a chair stable so she could reach the top shelf of the pantry in the kitchen. Not thinking he could reach the top shelf with ease he obliged and steadied her chair. Gracie’s accidents always happened at the most inconvenient times, so of course she lost her balance. Erik moved to catch her but the additional weight jarred him. Grabbing her, they both spun to the floor. Gracie, now below Erik, had her legs wrapped around Erik’s waist and her skirts bunched uncomfortably between them. Erik’s face was planted right in the valley of her breasts. When Erik managed to recover enough to pull his head out of his cozy resting place, he saw his mother looking straight at him with a look of absolute fury. She surprised him when he did not receive the tongue thrashing he expected but Gracie did not say a word to him for the good part of a month.
“Where you off to in such a hurry, big guy?” she asked. Snapping his attention to the present Erik fought to maintain his composure. He could feel the heat trying to crawl up his neck while he cleared his throat.
“I am just going back to see if mother needs anything before I go down for the night.” Erik replied.
“Aw, what a good boy you are. You know she’s a big girl and can take care of herself for a little while longer. Besides I think she is still with her date. I thought you could do some things for me while I take a little break.” She said with a coy smile, thrusting out her bosom.
The heat he had been fighting off from his neck burst through and raced into his face. Looking at the Cavaliers didn’t help. Both men still looked at him and the giant burst out laughing. They could see this game and enjoyed the entertainment.
“Uh, no thanks, Gracie.” Erik said. His mother harped on him about the dangers of living and working in such an atmosphere. While she did what she had to do she did not approve, like, or condone what the establishment did. She tried her best to shield Erik from the more unsavory episodes. What she could not shield from him she made sure he understood such actions were not the life she wanted for him. Erik tried his best to keep his mother’s approval. This situation led to an abundance of knowledge but a complete lack of experience with the more adult aspects of the tavern’s business. Right now, however, Erik had to get away from the two men who gave him an inordinate amount of attention.
Why did he feel so oafish? Erik dealt with customers before but never legendary, deadly and ferocious customers. He ran down the long hallway and came to the room he and his mother shared. He turned the knob at the same time he flung himself into the door. Everything went wrong. Instead of dashing into the safety of the room, his hand slipped on the locked door and he ran full force into it with a resounding thud. All the air rushed out of his lungs as he collapsed to the ground. With great effort Erik got to his feet and fiddled around in his pockets for the key.
“Mom? You in there?” he croaked out as best he could. He did not want to walk in at an awkward moment as had happened before.
No answer came. He worked the key into the lock making as much noise as possible. He jiggled the loose handle a few times for good measure and slowly opened the door. The lamp’s fire still burned and the window had been opened but the blood paralyzed Erik. The odor filled his nose at the same time his eyes took in the scene. Blood covered everything. The ceiling dripped in places, and little streams of blood ran down the walls into large thick clotting pools on the floor. His mother lay on her bed, swimming in a crimson pond. The gash in her belly allowed her entrails to spread below her waist and onto the floor. A necklace of irregularly spaced, large, purple bruises ran around her neck. Her pale blue face accentuated her large purple lips. Erik would never forget his mother’s eyes. Her lifeless eyes still had terror trapped inside, like a prisoner in a glass box
Learning to Kill: Stories