Menachem looked down at the woman. Everything smelled terrible, though the smell morphed when he got closer to her and he had to avoid covering his nose to be polite, he wasn't any better. "Is he then?" Maybe he was why she was out in a field looking for a place to piss.

He was just as confused why she forgave him but smiled weakly. "Thanks for that."

With a painful wince, he knelt down, taking his weight off the bad leg. "I'm not a murderer.. but I'll make him wish he was. Maybe beat his face in a bit? How's that?"

She touched his arm and smiled, though her eyes didn’t seem to quite focus on his.

“You’re welcome, dear.”

He sounded like a nice fellow. Harry had, too, and sometimes she was certain she could still catch shadows of that. He sounded even nicer when he understood her needs.

“If you can get friends, too, dear, all the better. He likes to beat up little boys with his whole family.”

Menachem weakly patted her hand. He worried about her when she wasn't looking at him, but couldn't guarantee she wasn't just drunk again. "You feeling alright, ah.. misses?"

He laughed though it made his chest hurt. "No. A bunch of old men don't scare me. And I don't care, just gotta get him, right? If..he tries to get back at me. I'll hit him harder. He won't be..able to get his buddies together after that." He doubted some guy would keep trying since he didn't even know why they would bully this woman to such a degree.

What an odd question, she thought, as she stared up at shapes that might as well be meaningless. She supposed she was feeling a bit … too steady.

“Well enough,” she said. “After a drink, I’ll be right as rain again.”

She smiled, though the frowns it etched in her forehead were more telling.

“He’s got young ones that probably did most of it for him. My son will never be the same. Careful, dear.”

Menachem nodded but wearily studied her. "Come on.. a lady like yourself? You should be living and making memories.. not drinking." He chuckled weakly and rolled over to get to his knees and crawl to her to help her up.

"Who cares? It's just him I got to deal with. Just him that I need to send a message to. If he's too much trouble, I'll make my point.. go after his family. Right? Just scare em. Whatever you want."

“Memories?” Anita sighed. “Less is more.”

The last thing she needed was to remember every way she’d ever hurt. The drink was far easier to swallow.

She took his hand, eyes watering with a bittersweet smile.

“You’re a good man,” she said, yanking herself up, slipping, and then hefting again. “A good, good man. Throw Benjamin down that hole.”

Menachem watched her slightly when she said that. It struck him as something he felt he could relate to. He nodded and flashed her a warm smile, despite the pain that seemed to fill both of their bodies. "Alright, then when I am better and washed up. How about I take you to a bar and we share a drink. You can tell me your woes while we drink away the memories?"

He did want to help her for saving him. He's still shocked she found him again. She had teary eyes and called him a good man, when was the last time anyone said anything positive to him? He helped her up again and steadied her.

"Ah, I'm not that good, but thank you. And sure, I'd love to toss him down there. Then you can remind him of all the ways he's hurt you when you use it as a latrine." He took her arm to wrap around his shoulders, using her a bit for balance and letting her use him.

"Come, let's head back to town."