Triangle

Something was off. Timmy knew it. Still, what other choice but to keep his head down and stay moving? It seemed they’d walked at least a mile, maybe two before a shaft of light from a clearing split the treetops. Timmy’s arms were aching. The bundle of sticks he was carrying grew heavier by the minute. Sal continued adding to it.
Strange place to set up camp, way out here, but Sal knew his way around these woods and Timmy was in no position to question him.
His face was hot and flushed. Not so much from exertion as from being confronted in this way. Sweat trickled between his armpits. From his pack, Sal withdrew a large rubber-headed mallet and began to twirl it back and forth in his right hand as they walked.
Sal’s tone was unusually flat, but his words were as sharp as a bone saw. Timmy listened, head down, nodding occasionally when Sal demanded some sort of acknowledgment. Every now and then Sal spat a fresh jet of brown tobacco juice near Timmy’s feet. Some dribbled down his chin, catching in his sandy beard hair. Sal didn’t seem to notice or care.
“What do we need that for, Sal?” Timmy said, attempting to switch the subject, his eyes locked on the sinister-looking tool.
“Stake drivin. Gotta put up a tent, don’t we? Ever set one up before?”
Timmy shook his head.
“Guess it’s bout time you learned.”
Timmy nodded.
“Now you listen up, bud,” Sal said, as they neared a makeshift fire pit.
“This is the last I’m gonna say about this. Ever! Understand? So you listen good. We’ve been buds a long time, haven’t we? As I’ve already said, I don’t mind sharin most things with my friends. Took ya under my wing, didn’t I? Taught you as much as I could. Paid you fairly?”
Timmy nodded.
“But – there is one thing I don’t ever share, chief.” Timmy swallowed hard, still averting his eyes from Sal’s icy glare.
“Cara – she’s my girl! Understand? Now, I know it wasn’t all your fault. I know you’re a little slow, and I know what a little whore she can be – all that flirty touchy-feely shit. You’re not the first, trust me, but I’ve taken care of it. She won’t be bothering ya anymore. Promise ya that. Question is, how bout you boss? You and I have an agreement? No more grab assin between you two? Huh? Answer me, Romeo!”
Once again, Timmy slowly nodded, fearing his voice would shatter into pathetic little shards if he tried to speak.
“Good, good. Me too.”
Sal thrust out a big meaty paw. Timmy just stood there, his arms aching painfully under the weight of the kindling.
“Shit hoss, what the hell am I thinkin, go ahead and drop that bundle over there on the fire pit, then we’ll have a proper shake on it.”
Timmy smiled wanly, a warm rush of relief flooding through him. Finally, this whole uncomfortable business was about to be over with. Thank god.
He immediately set out to do as he was told. That’s when Sal reached back over his shoulder, and using all of his three-hundred-pound frame, swung the mallet hard and true. It whistled a cold murderous song through the thick summer air.