Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse

The farm had already began to sing its awakening from the night, even before the sun was finished rising. A rooster screeched rhythmically, the cows were baying, the pigs were stomping for their gruel. The boy smiled as he arose. He knew that today was his favorite day of the week and would have to rush to get all of his chores completed before he could go. He fed the animals first, and began to peel potatoes in the kitchen. He watched the slices of skin fall onto his bare feet. He liked the clammy feeling they left as he kicked them off.

His mother greeted him with a kiss on the head, then she began heating a pot of water. They shared a discussion about the previous night’s storm and how they would have to ensure their fences were not damaged. The boy tentatively brought up a guard dog again, to prevent future fox and wolf attacks. The mother reprimanded him, and no more conversation was had until the boy’s father entered the room to eat breakfast. Reminded to fetch the morning advertising before dashing off, the boy said his goodbyes. He was still applying his scarf when joined by his best mate, their course already determined. The docks were ahead of them, and they could already see the sails of the first ships approaching.

—

“If you call his name... THREE TIMES... he will be there. And you’ll never have to see your baby sister, again. It’s that easy, you’ll get your parents to pay attention.”

The words echoed loudly in Adrian’s mind. He was walking home and making sure to crunch every leaf on the sidewalk in his path. They call it Fall and he called it LeafSmash Season. He felt awful for telling his friend Jacob that he hated his little sister. She wasn’t a bad sister, and actually a lot nicer than Daniel’s older sister, who yelled at them to stay off the computer and out of her bedroom. The problem wasn’t even his little sister’s fault. It was his parent’s fault. They weren’t being nice to each other anymore, and the baby seemed to make it only worse. He wanted her to go away, so he could convince his parents how great it was, before all the baby crap.

Jacob had watched a scary movie the night before, his parents didn’t seem to care that it wasn’t good for kids his age to watch bad stuff before bedtime. Jacob bragged at school a lot about the movies and tv shows he was able to watch, but he also would cry and wet the bed a lot which is something only Jacob and Jacob’s parents had to deal with, most of the time. Which is why he was always bothering Adrian, whose parents would quietly put a lining under the bed before they passed out, and whose mom would comfort him softly with words of encouragement through the bad dreams. It seemed at first, Jacob was impressing the kids with how he could watch grown up shows, but now it was just annoying. Except Adrian didn’t know how to get Jacob to understand that.

Adrian thought about his mom. She was so considerate. He couldn’t tell her that, he worried she would cry. She always cried now. It was getting annoying, because school just started and the homework was already confusing for him. And now, this stupid baby was always loud and needy. He just wanted his mom to help him with homework again. His dad would always let him help before with the yard work and fixing the motorcycles that came through, but now it seemed like he wasn’t allowed to be outside anymore. He missed his dad asking for help, and the biker’s noticing him hanging out. It made him feel cool and manly.

Everything at their house was now covered with baby toys and books. He was bored of reading the books to his sister, and she always wanted him to read the same one, again and again. He was even bored of his own books and action figure sets. He wanted new things for Christmas which seemed so far away now. He thought about writing his Christmas list, but remembered his homework. Adjusting the lights over his desk, he reclined in his gaming chair and hit a button on the remote.

A strange black and white revolving picture played with loud static. Adrian squinted at the brightness of the TV and tried to understand what happened to make it malfunction. Trying another button with no reaction, the scene changed abruptly; A large head with molded skin and green strings of hair was looking down,

“Having trouble with the living?”

A deep voice ruptured the silence, making Adrian jump and drop the remote. He looked down for it, and the damned cat ran across his foot. He about pissed himself. That’s when he realized the TV hadn’t said anything more. He slowly looked up, realizing the man in the television was looking up with his motion. He couldn’t stop himself- and looked straight into the face of the man, his chest heaving back and forth violently, as his anxiety felt the full force of this nightmare.

The man had sunken holes, eyeballs pushing his blue-green skin into them, dirt was smeared and clawed around them.

The man’s mouth cruelly grinned back at Adrian’s gaping, terrified expression, only his teeth were cut crooked and everything, including his lips, were tinted green and black. It was as if the man had a diet of dirt and sewage. That’s when Adrian realized- he could smell the sewage. And he understood in horror, and the man chuckled softly in response; if he could smell the man and the man could see him, this man could get him, too.

“Relax, kid. I’m here to help you.” The voice was soft, and cold. Adrian fainted.

—

Adrian woke up scratching his junk inside of his pants. The room was still dark, as it was outside. There must not have been much time that passed from his weird dream. He looked at his feet and saw he was laying on his bed, still in his school clothes. Standing up, he looked at his self in the mirror. His sandy blonde hair was a sweaty mess. He tried to fix it quickly with his fingertips and looked around in confusion.

His room was cool by any kid’s standards. He had whatever posters he wanted, and added his own artwork wherever he could. For 2 years, Adrian enjoyed the attic’s solitude and peacefulness. It allowed him to play music without bothering anyone else(especially his baby sister) and most particularly, gave him space to draw. His sister loved to grab his papers and rip them apart, he wasn’t allowed to yell at her because she was a baby, but it seemed like his mom stopped caring that it was so important to him. She used to ask to see what he drew and would make sure his dad also made a big deal about it. The drawings sometimes ended up in their office room, where their college degrees and trophies lined the shelves. It made him feel so smart. He didn’t even want to draw anymore, if he didn’t love how much it took his anger away.

He decided he would add onto his Christmas list more drawing pencils, and an easel. Like the fancy ones he saw on a tv show. That’s when he remembered his dream more clearly, and wondered how the remote had ended up on his gaming chair, or how he had woke up on the bed. He didn’t remember taking his shoes off, he always kicked them across the floor- to his laundry pile. Except when he woke up, they were placed neatly at the foot of his bed. For a ten year old, he wasn’t very orderly and it was usually his mother’s biggest complaint about him. He never could clean up after himself enough without her finding something else to do. She seemed to find a challenge in making a new chore every evening for him. Tonight was dishes, if he remembered correctly. He started down the stairs and heard his mom already calling his name.

Great, he wondered to himself. Now she’ll think she made me come downstairs.

He took the second set of stairs two at a time, marveling at his athletic graces. By the third staircase, he almost took three, but tripped on the bottom.

“Adrian! Watch out hunny. You’ll hurt yourself.” His mother had watched his failed finale, but missed his first display. He wished she had time to watch him try again, but already knew it was pointless to ask her anymore. She would begin an apology that became endless excuses.

His sister was babbling mindlessly to puppets singing the alphabet on TV. He missed his TV time being downstairs where his mom could talk with him about his shows. There was a man with an Afro that taught him how to paint mountains and forests. She didn’t care anymore about his drawings, it would be so much better to paint for her. He definitely wanted the easel for Christmas now. No more time for action figures. He would paint and paint until she was happy again. Then his dad could be happy again, and they all would eat together without arguing anymore. He made his usual routine of opening the refrigerator door and grabbing the first jug of juice half-gone. Before he could walk to the sink, his mom was already reminding him to use a glass.

Duh mom, he thought. He set up his orange juice alongside a bagel, and began spreading peanut butter across, watching the TV set from the living room as it played loudly, having changed to a cartoon he could handle.

“How was your day at school, Adrian?”

“Fine,” he muttered while shoving half of the bagel into his mouth. She asked something about his art class but he was mesmerized suddenly by the television show. The tiny mice characters were running in fear, and a man in a hat that shaded his face and an trench coat, weilding a large chainsaw was chasing them. He only remembered a cat with a bulbous red nose usually trying to catch the mice, never a man. He recognized the man when his hat and coat came off. It was the man from his dream. He started to say something and sat up to look at his mother, but she wasn’t in the kitchen anymore. He looked around wildly and saw his baby sister crawling towards the TV set.

Before he could tell her to stop, the man had stopped chasing the mouse and turned to stare down at the toddler. The man started to swing the blade of the chainsaw behind his shoulder, and Adrian yelled.

“Adrian? What is the matter with you?”

His mother had returned, struggling behind a loaded laundry basket. Adrian looked at her wildly and stood up to see his little sister starting to cry with his mother’s concerned voice. The tv had changed back to a cat chasing the mouse.

“I...” Adrian didn’t know how to explain without sounding crazy. It wasn’t like his mother had time for his antics anymore, as she put it.

“You need to finish your snack and start on your homework. God knows what your grades will look like this month.”

She turned away before he could respond. He sighed and felt her resentment towards him. He missed her affection and interest in his homework. He glared at the baby as she followed their mom into the den, while shoving the rest of the bagel into his mouth.

Upstairs he pulled the books out from school, along with his drawing notebook filled with random detailed ideas for his artwork, flipping through fondly. He remembered his list and quickly circled the Easel written down earnestly, and crossed out the heroic action figure play set; declaring protection over his home and country with ol Cap in his imagination had to be set aside.

The TV turned on with the same static and black and white picture. He froze. Something else was whispering in the background of the static and he was afraid of what the voice was saying. His pencil fell and he dared not look away this time. The voice had grown louder, and he heard a woman’s voice with a German accent. He still didn’t understand what was said. The picture changed to a graveyard. It was small and looked older. The moss was over growing most of the headstones. One in particular stood out, the stone writing was still painted a bright red despite the obvious age from wearing down in weather. “Here Lies...”

Suddenly the man was in Adrian’s face.

“SAY IT,” the man roared.

—

The next day Adrian rushed to his locker, excited to meet his best friend in first period. They got lucky to share the same schedule during three classes this year. Adrian’s friend Daniel lived only two blocks away, so they were able to hang out through summer, watching movies and riding bikes for pizza. He loved having a friend his age that wasn’t scared of his dad’s customers. His dad even let the two of them sit on a motorcycle. Adrian and Daniel dreamed of owning their own motorcycles someday and starting up a club. They pretend their bicycles had motors and used old poker cards to make louder pretend. Grabbing his English books and notepad, Adrian rushed down the hall to his first class.

“Daniel!” He shouted across the classroom. Daniel looked up and smiled, half of his teeth missing still. He was about Adrian’s height, with orange hair and freckles that dotted his pale skin. He never tanned, even when he and Adrian spent countless days under the sun to fish the creeks.

“Hey-oh, dick.” Daniel greeted him as Adrian dumped his books down on the desk next to him. They exchanged their secret handshake and looked around quickly to see if anyone had watched them do it. Jacob was watching the whole show. He always watched Adrian earnestly. Jacob caught Adrian’s eye who groaned inwardly, and he rushed to move his stuff next to the duo.

“Hi guys, I watched that new tv show I told you about last night. It was so, cool. The clown is terrifying!”

Daniel grunted aloud and Adrian laughed, which stopped Jacob from continuing. Adrian pretended not to notice how embarrassed Daniel and pulled his pencils out. The teacher had just entered the room.

“Good morning, class. Has everyone had a good morning, so far?” The teacher was named Mr. Berkeley, except the kids called him Mr. Barkley. He had a prominently large nose and long neck they contributed to his canine-quality nickname, along with white hair over his ears that stuck out, like a clown. He always repeated himself. The class murmured good morning to him and settled down into their seats as role call began.

Jacob watched Adrian, he could feel him staring. He looked over at him and raised his eyebrows irritably. Jacob smiled eagerly and tried to show him a book. Adrian read the first three words, The Handbook For when the teacher caught his attention.

“Next week we have a special guest coming to the school. He is an renowned artist of many talents. I’m sure we can greet him with special works of art. Also we will be starting our projects, so you’ll need to decide who will be in your group. Only three in each group, nobody can be left out.”

Adrian knew the artist as soon as he heard his teacher announce his first name. The man had even created a movie line by now. He couldn’t wait, began thinking of what exactly he would paint. If only he already had his new easel! He looked for his drawing notebook and guessed he left it in his book bag. He would start drawing during first break.

Mr. Berkeley began calling out names of his students for attendance, even though they all knew which student wasn’t there. Easton hardly showed up anymore. The rest of his classmates knew he was skipping because his parents had divorced. His mom hardly cared where he went, much less to school. The principal gave up on calling either of Easton’s parents anymore, it was pointless. They were always in counseling, but Easton’s dad had recently been dating another woman. Adrian and his classmates knew this because Easton’s mom had shown while his dad was picking him up, screaming at him to go fuck his new whore, and throwing his dads clothes at their car. Everyone saw it. Even their parents. Easton hadn’t shown up much since then.

Daniel shouted, “HERE!” And the class erupted in laughter at this obnoxious reply. Mr. Berkeley sighed and continued, knowing his retirement was closer than convincing Daniel to stop the antics. Daniel nudged Adrian’s foot and Adrian grinned, responding to the teacher in a regular voice. Adrian wasn’t as brave as Daniel when it came to comedy, but he did enjoy drawing the stupid ideas Daniel came up with. It was their way of bonding. Jacob tried to copy Daniel by yelling, “HERE!” But the teacher was already alert to the joke by now.

“Mr. Danvers I’ll need to see you after class.” The class of course erupted into oohs as Jacob hung his head and scribbled across his notebook. The lesson was easy, about nouns and pronouns. Adrian zoned out and began to think about what he could draw for his favorite artist.

As soon as class dismissed, everyone except Jacob were rushing out of the door with their books half crammed back into their backpacks. Jacob looked miserable. Adrian noticed but said nothing, because he felt awkward. He pushed his notebook and schoolbook into his bag and headed out of the class, hearing Mr. Berkeley begin his lecture about peer pressure.

Daniel was already at his locker, and Adrian high-fived him in passing. He would get to spend lunch and third period with him later.

Unable to find his notebook dedicated to drawings, he silently scolded himself and realized he must have forgot it at home. He couldn’t remember working in it last night, except for the Christmas list. He also wasn’t sure he remembered what he ate for dinner, or what his parents said before bedtime. He was still trying to recall the past events when he wandered into his Math class. Nobody was there yet, including his teacher. Adrian found this odd, as the small old woman was usually there to greet them while scribbling he name slowly and meticulously on the chalkboard, as was her routine for forty plus years. He looked around and chose a seat slowly, towards the windows. The lights above him buzzed loudly, the only sound he could hear. A thud from the closet startled his body, and he almost peed himself. He stared hard, and waited for a repeated noise. When it thudded again, he saw that whatever had made the noise was able to move almost the whole door, as if the next impact would be what tore it off the hinges. He gulped back his saliva, and waited breathlessly for whatever it was.

“Adrian! Good morning hunny,” he fell off his chair, which brought about a little set of startled squeaks and chuckles from the old woman who had just entered the classroom.

“Oh, Mrs. White, hello.” Adrian untangled himself from his chair and reset his chair and papers.

“I am so sorry I startled you sweet pea, I’m usually never late except today, they were restructuring that old bridge over the river, and I had to go around!” Adrian was staring at her, still confused while she babbled on. The other children slowly made their way inside, nobody was a true fan of math in his class. Mrs. White painfully scrawled her name across the chalkboard while they sat silently. They knew better than to interrupt. Mrs. White was a sweet hearted old woman but she still spent a long time teaching and training children to learn. She could handle her own, and they respected her wisdom. She also sometimes brought jelly-filled doughnuts to class, claiming an empty stomach lead to an empty mind. Adrian loved the jelly doughnuts, and didn’t actually mind math so much, when she taught it.

Just as she finished writing the date, the time, and which class they were in, the door opened. Everyone looked at the entry and were surprised to see Easton. He was disheveled and had dark circles around his eyes. Adrian knew that Easton actually liked math, as the two had tutored together before for extra credits. It was still surprising to see the kid show up at all anymore. Easton found the empty seat, it was right next to the closet. Adrian had forgot all about the mysterious noises until now. Easton thought he was staring at him, and broke his concentration by hissing, “What are you looking at.” Adrian was so perplexed by the attitude, he quickly looked down at his desk and refused to look around anymore. Today they refreshed their memories on fractions. A lot was forgotten over the summer break, and this week of school would mostly be about remembering it all. Adrian hated first week, it was as if the school had to break their spirits altogether again, forcing them into monotonous learning. He was already tired of the school year, and looked forward to Christmas break. He wanted a school where all he had to do was paint.

—

“Mama, are you making dinner?” The boy asked the quiet, dark room. The response he received was a fit of coughs and hacks. She spit somewhere, and he softly walked away, his barefeet echoing in the house.

—

Lunchtime today included a choice of grilled cheese, or ham and cheese. Adrian chose the ham, and apple slices. Daniel quickly showed as he settled into a bench, and slid into him, a crumpled dirty paper bag holding his lunch was heaved onto the table.

“Did you see?” Daniel asked as he tore open his sack, pulling out a bag of chips. He traded the chips for Adrian’s apples, while Adrian tore open his milk tab and inserted a straw.

“See what, you have to be a little bit more clear than that,” Adrian chuckled. Daniel shrugged as he crunched loudly into apple.

“Fuck dude, Easton is back!” Daniel pulled out a ziplock containing his own sandwich combination. He insisted on making his own, he claimed the school cooks didn’t care like he did about sandwiches. Today looked like a fried egg, avocado, and sliced zucchini mixture. It was a mess. Daniel gained half of the ooze across his face from it with the first bite, still looking at Adrian. Adrian grimaced a little, but bit into his own dry ham and cheese, thinking that maybe a little avocado wouldn’t hurt his own lunch.

“So?” Adrian asked, opening the chips loudly. He pretended not to see Jacob hurry towards them from the food stations.

“So, we need to get him to agree to work with our project team. He won’t care what we decide to do, and I already have the perfect idea,” Daniel stopped talking and rolled his eyes as Jacob sat down, his food tray hitting the table hard, his sandwich fell apart.

“Ham and cheese too, Adrian?” Jacob quickly pieced his sandwich together and took a huge bite, watching Him. Daniel sniggered.

“Uh, yeah man,” Adrian said, trying not to sound mean. He looked at Daniel who was finishing up his culinary mess and grabbing any pieces that dropped, slurping the sauces loudly off his fingertips. Adrian knew he wouldn’t learn more about the project Daniel had in mind, so long as Jacob was hanging around. They finished up their lunch in silence, and Adrian missed summertime. After they finished their lunch and threw away their trash, tossing their trays onto the washing stand, everyone was being ushered outside for recess. Adrian, Daniel, and Jacob had settled themselves around the monkey bars, although they were too old and cool now to play like little kids. Jacob had to be reminded of this as he started to climb, but was reprimanded silently by a glare and a nod from Adrian. He copied Adrian’s stance by leaning against one of the poles, watching the other students playing on the swings and sliding.

—

“Okay man, you ready to hear about our big project that’s going to put us on the map?”

Daniel startled Adrian at his locker, who was once again trying to piece together the night before. It was time for third period, Art. Adrian’s favorite class, and with his best friend, and he didn’t have to deal with Jacob. Easton was supposed to be there, but Adrian didn’t see him at lunchtime. He and Daniel chose the easels that faced the windows; their spot. Students slowly trickled in, someone burped loudly and laughter erupted. After lunch always seemed to be more relaxed, everyone had full bellies and got to burn out some energy in the playgrounds. Adrian quickly pulled the paints from the bucket he planned on using today, eager to practice for the next week’s guest.

“Shoot,” Adrian urged while drying his paintbrushes. Daniel hadn’t even began grabbing paints, and wasn’t worried about which brushes he would use. Art was Adrian’s favorite, but Daniel obliged for fun and much-needed credits. Daniel usually just drew trees, but Adrian enjoyed painting full scenarios that depicted stories only he could tell. Their art teacher always let Adrian draw whatever he felt like, but had to guide the rest of the class with ideas and tips. Easton came in silently, without anyone noticing. He grabbed a board and paints without saying a word. Adrian saw him at that moment, and quickly looked away, but watched him from the corner of his eye, nudging Daniel. Daniel ignored him, eager to get his buddy on the same page,

“So, I need you to come by later. My dad pulled this huge table out that looks like almost the whole town. All we gotta do is fix it up, add a volcano, and bam. Total mayhem. Easy fuckin’ A, man.”

“Sure, yeah...” Adrian mumbled. He was still watching Easton, who was ignoring everyone else and had already begun swiping his paintbrush across the canvas. The teacher, Mr. Walker, entered and began ordering everyone to pick different colors of flowers. Adrian smiled, knowing he was favored by this teacher and wouldn’t have to paint flowers today. Mr. Walker said nothing to Easton, only monitored the kids as they chattered and took their time deciding. Adrian began to outline his canvas with a pencil, knowing what he wanted to see and exchanging it effortlessly. His mind was already at peace, drowning out the classroom, teacher, and Daniel’s project plan.

Mr. Walker was wandering around the students and their easels, stopping to guide each of them on their renditions of tiny daisies and roses. Adrian had just finished painting the shed on his. It sat above a field of grass, highlighted by shades of moonlight. Mr. Walker quietly enjoyed his favorite student at work for a moment, applauding him by clasping a hand on Adrian’s shoulder. Adrian felt pride swell inside of him as he continued, appreciating every minute of this class time.

“Dear God, Easton!” The sound of their teacher yelling shook the class from its serenity. Everyone looked towards the voice, Mr. Walker was red with anger, his hands pushed at his sides but visibly shaking. None of them had ever seen their teacher so upset before. Easton had dropped his paintbrush and was standing back to enjoy his work. Their teacher quickly grabbed him by the arm and ran to the sink, uttering angrily that Easton would spend the day in the principal’s office. It wasn’t new that Easton was in trouble, and because his parents rarely showed up to the school for him, he usually spent the day writing in the principal’s office until school was over for the day. Adrian quickly wiped his hands while Daniel followed him. They had to know what had caused their teacher to be so angry. The other students stood in their view and as they pushed through, their curiosity grew more intense as murmurs and gossip had already began.

“Holy shit, dude.” Daniel said quietly, and Adrian silently agreed. The wet painting crudely depicted two clothesless dark colored men engaged in what Adrian guessed was sexual, red painting dripping where the two connected. Behind them was a huge tree that covered the entire top with limbs and leaves. A white male hung from a rope from one of the tree limbs, his penis hanging below his legs, and red paint splattered across his whole naked body. All three of the figures had red eyes that were dripping. The paint was so thickened, it was more nightmarish with its details.

—

Adrian’s mom wasn’t home when he got off the bus. He unlocked the front door, grabbing the mail and dropping it on the end table inside. He hummed to himself as he made his way to the fridge. Grabbing a swig of juice out of the carton, he found leftover pizza and threw it on a plate. While dumping juice into a cup, he microwaved his leftovers and turned on the TV. He switched through a few channels before finding his favorite cartoon show about superhero’s. He chuckled as the sidekick was saying something sarcastically, but stopped when he heard a noise that seemed to come from upstairs. Remembering the cat had to be around, he opened the pantry and grabbed the dry cat food bag. Shaking it, he looked around. Waiting a few seconds, he called out.

“Sugar? Here kitty, kitty.” He hated the name his mom chose for the cat, but he wasn’t a fan of the damn thing anyway. He shook the bag again and waited, then poured a little into the cat dish.

“Whatever cat, stop breaking shit.” Adrian called out. Another crash rang out, but Adrian was too lazy and hungry to deal with a mess yet. He grabbed his warmed pizza slice and cup of juice, settling into the living room to quickly eat on the couch, before his mom got home. The knock at the door stopped him from his first bite, his mouth open wide and ready. He wasn’t expecting anyone to knock, and his parents certainly didn’t knock. He quickly put his plate and glass down on the end table, and ran to the eyehole in the door. His neighbor, the elderly man from down the street, was standing in the entryway. Adrian couldn’t remember his name, but often saw the old man outside and tending his frontyard religiously. The old man was grimacing, and looking around for his parent’s cars, Adrian assumed. He opened the door slowly.

“Hey, uh, is this the house with the uh, the white cat?” His neighbor asked.

Adrian nodded yes.

“Well uh, I hate to tell ya kid but ah, he got ranned over by the railroad tracks. I can take ya there to see him. Ya need to bury him, or ah, we’ll have coyotes on the street. Can’t have that.”

Adrian couldn’t believe him. He slowly walked outside and shut his front door. He followed the old man, who was whispering to himself about coyotes down the street. They arrived at the edge of the train tracks and looked down at the sad scene.

He had never dealt with death before, not even a family pet. He wondered where his mom was, but was suddenly glad she wasn’t home yet. He felt responsible for making sure Sugar was put in the ground before she saw how bad the poor guy had lived his last moments. His face had small flies already feasting on his drying saliva and blood. His mouth hung at a weird angle, teeth cracked and missing. His stomach was sliced open and Adrian could see his intestines among other organs. He stared for a long time, somewhat mesmerized. The neighbor’s voice pulled him out, startling him.

“You’ll need a shovel. Easiest way to scoop it all up. Best to bury it deep so the critters don’t dig at it.”

Adrian watched the old man slowly shuffle home, and went back to his own house to grab the shovel and a garbage bag.

—

He liked the sound of the shovel scooping into the dirt. It felt even better under his leather boots, pushing it deep into the ground. He liked how fast and efficient a shovel worked. He finished his goal easily and placed his shovel gently besides the holes. Turning, he looked at the two figures covered in bed sheets, ropes tied around their necks and feet to keep them covered. The moonlight was still enough for him to see the blackened stains that splotched across the white. He grunted as he dragged them closer to the holes. Standing up, he kicked them each into their graves. Looking around, he heard the cows wailing loudly for dinnertime. The boy pushed his hair back and took a deep breath. Then he began to fill the holes with dirt, enjoying the sound and the feel. He started to sing, “digdigdig” to himself as he worked.

—

The front door opened, and Adrian’s mom announced herself with her ordinary sounds; keys finding their bowl, a purse being tossed on a rack, and shoes being shuffled off. He heard his mom going through the mail, but didn’t leave the living room. He had turned the tv off once he had returned from finishing the deed of burying Sugar. His mom came into the room, still holding her letters.

“Adrian? What happened?” He burst into tears. His mother always knew when something was wrong. He told her that Sugar had been hit by a car, but didn’t go into details. His mom held him as he cried, and he heard the front door open again. His father came inside, his baby sister babbling in conversation with him as he brought her inside and put her down. He laughed loudly, and looked up, still grinning.

“Hey hun, guess what our princess did today? She went on the big girl potty at daycare!” His mother cooed her happiness and held her arms out for the toddler running towards her. Adrian quickly wiped his eyes and felt embarrassed in front of his dad, who still hadn’t realized what all had happened. He watched his parents squeeze and cheer their little girl as she squealed and clapped for their approval. Adrian wished he was a baby again. He left the room without them noticing, heading to the garage.

He got on his bicycle and rode towards Daniel’s house. The old man wasn’t out front in his yard working, which was unusual. Adrian was glad, he didn’t want to see him right now. He made it to Daniel’s driveway and dropped his bike on the grass. Daniel’s parents didn’t work at normal jobs, they ran their own business from home, and sometimes made long trips for it. Adrian’s mom calls them hoarders, but Adrian wouldn’t tell Daniel that. Adrian liked their house, though. It had all sorts of cool stuff to look at and play with. And sometimes their trips meant Daniel got to stay the night with Adrian.

Adrian opened the front door to the Olson house. A cuckoo clock was chirping loudly, announcing someone was entering. Adrian pushed the bird back against his spring, closing the small hinged door. Grinning, he looked up as two large golden retrievers were racing to him. They slid across the linoleum entryway, their tongues finding every inch of Adrian’s face.

“Hey boys!” Adrian yelled while laughing, trying to stop the furry duo from taking him down to the floor, lest he be completely showered in slobber. Adrian loved dogs, especially Daniel’s.

“Get down, idiots!” Daniel called from his bedroom. Adrian wiped his face, wandering down the hall.

“How’s it going, fuckface?” Daniel greeted. Adrian started the obligatory secret handshake.

“Not so hot, dickshit. Our cat got ran over sometime today.”

“Oh shit man, I’m sorry. What was his name? Cupcake?”

Adrian couldn’t help but laugh at the guess.

“No, idiot. Sugar. Jesus, I remember your stupid dogs names.”

“Yeah, but that’s because dogs are fucking awesome!”

Adrian had to agree, so instead grinned. Daniel stood up and pulled on his hoodie.

“Come on fucknut, this will get your mind off a dead pussy.”

Adrian followed his friend back outside and into the shed. Adrian suddenly realized it resembled the one he painted today, except it wasn’t as worn down as he depicted. He hadn’t known, even if he had been to the shed almost every time he visited Daniel. He was still thinking about this as Daniel opened the doors, pulling chains and a large old padlock off the handles. Everything was secondhand, as it had all been collected by various estate and yard sales.

“Ready for this?” Daniel asked as he disappeared inside. Adrian followed and rolled his eyes. The room was dark and cold, and Adrian hoped Daniel found the light switch quickly.

“Hurry up, already. I’m tired of hearing you talk about it.” Adrian said, trying to sound tough. Daniel laughed as the lights came on. Adrian’s eyes widened as he surveyed the shed. Two very large pieces of hand-built tables were topped with tiny houses, trees, and businesses. Adrian immediately recognized it as their town.