so clay had taken care of it , looking away into the corner of the room as he wrenched it free , trying not to think about what he was doing or why it was stuck so fucking tight , and mostly he had succeeded in not thinking , but the pen had made a grinding sound against the bone of the old man 's eyesocket when it finally let go , and there had been a loose , gobbety plopping sound as something fell from the bent tip of the pen 's steel nib onto the blotter .