handled, but this situation needed to be handled now. What if Mom or Aunt Steph woke up? What if Dr. Carroll’s body started to rot? Would it begin decomposition that soon? How would they get the blood stains out of the carpet?
Dad took the business card from him and stared at it silently for a while before he said, “Holy shit.”
* * *
Dad made the call while Brendan sat near Dr. Carroll’s body and wondered if the creepy bastard had had any sense of his imminent demise. Had he known he would be dead in only a few minutes when he explained to Brendan how he used to lay with naked, half-dissected corpses? Had he any sense at all when he entered the Williams’ residence that he wouldn’t be walking back out?
Brendan hoped he had known it or at least sensed something threatening waiting for him. He hoped that this man who had given him pills to help him focus better in school last September (pills Brendan hadn’t taken in over a week; Pillie Billy wasn’t necessary anymore—he was an undistracted, guided missile of purpose), that this man who had turned his mom into a barely-living mass of withering tissue had known, even if for only a moment or two, that his death was upon him. Maybe he had even seen Death, black-cloaked and scythe-carrying, standing in the corner of the bedroom before Dad caved his face in with a piece of metal. Hopefully, Dr. Carroll knew it was coming and hopefully it hurt like hell.
The back of Dr. Carroll’s head where the tire iron had caved in a chunk of his skull looked like it hurt a lot. He probably hadn’t felt it, though. The man was dead before he knew it. Brendan turned Dr. Carroll’s head so it was resting against the side of the bed, face toward him. Half of one cheek had been torn off, exposing the gums and teeth beneath. A few of the teeth had been fractured and split into jagged fangs. Dark purple and brown bruises surrounded the eye on this side. Had he not died, the bruises would have spread farther, puffed up like batter cooking in an oven. His jaw was out of its sockets. Brendan touched his chin and tried to close the man’s mouth but bones ground against bones and refused to move. At least that must have hurt. At least that much.
Brendan wanted to revel in this feeling but he immediately thought of Delaney. Had she sensed her end coming? Had she suffered pain? If she had, of course, it had been all Brendan’s fault. He didn’t want to think about it but he couldn’t shut off the thoughts. No matter how hard he squeezed the knob, the memories of what he had done continued to seep out one drip at a time, like fluid from that guided missile.
Both he and Dad were killers now. Yet, Brendan could never share what he had done. The pain would be too immense. It would be unfair, too, burdening Dad with the knowledge that his youngest child had killed his only daughter. Brendan would be put in an asylum somewhere in a room with padded walls and doctors would visit him every now and again to give him his Pilly Billies. Dr. Carroll would have the last laugh then.
Dad returned from the kitchen, mobile phone at his side. He looked at Brendan for a while before speaking.
“There’s a lot you haven’t told me,” he said.
Had Dwayne revealed the truth about Delaney? “Yes,” was all Brendan could say.
“Those men, Dwayne and Ellis, you think they are safe, trustworthy?” Dad approached him, sat on the edge of the bed away from the heavy splotch of blood and the two sleeping women.
Brendan swallowed. “I believe they are.”
Dad thought for a moment. “I guess I do, too. I kind of have to.”
“You punched Dwayne at Delaney’s …”
Dad opened and closed his right hand.
“Why did you do that?”
“We’ve never gone to church much. I wasn’t raised in a religious family and neither was your mother, but I didn’t think we’d be punished for it. I never suspected God was so cruel, so heartless, so evil.”
“He’s not evil, Dad.”
“He took Delaney. He took my baby. He destroyed my wife. He made me do
“Yes, I know,” Brendan said. Dad turned to him again, blinking. “He did all those things, it’s true, but it’s not to punish you.”
A small chuckle slipped out. “Oh, really?”
“God has a plan for everyone and each path is different and equally impossible to explain.”
Dad laughed. “You could take that act on the road. I’m sure Ellis and Dwayne would love to have you as part of their entourage. Maybe you’d even be better off. Get away from this family, from whatever curse has befallen it.”
“No curse, Dad. It only seems that way. God’s light is there. It will shine upon you if you want it to.”
“It’s that simple?”
Brendan should have felt ridiculous, stupid, out of his element, but he was calm and precise; he knew exactly what to say because some
“It
After a moment, Dad responded in a resigned tone: “I guess we’ll find out. Ellis and Dwayne will be here within the hour.”
Brendan was too excited to hide his smile.
10
Tyler didn’t wait long after Dad slammed the bedroom door to call Paul and tell him to get the fuck over here now. It wasn’t the fear of the possible violence that might occur (if Dad managed to get tough for once, the doctor deserved whatever beating he got), it was the pills in his pocket. They were burning a hole in there.
Paul had been in his car, “Just tooling around,” he said though that meant his Mom had sent him out to do errands, and so he was at Tyler’s in only a few minutes.
Tyler left the house just as Dad sounded like he was gearing up for a fight.
“What’s the new plan?”
“Go back to your house. Your parents there?”
“Mom is, sent me out to get bread and milk or something, so we have to stop at the store first, but Dad’s off with his buddies.”
“We need some privacy.”
“Before we have to start saying ‘No Homo,’ how bout you tell me this new plan that’s got you wired?”
Tyler relayed the plan to Paul, explaining how it would go down and why he believed it would work. Paul listened as he drove to Stop&Shop and asked questions while they walked around the store and then nodded his head in agreement while they stood in line at the cashier.
“It’s a good idea,” he said, “no doubt about it. Sick, though.”
“No sicker than your idea.”
“My plan would have worked if you hadn’t turned all pussy.”
A short woman hunched over a nearly empty cart with bifocals slipping down her nose coughed in line behind them. Tyler had been so caught up in explaining his plan he had forgotten where they were. Paul, however, didn’t care. If the old woman was offended she could turn off her hearing aid.
“It’s true,” Paul went on. “But your plan has some real potential. I never would have guessed you had it in you.”
“Desperate times, right?”
Paul nodded, exchanged empty chitchat with a pimple-faced girl working the register, ‘Brunelle,’ her name tag read, paid the bill, and let Tyler carry the bag of bread, milk, cheese, and eggs. He also carried a smaller bag holding two items he had purchased himself. Back in the car, Paul asked, “You have all those pills on you?”
Tyler removed a handful of multicolored and various-sized pills from his pocket. He held them out like a secret treasure.
“Shit,” Paul said. “There’s oxycontin in there?”
“I don’t remember what it looks like, but yeah.”
* * *
In Paul’s basement (his mother upstairs occupied with making cookies or a cake or something for Easter),
