conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Among, Jamie, Bulger with the genre: Law, Criminal Law?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'The Jigsaw Man'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first five paragraphs for this book
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Jigsaw Man
  Vivid images of his family flash helter-skelter through his confused mind, rapid-fire snapshots of recent days and years long past. Emma and Jacob smiling on their wedding day, her white dress badly wrinkled from sneaking out of the party for a quickie in the barn loft...Holding little Emily in his arms last year, joy etched on his face at having fathered such a beautiful child so late in life...His oldest son Josh spitting out a mouthful of thick, syrupy blood after Jacob smashed his face against the dining room wall, two front teeth still stuck in the otherwise smooth plaster surface...Proudly walking hand in hand with the two boys when they were little, heading to their favorite fishing hole in the woods...Christmas day five or six years ago and Jacob dressed in a red Santa hat, merrily dancing around the brightly lit tree...Plunging a fork into Jack's throat to shut up his youngest son and finally stop the whiny little bastard's screaming...Using his body to hold Emma down as he sawed through the wrist bones of her left arm with a rusty hacksaw...
  These images and more swirling out of the dark abyss his consciousness has become. Part of him is sickened by these vivid memories, making him long for better days, but part of him also rejoices, reveling in the blood, torture, and pain. Death has come to the small Canadian town of Dunnville, and madness is Jacob's only companion now.
  He turns from the mailbox to gaze toward the house at the end of the gravel drive. The Harrison farmhouse is a large two-story wooden box with a covered porch tacked on the side facing the road. There's a floodlight on the porch, but it's unlit. In fact, none of the lights in the house are burning, the visible windows as black as Jacob's murderous mood. Devoid of life now but not empty of occupants. Jacob's family is still there--most parts of them, anyway--keeping a quiet vigil along with the gathering flies, waiting patiently for his return.
  He's forgotten about Emily. Sweet little Emily, who until recently has been the light of his life. How long has she been left alone, lying in darkness, in filth, amid the slowly rotting bits and pieces of the family she'd never know? Jacob doesn't know the answer to this question, and the weight of the shame that washes over him brings him to his knees. His mind is clear for the first time in months, crystal clear, but the dementia returns almost immediately, clamping down on him like a steel-toothed bear trap. A war rages within him, an internal battle between good and evil, sanity and oblivion, life and death.
  Thirty seconds later, Jacob Harrison regains his feet and begins walking toward the porch. He's dragging the axe behind him, cleaving a thin groove in the gravel as he approaches the stairs. There is no emotion on his face, no pictures racing through his thoughts. He's a man on a mission now, his decision unalterable, knowing exactly what must be done.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: five more paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Johnny could see a fat juicy leech squirming on the ground a few inches from his mother's brightly painted big toenail. Johnny didn't want her to see the sucker and possibly make the connection with the blood on his legs. It wouldn't take a genius to find a few other leeches and notice the suction marks on his legs. Thankfully, just before the leech reached his mother's toe she wheeled away, dragging him toward the house.
  Johnny nodded, his solemn expression breaking into a grin the second his mother turned her great expansive rear toward him. Happy again, he quickly headed up the stairs and into the bath. He wanted to be ready when his friends arrived.
  The creature at the bottom of the well was happy too. As the blood-bloated leeches drifted down through the murky water, it snatched them out of the darkness, stuffing its mouth. Its razor-sharp fangs easily sliced into the soft tender flesh of the leeches, sending gushes of blood into and down its rotting throat like it was eating ripe, juicy, orange slices.
  As the creature enjoyed its "breakfast," it sent its mind's eye into the house again. It was pleased to find out Johnny's friends were still coming over. It was even happier when it found out that Johnny, who was undressing to take his bath, was only now discovering that one repulsively fat leech had crawled up his shorts and attached itself to the bottom of his scrotum.
  Pete promised he'd try, then hurried back to the bathroom. He paused to gaze at his reflection in the mirror, trying once more to wet down a stubborn cowlick at the back of his head. Pete had the same dark curly hair as his father, and could never keep his wild locks in check. No matter how much spit he put on it, the cowlick sprang right back up.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last five paragraphs. Start with the sentence 'The wrestling match ended with Tom pinning Pete to the ground and making him take his last comment back'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The wrestling match ended with Tom pinning Pete to the ground and making him take his last comment back. Pete did, and Tom rolled off him onto the grass. All four boys lay down to catch their breath. The common act of scrapping around in the grass had helped everyone relax and dispel most of David, Tom, and Pete's fear. This wasn't Jacob Harrison's farm--it was Johnny's. Nothing bad was going to happen to them here. This unspoken assurance seemed to pass between them and together they laughed away the rest of their doubts and fears.
  Pete eventually asked, "Well, what are we going to do? I'm not gonna have to rough you guys up all day, am I?"
  Pete considered restarting the fight, but realized Tom was probably right. Instead, he turned to Johnny and said, "It's your house, kiddo; you make the call."
  All eyes turned toward Johnny and for the first time he realized he had no idea what they would do. He had so much else on his mind this morning, it never occurred to him to make plans. An idea surfaced in his head that seemed to come from nowhere. One second his mind was completely blank--the next, he knew exactly what to do. It was very strange.
  He turned and led the small troop around the side of the weather-beaten farmhouse and past the large willow tree that grew outside his bedroom window. Without really knowing why, Johnny led his new friends into the backyard. He was marching them straight out toward the deep, murky well.