A Simple Plan

him lying there, drunk, and of me bending over him to kiss him good night. Without thinking, I held the quilt to my nose and inhaled, trying to believe that I could smell him in it, though of course I couldn't.

Judas kiss, he'd whispered.

Outside, on the street, a snowplow passed, thudding and scraping. I glanced down at Amanda. She was limp in my arms, as if she were sleeping deeply, but her eyes were still open. I could see them shining in the darkness, like glass marbles.

When I looked forward to the approaching morning, I got a hard knot in my stomach. I couldn't escape the feeling that no matter what I decided to do, it would probably be a mistake.

The best solution, I realized suddenly, the utterly ruthless one, would be simply to take the money and run. I could abandon Sarah and Amanda, just head off into the night, alone. I could start up a different life from scratch, change my name, create a new identity. I closed my eyes and pictured myself purchasing a new car, something foreign and sporty and brightly colored, not worrying about financing or loans or payment schedules, simply counting out the money from my wad of hundred-dollar bills into the startled salesman's hand. I imagined myself driving off in this new car, living out of a suitcase, buying new clothes when the old ones got dirty, moving from hotel to hotel -- expensive ones with pools and saunas and weight rooms and king-size beds -- all the way across the country in a giant zigzag, moving on as soon as I grew tired of a place, westward or southward or eastward or northward, any direction I felt like as long as it was somewhere new, as long as it was away from here where I was now, home, Ohio, where I'd always been.

And why not? If I could kill my own brother, then I must be capable of anything. I must be evil.

Above me, in the attic, the wind made a moaning sound. I glanced down at Amanda, at the soft glimmer of her eyes.

I could kill her. I could wrap her in the quilt and smother her. I could take her by her ankles and beat her against the wall. I could squeeze her head between my hands until it popped. And I could kill Sarah, too, could sneak across the hallway and strangle her in her sleep, could suffocate her with her pillow, could smash in her face with my fists.

I pictured all of this in my mind, one image following quickly after the other. I could do it, I realized. If I could imagine it, if I could plan it out, then I could do it. It'd simply be a matter of my mind telling my hands what to do. Nothing was beyond me.

There was a rustling sound in the hall, and when I looked up, Sarah was in the doorway. She was wearing her robe, tying its belt in a loose knot as she stood there. Her hair was pinned back with a barrette.

'Hank?'

I gazed up at her, mute. The bloody images slowly slipped from my head, dreamlike, leaving little, shallow pools of guilt behind, like puddles after a rainstorm.

Of course not. The thought rippled through my mind, drifting down to its very depths and returning changed, an echo of the original. I love them both so terribly.

I bent my head and brushed Amanda's eyelashes with my lips. 'She's having trouble falling asleep,' I whispered.

Sarah stepped into the room, the floorboards creaking beneath her. She climbed up onto the bed with me, and I opened the quilt, enclosing her within it, my arm circling down around her waist. She wrapped her legs around my own, resting her head against my shoulder, so that it was just above Amanda's.

'You have to tell her a story,' she said.

'I don't know any stories.'

'Then you have to make one up.'

I thought for a moment, but my mind was blank. 'Help me,' I whispered.

'Once upon a time there was a king and a queen.' She paused, waiting for me to pick up.

'Once upon a time,' I began, 'there was a king and a queen.'

'A beautiful queen.'

'A beautiful queen' -- I nodded -- 'and a very wise king. They lived in a castle by a river, and it was surrounded by fields.'

I trailed off, at a loss.

'Were they rich?'

'No. They were just normal. They were like all the other kings and queens.'

'Did the king fight in battles?'

'Only when he had to.'

'Tell a story about one of his battles.'

I thought for nearly a minute. Then I got an idea that seemed, as I lay there in the darkness, like it might be clever.

'One day,' I said, 'the king was out walking in the forest and he stumbled upon an old wooden box. At first he thought it was a coffin. It was shaped like one, and its lid was nailed shut, but it wasn't buried, it was just lying in the grass. And it was heavier than a coffin would be. When the king tried to pick it up, he strained his back.'

'What was in it?' Sarah asked, but I ignored her.

'The king went home, and he told the beautiful queen about the box. 'Queen,' he said...'

'Beloved,' Sarah whispered.

'Beloved?'

'That's what they call each other. Beloved.'

''Beloved,' the king said, 'I found a heavy box in the forest. Come help me carry it home.' So she did, and they brought it back to the castle, and the king called two of his dukes into the throne room to help him pry off the lid.'

'And there was a witch inside,' Sarah said.

'No. It was full of gold. Gleaming bars of gold.'

'Gold?' she prompted me, but I hesitated. I was realizing that it might not be so clever after all.

'How much gold?'

'A lot,' I said. 'More than they ever would've dreamed of owning.'

'And were they excited?'

'They were more frightened than excited. They realized that the neighboring kings and queens would be jealous of them now, and would attack with their armies to steal the treasure. They'd have to recruit an army of their own and dig a new moat before letting anyone know about the gold. Otherwise they'd lose not only it but their whole kingdom, too. So the king warned the two dukes not to speak of what they'd seen, and as a reward for their silence, he promised them each a portion of the treasure.'

I paused, to see if she'd caught on yet. She hadn't, though: she was lying very still, waiting for me to continue.

'Days passed, and the king began to dig his new moat. But then, quite suddenly, he started to hear distressing rumors in his court, rumors about the gold. The queen heard the rumors too, and she came to see him. 'Something must be done about the dukes, Beloved,' she said.'

'Oh, Hank.' Sarah sighed, her voice sounding pained.

'The king agreed, and they decided to kill the dukes. But since they couldn't simply execute them without confirming the court rumors, they organized a jousting tournament and arranged for the dukes to die during the contest, apparently accidentally, one run through with a lance, the other trampled by his horse.'

'Was one of them the king's brother?'

I started to shake my head, but then I stopped. 'Yes.'

'And was the money safe then?'

'The gold.'

'Was the gold safe? Did they build the moat and recruit their army?'

'No. Right after they murdered the dukes, their neighbors appeared with their armies and arrayed them on the fields around the castle.'

I fell silent. When I glanced down, I saw that Amanda was staring directly at me. She'd been listening to my voice. The room was dark and cold, but we were warm together beneath the quilt.

I felt Sarah's hand slide across my stomach toward the baby, and watched her as she stroked the infant's forehead with her fingertips. 'How does it end?' she asked. Her head was heavy against my shoulder, like a