Genre: Hillbilly Fiction
Jon enters the house with a bright smile on his face. The moment I see him grinning from ear to ear, I smile at him and raise me eyebrows, “What did yer get for me today?”
He shrugs as if tis no big deal and points behind him with a flick of his thumb and says, “The usual.”
I scurry outside leaving Jon in the hall and help his father lift up the heavy game from the trunk of the truck and bring it inside. I can see the anger in his eyes for Jon’s tone. He can be a little selfish at times, but he’s only 25, for god’s sake. I shake me head at him failing to understand why he is so hard with Jon.
As we make our way inside, I see Jon drinking lemonade straight outta the jug and smile at him, “Go ahead and finish it, I’ll make another batch for yerr father.”
Jon gives me a crooked smile spilling half a mouthful on his jeans and sofa and seeing this his father leaves the room mumbling curses.
I shake me head again and sit beside Jon. I lift up the corner of me skirt and wipe his mouth and jeans. Poor lad, working so hard at such a young age.
The game squirms once from under the sack, making me jump.
Jon gets up and kicks it hard, laughing. The squirming stops.
I can see how much Jon enjoys it. I can see the anticipation in his eyes.
Tonight after a long time, we’ll be having real meat.
Nowadays, there’s hardly any game to hunt in these areas. I said as much to Jon and his father last time they came back empty handed, but both of them are stubborn like asses and won’t listen to me about changing our hunting tactics.
Fools I say. Someday one or the other of the two will end up in a mess. But that’s okay, as long as we have meat in our bellies, we’re good to go. And tonight is going to be a grand feast.
The game in the sack is very heavy and awfully big. I think they got a plump one this time. It might even last us till the next hunt if I’ll ration it properly.
Me mouth salivates at the thought of all the dishes that I can make with the succulent meat. I might even get a big chunk of flesh minced and make meatballs in gravy with just the right amount of blood in them – just the way Jon likes it. I can even make some lasagna for Jon’s father. He might get happy and get me the earrings I saw at the store last month.
Jon comes to me and lifts up me chin is his huge hands and says playfully, “We did our part, now tis yerr turn to get yerr hands dirty.”
I get up and ask him to help me drag the game into the kitchen and when tis done I leave for the basement to get mine special knife set that I keep hidden from Jon.
Placing the big butcher knife on the floor beside me, scared to death that the game might be up and might bite me, I open the sack, half expecting the game to lunge at me. But I see that the game’s still half unconscious, I get it out of the sack with great difficulty. It is a plump one and the sight in front of me lights up me heart. Tis a female. All the more delicious and tender flesh.
I untie her hands and legs and sit in position to slit her throat in one clean stroke with me sharpest butcher knife. I raise me hands, knife clutched firmly in me hands and using the brute force of me heavy build I bring down the knife cutting away the neck in a clean blow.
I try to make out the noise that left the game’s mouth at the last moment before I cut off her throat, I guess she said something like, “Please…”
I shrug and look at me handy work and marvel at me art – No once can do such a clean job of chopping off a human body as me can.
You can read my other short stories here.