As they drove down the road to the suburban area of Brainerd, Elena looked over at Anton and asked him, "You nervous?"

Anton did not look at her or say anything, keeping himself in his own miserable silence.

Judging by the uncomfortable look in his eyes, Elena could tell instantly that he was not looking forward to meeting the Gundersons. She did not understand why Anton would be so afraid of meeting them. She had spoken to him about them several times and never gave him any reason to fear them. Perhaps he was not used to social interactions or maybe even thought it was too early for him to start meeting new people. Either way, Elena thought at the very least he should meet her family.

Focusing her gaze back onto the road, Elena tapped her fingers on the wheel and said to him, "There's nothing for you to worry about. Marge is a wonderful woman and Norm is just as nice as she is. In fact, the more I think about it, he's kind of like you. Doesn't show his emotions much, prefers to keep to himself. I think you two should get along just fine."

With that in mind, Anton looked over at her and said at last, "I will decide that for myself."

Elena pulled up to the side of the Gunderson house and they both got out of the car. Elena took a brown paper bag from the back seat and they both walked around to the front of the house, where a police car was parked up next to the front porch.

Stay calm, Anton told himself. Just act casual.

Elena knocked on the door and waited, until a woman in a floral dress opened the door and smiled at her. "Hiya, El!"

"Hi, Margie!"

Elena walked into the house and embraced her open arm around her cousin, who hugged her back in return. Anton stepped inside and shut the door behind him, as he looked upon the two giggling women's reunion.

"Oh, Marge, it's so good to see you", said Elena.

"It's great to see you too, El."

Marge released her cousin and looked over at Anton, her smile dropping at the sight of the tall stranger, as her eyes stared up at him in awe, unaware of his murderous trail and only seeing him as just another ordinary man, even if his appearance and pageboy haircut did seem strange to her eyes.

Putting on her friendly face once again, Marge smiled at Anton and said to him, "So, you must be the Texan fella El told me about, huh?"

"Marge Gunderson, I presume?" Anton asked her.

"Oh, yes, I'm Marge", she answered, nodding her head and extending her right hand to him.

Anton extended his right hand to her and took hold of it, gripping it firmly as he shook it.

Marge smiled amusingly at him and said, "That's quite a grip ya got on ya."

"Think nothing of it", Anton told her, releasing her hand.

Elena's face beamed with excitement upon seeing the two of them interact with each other, but it was too good to last, as Marge noticed Anton's left arm was in a sling and asked him, "How'd ya hurt your arm?"

The hitman looked at the lady cop for a minute and said nothing. His cold, dark brown eyes forbidding the calming affect of her ocean blue orbs to proceed any further with this conversation.

"What business is that of yours?" Anton snarked.

Elena's smile faded at his response. Hoping to distract her from his rude question, Elena turned to Marge and asked her, "Um, is Norm around, by any chance?"

"Oh, no, you just missed him", Marge answered her. "He went out to get the salad."

"Well, good thing I brought these steaks", said Elena, handing the bag to Marge.

"Thanks a bunch", said Marge. "I'll get started on these while you and your friend make yourselves at home."

Just as Marge walked away and into the kitchen, Elena turned her head left and glared at the hitman, giving him a warning sign with her beautiful turquoise eyes by giving him the same cold look he just gave to Marge.

"What?" Anton asked her innocently.

"There's Coke in the fridge if you guys want something to drink", Marge called out to them.

Elena turned her head away from Anton and walked towards the direction of the kitchen. "Actually, Marge, let me do the cooking. Last time we had steak, you ended up-"

While the two woman were busy in the kitchen, Anton took this as an opportunity to look through the house. Dinner would not be ready for at least a half hour.

Anton walked down the hall and turned towards the bathroom on the left. He opened the door and turned on the lightswitch, before he entered the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He stared begrudgingly at his reflection in the mirror, looking over how ridiculous he thought he looked in the red satin shirt. It was already bad enough he had a broken arm. Anton opened the medicine cabinet and looked through it, eying over the many pill bottles and over-the-counter products. He then shut the cabinet and looked to his right, looking down into the small metal trashcan next to the toilet. A pregnancy test had been thrown into the wastebasket, as the results showed to be negative.

Anton walked out of the bathroom and then went down towards the bedroom at the end of the hall. He stood in front of the door and listened for any sign of sound or voice. He heard nothing. He put his hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly before pushing it open. Anton looked around the room and found nothing but a bunch of canvases and jars filled with paintbrushes. He walked over to the bed and stared at it for a minute, before he pressed his right hand down on the mattress, testing the firmness of the bed. Anton turned around and walked over to a desk with a photo album lying on top of it. He opened a few pages until he found a picture of Elena. The date on the bottom right corner showed it to be from October last year. He removed the photo from its sleeve and tucked it into his pant pocket.

Meanwhile, Elena and Marge were busy in the kitchen preparing dinner. Elena cooked the steaks and helped set the table, while Marge made the eggs and mashed potatoes. Just as Elena was cutting up one of the steaks for Anton, the two female cousins heard the front door open. A balding man walked into the kitchen and greeted them.

"Hiya, Margie", he said.

"Hiya, hon", said Marge, as her husband walked over to her and placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Hi, Norm", said Elena, walking over to him.

Norm gave her a hug and said, "How you doing, Elena?"

"I'm good, thanks", said Elena.

Norm released her and handed her a plastic bag with a container in it. "Here's the salad", he said.

"Thank you much", said Elena, taking the bag from him. "Hey, Anton, I-" Just as she turned around, Elena saw Anton was standing right behind her and gasped in surprise. She did not even hear him approach her.

"Who's this?" Norm asked her.

Elena looked back at him, nervousness spreading through her veins. "Norm, this is Anton", she answered. "He's a patient of mine."

Anton extended his hand to Norm and asked him, "How do you do?"

"Hello", said Norm, shaking hands with him.

Judging by the lack of excitement or emotion on his face, Anton could see what Elena meant when she told him about Norm from earlier before. Stoic and quiet, Norm seemed like a passable man to the hitman's eyes. Unlike the instant hatred he felt for Marge, Anton held no contempt towards her husband and saw no threat from this unassuming man.

Elena and Anton sat opposite from Marge and Norm at the dinner table, as the four of them sat there together in silence, enjoying the meal. A full five minutes went by without conversation, and so far, the hitman felt himself at ease with the people around him. As long as the evening remained silent for the rest of the time he was there, Anton promised himself that they would have no trouble from the likes of him. But, of course, that was wishful thinking.

Elena wiped her mouth with a napkin and cleared her throat, before she turned her attention to Norm and asked him, "So, how's the painting coming along?"

"It's great, actually", Norm answered.

"Oh, yah", said Marge. "In fact, Norm did this painting of a blue jay just the other day, didn't ya, hon?"

"Yah", said Norm, cutting his steak with a fork and knife. "You ever do any painting, Anton?"

The hitman looked up from his plate and asked him, "Why would that interest me?"

"No reason", said Norm, putting a piece of steak into his mouth. "I just assume every man had a hobby, that's all."

"You mean coin collecting?"

"Yah, something like that", said Norm. "Personally, I prefer ice fishing, but that's only during the wintertime."

"You find time for that between work at the police station?" Anton asked him.

"Oh, I don't work for the police anymore", said Norm.

Anton turned his head left and looked at Elena. "I thought you said they were cops."

"Well, Marge is, but Norm retired the day after they were married", Elena explained to him, spooning a mouthful of salad into her mouth. "He's a wilderness painter now."

Anton said nothing and just stared at her, confused.

"So, El tells me you're from Texas", Marge said to him. "Bet ya see a lot of action down there, huh?"

The hitman glanced over at the lady cop with cold, dead eyes and asked her, "What business is that of yours?"

Marge paused for a minute and asked him, "Sir?"

"I said what business is that of yours", Anton repeated himself.

"Well, I just figured you'd be interested in telling us more about it, seeing as you're from there", said Marge. "Must be strange being a long ways from home, don't ya think?"

"I don't know. Is it?" Anton asked her, as he took a piece of steak and put it into his mouth, chewing slowly as he stared back at Marge in silence, ignoring her question. Although he was willing to put up with whatever sort of nonsensical conversation her husband had brought up, the hitman had no interest in conversing with the likes of the female police officer. He knew better than to give into answering personal questions about his private life to any random person, even if said question was innocent.

Elena looked at him nervously, as she tried swallowing the mashed potatoes that stuck in her throat and picked up her glass of water to help her wash it down.

"Sir, you have no right to be impolite with me", said Marge, calmly. "I just asked you if you've ever seen any action where you come from."

"I haven't seen any action since the war in Vietnam", said Anton. "Cambodia was just as bad."

Elena suddenly choked on her water, as she set the glass down and put a hand on her chest. She turned to Anton and asked him, "You were in Vietnam?! What were you doing there?"

Anton looked at Elena and said to her, "Combat medic."

Elena blinked in surprise and stared at him for a minute. "I beg your pardon?"

Norm and Marge looked at each other, before Norm turned his attention back to Anton and asked him, "What was it like there?"

Anton slowly turned his gaze back to the man sitting across from him and said, "Is that what you're asking me?"

"Yah", Norm answered.

Anton looked over at Marge, who stared back at him with wonder and a curiosity that equaled her husband's.

Without even looking down, Anton pushed his half-finished plate aside and turned his attention back to Norm. "I'm only going to say this once, so don't ask me to repeat myself again", he warned him. "When I was a boy, I always wanted to become a doctor like my father was before me, but then fate decided I would run a different path in life. Throughout most of my childhood, I read up on every single medical book I could get my hands on and read them over and over again, right down to memorizing the editor's home address. When I came of age, I studied to become a medic and enlisted myself in 1968. I thought I would be ready to face the horrors of the other side of the world then, but I was wrong. Everywhere I followed, death never stopped deciding the fates of those that deserved to die and those that didn't. The violence was nothing compared to the rotting corpses I witnessed being scattered across the foreign soils like livestock in a slaughterhouse. For a long time, I had become so accustomed to the likes of the war, that the question still remained on deciding what the difference was between cattle and men. Even when I got out in 1975, death still followed me like a hungry beast drawn to the taste of blood. You do not want to know what it was like there."

Marge and Norm looked at each other after a long pause, both astounded and horrified at the disturbing details of Anton's Vietnam story, before Elena interrupted the silence and asked him, "But the war in Nam ended five years ago, didn't it?"

Anton turned his head left and looked at her. "What year were you born, Elena?"

"1956", Elena answered.

"Then you were barely a seedling when the war in Vietnam had already been going on for approximately one year", said Anton. "My childhood was already over by that time, I just didn't know it yet."

There was a short pause between the nurse and the hitman.

"Do you not know how long the war went on?" Anton asked her.

Elena shook her head and told him, "I don't really remember exactly. I mean, I was-"

"Early November 1955 to late April 1975. 19 years, 5 months, and 8 days later, the war ended. 58,000 Americans perished. And for what? Nothing."

Elena felt both confused and entranced by the level of history and knowledge this man so-proudly possessed, but there was definitely something about the way he described his experiences in Vietnam that made her wonder if this is what had caused Anton to trigger some of his rude behaviors and odd tactics.

After dinner, Norm and Anton went and sat down in the living room, watching a wilderness documentary on birds on the television. Neither one of them spoke or talked to each other, which seemed to work in both of their favors.

Meanwhile, Marge and Elena were both in the kitchen, putting away the food and washing the dishes.

Elena was busy drying a plate with a dishrag, when she looked over her right shoulder and asked her cousin, "So, what do you think of him?"

Marge opened the door to the refrigerator and put a container of food inside, as she said to Elena, "He doesn't say much, I'll give ya that." She then closed the door and asked, "Does he ever smile?"

Elena turned around, drying another plate, and said, "Not that I've ever noticed. At least, not around me, he doesn't."

"Well, I'll tell ya one thing, El", said Marge, smiling. "He certainly is a tall fella, ain't he?"

Elena smiled embarrassingly, blushing in the process. She lowered her eyes and asked Marge, "Is it that obvious?"

Marge nodded in agreement and asked her, "You like his hair?"

Elena sighed dreamily and answered, "I love his hair."

"Yah", said Marge. "Kinda like those boy bands ya like so much."

"Well, he's not exactly Malcolm Young, but I think he's handsome enough", said Elena, as she walked over to Marge and handed her the dishrag, trading spots with her. Marge walked over to the sink and finished the rest of the dishes, while Elena finished putting away the food into containers.

"So, what happened to his arm, ya know?" Marge asked her.

Elena put the last of the food into the refrigerator and closed the door. "Well, he wouldn't tell me exactly, but I think he was involved in a car accident", said Elena.

Marge turned her head and asked her, "Oh, yah?"

Elena picked up another rag and wiped the dining table with it, as she explained to Marge, "He didn't want to talk about it."

"You think he's hiding somethin'?" Marge asked her.

Elena set the rag aside and placed her hands on the table, letting out a deep sigh. "I don't know, Marge."

Marge turned her attention back to the dishes and said to Elena, "Well, hope he's not like the last guy that tried to stab you to death."

Elena looked to her right towards the direction of the living room, making sure neither Anton or Norm heard them. Both men were occupied and paid the women no attention. Elena then turned around and looked back at Marge. "Do you think I should tell him?"

Marge turned around and looked at her cousin with curious eyes. "You mean he doesn't know?"

"Does he have to know?" Elena whispered.

"Why not?" Marge asked her in a low voice. "He seems harmless enough. He might be a bit handicapped at the moment, but once his arm gets better, maybe you could hire him as a bodyguard."

Elena looked at her confused, as she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "What would I need a bodyguard for?"

"Well, Elena, I just get so worried about you being out there all alone by yourself", said Marge.

Although he held no interest in what they were doing, Anton caught the faint voices of Elena speaking to Marge and turned his head right, wondering what is was they where saying to each other. Whether the two women were talking about him or not, he couldn't tell. All Anton Chigurh knew was that if that feeble-minded Marge Gunderson thought she could trust him, she was surely mistaken.

Not too long after, Elena and Anton left the Gunderson house and headed back to Elena's home. As per usual, neither one of them spoke much for most of the drive, until Elena broke the silence. "So, what did you think of them?"

Anton paused for a minute and noted, "The husband doesn't say much."

"See? I told you so."

Anton looked at Elena and asked her, "What does he see in her exactly?"

Elena laughed at his question and said, "Are you kidding me? Norm loves everything about Marge. Her personality, her optimism, her bravery. The whole package deal, really."

"And they have no children?" Anton questioned.

"Well, they've been trying to have a baby, but so far, they haven't had much luck", Elena admitted, a hint of sadness in her voice. She let out a sigh and said, "Still, Norm loves Marge and Marge loves him and that's all that matters, right?"

Anton said nothing else and just stared at Elena for a minute, before he looked away from her. A certain melancholic expression casted itself upon his face, one that held both a sense of tragedy and sorrow, as a series of memories came back to haunt him, piercing his heart that he had hoped would remain ice cold for the remainder of his life due to the many sad and lonely years of a parent-less childhood.

The first memory that came to Anton's mind was back to a time when he was a little boy barely the age of five, as he sat in his father's office at the hospital and allowed him to listen to his heartbeat with a stethoscope. His young innocent self smiling up at his father, while his father smiled back at him in return. The second memory was about young Anton and his mother, as she picked up the little boy that was him and held him in her arms so he could stroke the mane of the family horse, a white Spanish stallion. The third memory was also about his mother, as she sat under a tree wearing a summer dress and laughed, as she watched her young son playing with some ducklings near a pond. The fourth and final memory showed young Anton being hugged and kissed by his father, as father and son exchange a simple conversation in Spanish.

"Te amo, Papi."

"Yo tambien te quiero, hijo."

Lost in his own thoughts, Anton Chigurh was not even aware that Elena was staring at him until he heard her speak.

"Anton? Are you all aright?"

Anton blinked and looked at her for a brief second, before he looked away again and said softly, "Of course."

"What were you thinking about?" Elena asked him.

Anton paused for a minute and said to her in a monotone voice, "A bad memory."

Elena looked away from him and focused her attention back onto the road. The way he answered her question made her wish she hadn't said anything to him at all. He truly was a troubled man.