riverrun Vol. 47

Not a peep from the boy was heard, but it was obvious that the starved fowl were
having their way with him, for they too were silent as they fed. Every once in a
while, the snapping of bone was heard as they consumed the boy’s marrow.
Reaching the house, the father grabbed himself a beer and took his place at his
favorite chair. He did not open his drink, he did not read his favorite novel, he did
not turn on the television. He just sat, his face as blank as when the events had
first begun. He did not blink, for his eyes would not allow it. There was a change
in the air and with the thunder subsiding, the father’s eyes finally closed.
When his eyes opened, he uncontrollably bent over and vomited on the rug. In a
panic, he stood. His body was shaking so badly that it took a tremendous effort to
maintain his balance. “Honey!” he shouted. “Honey, where are you!” He looked
outside at the darkness of night. Thursday morning had become Thursday night,
and the father had not a clue what had happened in between.
The man’s wife peeked around the corner from the kitchen and timidly walked
into the room. The father, still barely able to stand, tripped forward and collapsed
onto the end table, knocking its contents onto the carpet. Recomposing himself,
he once again turned to his wife. She stared at him like he was not from this
earth, and he held a similar sentiment. “Where’s Andrew?” He stepped towards
her. She responded with a flow of tears. “Honey, what the hell is goin’ on?
WHERE’S ANDREW!” He grabbed both her shoulders firmly in his hands. Unable
to speak, she pointed behind her husband towards the direction of the barn.
Confused, the father released her and sprinted to the barn. Swinging the doors
open, he collapsed at what he saw.
The remains of the boy were nearly unrecognizable. His flesh had been separated
from his body, and his limbs were completely mangled. Not a single hen nor rooster
was in sight, but this was a fact that went unnoticed by the now guilt stricken
father. The man collapsed in front of his son and took his corpse into his arms. He
cried so hard that snot and tears accumulated into puddles at his knees.
Sounds of sirens approached from the distance, and the man held onto his boy,
the boy he had loved since birth and who was now gone forever.
~
The taxi slid on the dirt road leading up to a familiar house, a house of tragedy
and death. The sonless father stepped out of the car and paid the driver. The taxi
sped off, leaving him alone in front of the house.
He felt a cold sweat come over him; he knew this moment would come, but that
did not mean he was ready for it. He saw movement behind the curtains, and he
knew he was being watched. His wife had not visited him in over 15 years, and
the father began to panic at the idea of seeing her after all this time. Three deep
breaths, fiddling with his jacket zipper, and a bloated moment was what it took
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