axe, nearly decapitating herself.
Richard clapped, pleased with what he’d accomplished. “I’m brilliant. Whoopee, I am brilliant! I am fucking brilliant!”
He went back inside, picked up the apple pie, which was still warm, and sliced a piece. After eating the tasty treat, he turned on the television and propped his feet up on her sofa. He took a nap. Creature comforts, how liberating!
Uncle James’s screaming shattered the silence. He ran inside looking like a crazed man as Richard rubbed his eyes, and stretched.
“What happened? What have you done?” James yelled.
“What are you talking about?” Richard yawned.
“Your aunt! What did you do to her?”
“I didn’t do anything.” Richard walked out the door pretending to know nothing. “Oh shit! What in the . . .”
“You didn’t know?” Uncle James turned away from Aunt Valerie.
Richard could see his uncle’s whole body shaking, as he leaned against the wall. He thought James would’ve been happy to be rid of her. “God no. Of course not!” Richard shook his head vehemently. “Aunt Valerie told me to go catch the turkey, but the darn thing kept getting away. So she got mad as usual, and said she’d do it herself. I came in and turned on the TV. I must’ve fallen asleep. I kinda had a headache.”
“You didn’t hear anything? Not the turkey, no screaming?” Uncle James pointed his finger toward the yard.
“No, sir. Nothing.”
Uncle James—the man Richard now knew was his father—stared at him hard, as if studying him for the first time. Richard did not recognize this look, and his palms became clammy, as he cocked his head from side to side, popping his neck.
“Do you know what this looks like, Richard?” Tears welled in his father’s eyes.
Richard was confused and started pacing the floor. “It looks like she tripped and fell on the axe. If that’s what you’re asking me.”
James walked inside and collapsed on the sofa, his face in his hands. He shook his head and rubbed his temples for a few minutes as tears streamed down his face. When he looked up with reddened eyes, he said, “I can’t believe you would do this. I know she was awful to you, but she took you in, and what you’ve done is damned horrible. I don’t think I know you, son. You killed my wife!” he yelled.
“What the hell are you saying?” Richard continued to pace, throwing his arms up in the air, as his anger consumed him, making anything possible. Anger was power. And at this moment, the anger fueling him was coming from his very own flesh-and-blood father.
“Don’t act stupid. I’ve loved you. I cared for you. I’ve done everything for you that I could, but I know there are things you hide—terrible things. I know about your animals, and God, I wanted to talk to you and ask you why, and try to help you. I hoped that you’d stop it all—but this! This is madness—you’ve killed your aunt!”
Richard knew that he couldn’t continue to lie. His father had it figured out, and if he did, so would the police. So he formulated a plan. “For good reason,” Richard said. “If I were you,” he shook his finger at him, “I’d be thanking me.”
“Oh, Richard, no!”
James sobbed and Richard watched him like a baffled child. He didn’t like seeing his father crying with such agony, but at the same time he was angry and shocked, too. The room was still except for his father’s sobs. The apple pie on the counter suddenly smelled sweetly putrid to Richard, turning his stomach sour.
James’s next words chilled Richard. “I know you were the reason that little girl went missing a few years ago.”
Richard glanced at him. His body went cold. He wanted to cry. The sourness in his stomach worsened and hurt so bad he thought he might puke.
“I also know what you did with her. I found ashes in the oven the night after she’d gone missing, and I knew we hadn’t used the oven for some time—and I knew you’d cleaned it when we had. I
Richard clapped, pleased with what he’d accomplished. “I’m brilliant. Whoopee, I am brilliant! I am fucking brilliant!”
He went back inside, picked up the apple pie, which was still warm, and sliced a piece. After eating the tasty treat, he turned on the television and propped his feet up on her sofa. He took a nap. Creature comforts, how liberating!
Uncle James’s screaming shattered the silence. He ran inside looking like a crazed man as Richard rubbed his eyes, and stretched.
“What happened? What have you done?” James yelled.
“What are you talking about?” Richard yawned.
“Your aunt! What did you do to her?”
“I didn’t do anything.” Richard walked out the door pretending to know nothing. “Oh shit! What in the . . .”
“You didn’t know?” Uncle James turned away from Aunt Valerie.
Richard could see his uncle’s whole body shaking, as he leaned against the wall. He thought James would’ve been happy to be rid of her. “God no. Of course not!” Richard shook his head vehemently. “Aunt Valerie told me to go catch the turkey, but the darn thing kept getting away. So she got mad as usual, and said she’d do it herself. I came in and turned on the TV. I must’ve fallen asleep. I kinda had a headache.”
“You didn’t hear anything? Not the turkey, no screaming?” Uncle James pointed his finger toward the yard.
“No, sir. Nothing.”
Uncle James—the man Richard now knew was his father—stared at him hard, as if studying him for the first time. Richard did not recognize this look, and his palms became clammy, as he cocked his head from side to side, popping his neck.
“Do you know what this looks like, Richard?” Tears welled in his father’s eyes.
Richard was confused and started pacing the floor. “It looks like she tripped and fell on the axe. If that’s what you’re asking me.”
James walked inside and collapsed on the sofa, his face in his hands. He shook his head and rubbed his temples for a few minutes as tears streamed down his face. When he looked up with reddened eyes, he said, “I can’t believe you would do this. I know she was awful to you, but she took you in, and what you’ve done is damned horrible. I don’t think I know you, son. You killed my wife!” he yelled.
“What the hell are you saying?” Richard continued to pace, throwing his arms up in the air, as his anger consumed him, making anything possible. Anger was power. And at this moment, the anger fueling him was coming from his very own flesh-and-blood father.
“Don’t act stupid. I’ve loved you. I cared for you. I’ve done everything for you that I could, but I know there are things you hide—terrible things. I know about your animals, and God, I wanted to talk to you and ask you why, and try to help you. I hoped that you’d stop it all—but this! This is madness—you’ve killed your aunt!”
Richard knew that he couldn’t continue to lie. His father had it figured out, and if he did, so would the police. So he formulated a plan. “For good reason,” Richard said. “If I were you,” he shook his finger at him, “I’d be thanking me.”
“Oh, Richard, no!”
James sobbed and Richard watched him like a baffled child. He didn’t like seeing his father crying with such agony, but at the same time he was angry and shocked, too. The room was still except for his father’s sobs. The apple pie on the counter suddenly smelled sweetly putrid to Richard, turning his stomach sour.
James’s next words chilled Richard. “I know you were the reason that little girl went missing a few years ago.”
Richard glanced at him. His body went cold. He wanted to cry. The sourness in his stomach worsened and hurt so bad he thought he might puke.
“I also know what you did with her. I found ashes in the oven the night after she’d gone missing, and I knew we hadn’t used the oven for some time—and I knew you’d cleaned it when we had. I
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