburn-Russell asked. “I didn’t know you were out.”

“I’ve got a project for you,” Cates said. “A really important one that you can’t fuck up.”

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