by Jon Athan
Ed glanced at the kitchen archway and asked, “You find anything for him?”
A rustling bag could be heard from the kitchen. The bag was filled with supplies and clothing scavenged from their victims.
Kat shouted, “Yeah! Give me a second!”
Ed turned towards Stanley and said, “Get yourself warmed up, boy. You don't want to freeze out here.” He chuckled, then he said, “Not around us, at least.”
Kat protruded her head from around the corner, simpering. Holding a pink thong with her fingertips, she asked, “Hey, sweetie, you think these will fit the boy?” Ed huffed and shook his head, Stanley nervously laughed. Kat smirked and said, “I don't know, I think they'd look good on him.”
Ed smiled and said, “Stop messing around and get him something comfortable, Kat. I know you'd love to devour the boy, but he's not in the mood right now. Go on, woman, bring him something decent.”
“Okay, okay... These look comfortable, though...”
Kat giggled as she returned to the kitchen. Stanley leaned forward and rubbed his hands together, trying to produce more heat. Each cool breeze wafting through the shattered windows made him shudder. He figured he'd freeze before he dried off. As he gazed at the flames, he thought about the fire sparked in his home. The constant crackling and popping sounds were oddly soothing.
Kat strolled through the archway with a simple outfit. She tossed a pair of dilapidated black sneakers on the ground – better than nothing. She threw a pair of raggedy blue jeans and a red-and-white striped long sleeve shirt on the sofa. To finish the thrifty outfit, she gently laid a red windbreaker jacket beside Stanley.
Kat placed her hands on her hips and said, “Well, there you go. It's actually not bad. I think it'll fit and it'll look good on you, hun. Now, I couldn't find any underwear in there, so you're out of luck. Well, you can always wear that thong if you want.”
As Kat giggled, Stanley stared at the windbreaker jacket. The rest of the clothing was insignificant, only the vibrant red jacket caught his eye. He rubbed the garment with his fingertips, contemplating the past. Richie's jacket, he thought, does she know it's his jacket? He swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head. Although the jacket caused a surge of bittersweet memories, he decided to shrug off his thoughts.
Under his breath, Stanley whispered, “It's nothing...”
Ed tapped Stanley's shoulder and said, “Go ahead and get dressed. I'll find you some underwear soon. Hell, I'll go buy you some if we can't find any.” Stanley nodded as he slipped into his jeans. As the teenager dressed himself, Ed said, “I want you to understand something, boy. I'm proud of you. You have... evolved faster than most people. I mean, it takes some people decades to realize they're enslaved. It takes them a few more decades to actually free themselves. And, by the time they're free, they're as good as dead. You accomplished more at your young age than most people rotting in the ground. I'm fucking proud of you, boy.”
As she leered at his lean body, Kat said, “Yeah. You're a tough, smart young man, Stanley. No matter what anyone says, you did good. They can try to make you the bad guy, but you did nothing wrong. Remember that, sweetie.”
I'm proud of you – Stanley had never heard those words from his own father. He nodded, accepting the praise and advice. He smiled as he glanced down at himself. The shirt was too long and the jeans were loose. He didn't bother to try on the sneakers. From a mere glance, the shoes looked at least one size too large. He wasn't going to pose on the cover of a magazine, but at least he was clothed.
Stanley asked, “Can I... Can I stay here with you guys from now on?” He rubbed the nape of his neck, anxious. He explained, “I really don't have anywhere else to go. My family's gone, the house is gone, my best friend is gone... I don't know what I'm going to do by myself. I don't think I can survive.”
Ed responded, “You're part of the family. Of course you can stay with us. I mean, shit, you can stay as long as you want. You won't be by yourself, boy.”
“Really?”
“You have my word.”
Kat smiled and said, “You have our word. We're not going to abandon you like the rest of the world. Hell, I'm definitely not going to leave you behind. We were meant to be together. Our paths were meant to collide. Some people got hurt in that crash, but we survived and we'll continue to survive together. We're family.”
Ed patted the wrinkles on Stanley's shirt, trying to iron the garment with his rough hand. Although the family resided in the woods, he wanted the boy to appear presentable. He wanted him to respect himself and his home. Regardless of clothing, though, Stanley felt more at home than ever before. He felt accepted – he finally felt loved.
As he gazed into the teenager's glimmering eyes, Ed said, “You're a new man with a new family. I'm proud to call you my son, Stanley.”
Stanley smiled from ear-to-ear, glowing with joy. He whispered, “A new family...”
Stanley stumbled forward, wrapping his arms around Ed's body and planting his face on his chest. Ed smiled as he softly patted the boy's shoulder. Kat, feeling compelled to join, refused to be left out. Eyes swelling with tears, she embraced Ed and Stanley. The family painted a portrait of extreme violence, mental madness, and genuine love.
Chapter Fifteen
Gone Fishing
Stanley trailed Ed in the woodland, watching his 'father' with narrowed eyes. He watched the lean man, admiring each nonchalant stride. The man wore filthy brown pants, a tattered red flannel shirt, and begrimed brown boots. Yet, in the teenager's eyes, Ed shined through the filth as a charming and caring man. The only anomaly was the fishing rod slung over his shoulder.
Due to the limited supply, Stanley did not have a rod for himself. Along with his inability to play sports, he didn't know how to fish. He didn't think Ed knew how to fish, either. The pair were simply bonding. Although it was not the goal, they wouldn't complain if they could catch some fish and master the art of fishing.
Ed glanced over his shoulder and asked, “You hear that?”
Stanley stopped and tilted his head, like if the slight movement would hone his hearing. He could hear a moaning tree, a rustling bush, and a cawing bird. His eyes widened upon hearing the clashing water – the creek.
Stanley said, “We're close.”
“You're damn right. Come on, boy, let's see what we can do with this pole.”
The pair stumbled upon the local creek, which was located only a few miles away from the abandoned house. The roaring river flowed freely, crashing on the rocks. The creek reminded Stanley of his birthday a few days prior. He reminisced about the good times. Particularly, he thought about the funnel cake and the innocent child he pummeled. The wicked thoughts became normal – he was unperturbed.
The pair shoved their pants up to their kneecaps, then they stepped into the creek. The water was refreshing and cool. Fish of all shapes and sizes swam downstream, dodging the two intruders. Stanley watched their majestic movements with a twinkle in his eye. Humanity may have abandoned him, but he could still see the beauty in nature.
Ed said, “Let's see if we can catch a bass or something out here. I'm sure I saw some... some edible fish last time we crossed.” He wrestled with the rod, then he flung the string. The hook dangled as the line became tangled. Ed smiled and said, “If we can't catch 'em with this piece of crap, I'll do it with my bare hands.”
Stanley smirked as he watched Ed's attempts at fishing – he was similarly inept at outdoor activities. He joked, “I think we're better off catching them with our hands.”
“Yeah, yeah. You go ahead and try that, but I'm going to keep messing with this...”
As he stared at a large fish, Stanley asked, “How long have you been around here, Ed? I mean, how have you been surviving?”
“Shit, I've lost track. We've been around for maybe a year or two. We've done some good and we've done some bad. To be blunt, son, we've done everything you can imagine and more to survive. And, I don't feel bad about any of it. I know Ka
t feels the same way.”
“Were you born around here?”
“No, no. I was born out there somewhere. I don't remember which state. Somewhere down south, I suppose. It's a blur, but I remember bashing skulls in Texas when I was younger. I remember raping and killing in Southern California before I was eighteen. Boy, I even remember killing a few down in Mexico. Where am I from? Hell, I don't know. The moon, the ocean... I just don't know.”
Stanley stared at Ed, examining his ruminative demeanor. He couldn't tell if the man was lying about his past or if he were genuinely forgetful. The moon, the ocean, he thought, what is he talking about? He tried to decipher the explanation, but to no avail. The teenager figured there was a reason for Ed's secrecy. He didn't bother to pry.
Stanley said, “If you're not from around here, if you've been all over the place, does that mean you'll leave soon?”
As the hook finally plunged into the water, Ed said, “This isn't the first abandoned house we've called home. No, we're free spirits, remember? We can live anywhere we please. So, of course we'll have to leave in a few weeks. Might even be a few days. But, don't worry about that, Stanley. You can come with us. You're not going to be left behind.”
Stanley smiled, relieved. He asked, “If we leave, where will we go? I don't think there are any more abandoned houses in the city. The other ones are filled with hobos and drug addicts. It's a little scary...”
“You don't have to be scared because it won't come to that. We're free spirits, but we don't share. If some vagrant pieces of trash refuse to move, we'll cut them up and dump them in a river. You won't have to see them. It doesn't matter, though. There are always empty houses out there. If not, we can live like hobos on our own and live happily ever after as homeless people. A tent isn't hard to come by.”
“You want to live in a tent?”
“Sure. We've done it before. We can set up a little home anywhere with a tent. Shit, we can even live in someone's backyard as long as we pack before they wake. What do you think about that?”
As he stared at the fishing rod's hook in the water, Stanley shrugged and said, “It doesn't matter to me. I've never been camping before, but I'll go if you go. I just don't want to be left alone. That's all.”
Ed shook his head and said, “Like I said, son, we're never going to leave you behind. No way, no how. You're too important to us. We've always wanted a child. It's just... Kat, you know, she has some issues. I think she feels better with you around. It fills a hole, you know? It fills a big, deep hole...”
Ed's ambiguous mention of Kat's 'issues' was worrisome. Issues could range from physical to mental – and everything in-between. Stanley also decided not to pry into those issues. He would let them emerge naturally. Instead, he opted to feel euphoric. Filling a gap in the couple's lives made him feel useful. For the first time since his younger years, the teenager felt like an important part of a family.
***
Standing on the protruding rocks, Stanley and Ed glanced over at the woodland behind them. To their utter surprise, a man and a young teenager emerged from the forest – a father-son duo. The pair wore matching brown waders and gray long-sleeve shirts. They carried a water cooler and a fishing rod case. From their appearance to their tools, the couple clearly meant business.
The father chuckled as he strolled towards the murderous pair. He said, “It's a nice day for fishing, isn't it? My name is Paul Lew–”
Paul stopped before he could finish introducing himself. He gazed into Ed's eyes, then he stared down at his bare feet. He glanced at Stanley with a sneer of disgust. The expression was natural for a man like himself. He was a pretentious fisherman, enjoying the activity with the most expensive equipment.
To Paul, Ed and Stanley were mere poachers, hurting the environment and the image of the activity. In his case, he was more worried about his image than the environment. The inexperienced pair gave fishermen a bad name. He didn't want to be associated with the homeless killers. He didn't want to be anywhere near them.
Paul waved and said, “Never mind, fellas. Enjoy your day.” He turned towards his son and said, “Let's head upstream, David. I think we'll catch better fish.”
Stanley leaned back and examined the young teenager. David – the common name rang more bells than the Vatican on Christmas. He recognized the short and lean teenager. From the scruffy black hair to his dark brown eyes, he recognized David from high school. Did he recognize me?–Stanley thought.
As he watched the pair straggle away, Ed said, “These motherfuckers... These stupid motherfuckers. Did you see how he looked at us with those judgmental eyes? That's the way society reacts to people like us, people who have broken free from their chains. They hate us. They despise us. He thinks he's better than us... Don't ever believe that, Stanley. He isn't better than us. He isn't shit to us.”
Stanley said, “I think that kid goes to my school. I've seen him on campus before. I... I don't know if he recognized me, though.”
“Really? Well, that gives us more reason to teach them a lesson. They started this little confrontation, so we have to retaliate. You know what we have to do about this, right?”
“I don't...”
“We're going to finish the job. We're going to show them what the free and enlightened can accomplish. Let's do it this way: I handle the father and you handle the kid. How does that sound? What do you say to a good old father-son slaughtering?”
Stanley smiled from ear-to-ear. He said, “Okay, sure. I think I can do that.”
“Good, good. Here's what we're going to do. You go talk to your little friend. Talk about homework or some bullshit like that. Then, I want you to start a fight with him. Push him, hit him, do something. I'm going to go hide in the woods. When this 'Paul' punk tries to break up your little fight, I'll handle him. Don't try to kill that boy until you see me, okay?”
Stanley eagerly nodded – his excitement for murder was blatant. He said, “Yeah, I understand. Can we do it now?”
Grinning, Ed gently slapped the teenager and said, “Alright, go on. You can do this, son.”
***
With a jolly smile plastered on his face, Stanley approached the snobby father-son pair. He lunged on the rocks, keeping his bare feet out of the water. His mind raced with a dozen ideas – thoughts of chatter and massacre. He sought the perfect conversation starter. What's going on at school? How's Mark doing?
Stanley waved and said, “Hey, David. How's it going?”
David's smile was wiped off his face upon hearing Stanley's tender voice. He glanced at his classmate with a furrowed brow, then he turned towards his father. Paul shook his head and gave his son a cold shoulder. The haughty man was embarrassed of his son and his relationships.
David frowned as he turned back towards Stanley. He said, “Hey, Stanley. What are you doing here?”
Stanley said, “Not much, really. We were just trying to catch some fish.”
David glanced over Stanley's shoulder – Ed had vanished. He asked, “Who was that man you were with?”
“Huh? Oh, he's just a family friend. He was trying to teach me how to fish. He's teaching me about the outdoors, you know? No big deal. So, how's it going at school? Did Mark come back yet?”
“No. I think he has to stay home now. I guess he'll be back in a few days or weeks. I don't know. Actually, where have you been? I thought I heard something about you the other day... You and your house... You live over on Manzanita, right? Wasn't there a fire around there? Was your place burned, too?”
Stanley chuckled as he rubbed the nape of his neck. He said, “No, I don't know what you're talking about. Besides, I haven't been home in a few days. I've been out here with my uncle. I'll go back home soon and we'll see if there was a fire. I–”
David interrupted, “I thought he was a family friend?”
“A family friend, an uncle, what's the difference? He's family, he's a friend. That doesn't matter to you, though. You hear me, bitch?”
Da
vid furrowed his brow and stuttered, “Wha–What? What did you say?”
“You heard me, you little faggot.”
Paul glared at Stanley and sternly said, “Watch your damn mouth, boy. Don't you ever talk to my family like that again or I'll–”
Paul's petty threat was insignificant – a garble of noise. From his graying hair to his delicate figure, the old man posed no threat to Stanley. He could ramble on and on about what he'd do, but it did not matter. With the plan set in motion, Stanley was convinced Paul wouldn't have the opportunity to retaliate anyway. Can a dead man fight back?
Stanley shoved David with all of his might. David slipped, hurtling towards the ground like a falling tree – timber! The back of his head collided with a sturdy rock. Blood oozed from a laceration on his dome, staining the stone before the water washed it away. Paul gasped, shocked by the attack. He watched as his son convulsed in the water.
Stanley smirked and whispered, “Oops...”
Paul stuttered, “Da–David, are... are you okay? Jesus Christ...” He glared at Stanley with puffy eyes, trembling from the rage boiling within. He shouted, “What did you do?! What the hell did you do, you piece of shit?!”
As Paul rushed towards the teenager with his arms extended forward, ready to strangle him on a whim, Ed tackled the old man from behind. The pair landed safely away from the dangerous rocks. Ed punched and kicked Paul, pummeling him without mercy. Paul tried to stand, but he found himself pushed down into the water with each devastating blow.
As he beat the snobby father, Ed glanced at Stanley and said, “Finish the job. Drown that boy, Stanley.”
Stanley was happy to oblige. He dragged his classmate off the rock, then planted his knees on his back. David's entire body was submerged in the creek. The blood leaking from his head stained the water like an oil spill. The teenager weakly flailed his limbs as he tried to stand, but to no avail. Water pouring into his lungs and blood gushing from his head, he couldn't escape the clutches of death.