The metal bar made a loud thump as Michael swung and struck Billy Stokes in the side of the head. A crunch followed as the metal bar crushed the thin skull within the forty-year old’s gruff face and head. Michael followed the momentum of the metal bar to the right as it struck and fell.
“Big Mouth Billy Strokes”, as he was often called fell to the ground. He did not hold his head or speak a word. He lay motionless upon the darkening front yard of Michael’s home. Michael dropped the pipe and stared at the unconscious man. His anger stewed as he watched Billy. After several long moments Michael spoke.
“There!” he shouted. “What do you think of that!”
“You won’t have anything to say for a while now. I’m not even going to try to wake you up.” Michael then turned and left. He opened the screen door of his small single-story home. A car passed quickly by the front yard. Michael turned quickly. “God damn drivers speeding past my damn house. I swear they don’t see a damn thing.” He entered the house and slammed the door.
Michael lived alone in this house. Anyone with any sense stayed away, at least that’s what Michael thought. Dinner was a simply a refrigerated bag of McDonald’s Big Macs. Michael bought two every Wednesday and saved them for dinner. Michael warmed the sandwiches in the microwave and sat down to eat them. He caught sight of Billy’s car through the corner of his eye.
Billy was a local drunk that would stumble into Michael’s home from time to time. Most days, Michael didn’t mind but tonight Billy was belligerent and upset over the death of his mother. “Of course, the first thing he did was visit me,” Michael thought then cursed.
After dinner Michael washed up a couple dishes and stared out into the front yard. He noticed that Billy had moved from lying on his back to sitting with his ass in the air and his hand forward. “What a weird position?” Michael thought as he washed the bowls without looking away from the man in the yard. The sun had fallen over the horizon and night was approaching fast. Another car approached. The light of it’s headlights illuminated the front yard. Peaking through the worn out, old, white fence. Billy struggled to move sliding up and out like a human inch-worm. The car approached. Billy placed his hands upon the ground and pushed. The light from the headlights pushed through the posts and crept across the small pond that sat within the front yard. Billy fell to the side and rolled partially into the pond. His head disappeared within the water. The car sped past and disappeared.
Still angry Michael stood quietly waiting for Billy to move. He would likely drown but it wouldn’t be for a minute or so more. Billy didn’t move and lay, head back, within the pool of water. “Ok, fine,” Michael said as he rushed out the front door. Another car approached and Michael froze. He didn’t want to attract any attention to himself. The people in this little town are up to their noses in neighborly crap, he thought. The car passed without incident and Michael stepped forward quickly. He lifted Billy from the pond and noticed his eyes had become bleached and his skin was pale. The man was dead.
Michael sat upon the yard. The darkness fell over him and day had turned to night. His mind slowly churned over the consequences of his actions. Excuses quickly filled the void as he tried to explain what happened. He settled on self-defense. “The man had attacked him”, he thought. “Why wouldn’t anyone believe him. “Billy was obnoxious and always drunk.”
“Fine,” he concluded and stood up. Another car passed the house and fear shot through every muscle. “What if someone see’s the body? They will call the police before I have a chance to explain. I will not have a chance.” Michael decides to push Billy into the pond. He reasoned that Billy just rolled into the water after Michael hit him. The water would hide the body till Michael could call the police.
Michael pushed the body forward but it was only half-buried it. A car approached. The driver would likely see Michael in the front yard, in the dark. Michael leapt for a group of bushes and waited for the car to pass. He then grabbed Billy by the feet and dragged him clockwise till his feet mostly disappeared in the water. He looked up and noticed Billy’s back and head now reappeared out of the water. “Son of a Bitch.”
Michael walked to Billy’s chest and shoved it. The body rolled and most of chest and head disappeared. “Damn it,” Billy shouted as he fell partially into the water. Another car approached then slowed. The right blinker began to flash. “No, not now,” Michael thought. “Damn.”
Michael ran across the front yard seconds ahead of the cone of light from the approaching car. Old age pawed at his knees and attempted to make him fall but he made it to the corner of the house. The car pulled into the driveway and illuminated the front of the house. The pond was several yards away and the light was far from it. Michael enter the back of the house and circled around to the front to find the car had left. “What the hell!” He shouted. “What the god damn hell!”
Often the drivers would use his driveway as a turn around and head the other direction. Michael cursed for several minutes then sat down upon the small kitchen table. He pulled a bottle of whiskey from the center of the table and poured a glass. “The first swallow was always the hardest,” he thought as the liquid burned through his throat. “The second, not so much.” Michael nursed the drink and thought about the scenarios. “The cops, the family the neighbors. Everyone would want to know what happen. Everyone would want to get to know him.” This infuriated Michael because he spend his entire life avoiding any connections. Any trouble at all. He hated people and despised any sort of attention.
The phone vibrated in Michael’s jeans and he slid it from the pocket. It was a birthday update for Billy Stokes. “Really?” Michael thought then moments later began to call the police. His body shook violently as he explained to the operator that he had avoided a punch and struck Billy with an iron pipe. Billy then fell into the pond and drowned. “Alright Michael, officers will be at your home shortly to collect your statement. Please stay on the line with me.” Michael obeyed but stood from the table. He walked to the front window of the house and looked out into the yard. The yard was dark and he could not see the pond within the yard. He wondered if the body was Ok. “Could Billy still be alive,” he thought. It was then that someone stumbled into his home through the front door. Michael turned to see Billy hunched over and holding the corner of the kitchen wall. “What the hell,” Michael shouted. “Are you Ok, Michael?” Said the operator. “I’m fine.”
Michael watched as Billy stood slowly. He used the wall to stand straight. Then turned at once. His head chest and legs all turned at the same time. Reflecting off the ceiling lights Michael noticed Billy’s eyes were still bleached. Billy’s clothing was wet and his skin was still pale. Within moments Billy was upon Michael and death followed. Billy easily twisted Michael’s neck and severed the brain from the spine. Billy then fell forward and expired.
“Michael? Michael, are you there? Mr. Redding? Michael Redding?” Said the phone operator as it sat next to both bodies.
Matthew R. Stitt // The Writer’s Archive 