C4 antho - Chamber Four
C4 antho - Chamber Four C4 antho - Chamber Four
~208~ The Chamber Four Fiction Anthology Miguel perked up. “Want to go kill one?” He pulled a cheap looking survival knife from his boot. “It is sharp. Feel,” Miguel said handing Billy the knife. It was sharp. He handed it back. Miguel crawled out from under the tractor. His brother sat looking hopeful. “There are too many here. He would never miss one. I say we get one of the woolly ones still in the wood corrals. Easier.” He crawled up on the Versatile to get a better look. “I think it is too far for him to hear.” Miguel jumped down from the tractor and slid under it to put out the fire. Billy didn’t want to kill any sheep. He’d seen enough dead for one day, but he felt like doing something brave. He felt like taking up a greater space in the world, like James Carl. Billy helped fill in the pit, leaving no visible evidence there had been a fire. He remembered to bury the bottle. Miguel led the way but hesitated at the timberline. “I get lost in trees,” he said. Billy took over and led the boys straight through to the other side where it opened up into another field not yet plowed. Across the field lay the wooden corrals. Miguel out front, they sneaked the last quarter-mile. At the corrals, Miguel’s brother put his hand through and let a lamb lick his fingers. He giggled. “Stay on this side,” Miguel said to his brother. Grinning at Billy, Miguel took the knife from his boot and bit down on it. Climbing over the corral fence, Billy missed a step and fell into the sheep, frightening them. Bleating, the sheep scattered and ran in futile circles around the boys. Miguel took the knife out of his mouth to laugh at Billy lying in the dirt, put it back, and began the chase. Miguel lunged at one, missed, chased another, and missed again. Billy faired about the same, each boy running in drunken circles, laughing and falling, until Billy gave out and crossed the fence. He sat
Black Night Ranch ~209~ panting in the grass with Miguel’s brother, who rocked patiently. Billy heard the gate jangle. Miguel approached carrying a tiny lamb. It looked dead, drooping in his arms. Miguel spit the knife onto the ground. The lamb raised its head, curled comfortably into his arms, and fell asleep. “I can not do it,” Miguel said. “He jumped in my arms like I was to save him. They all ran. He jumped.” Billy, feeling big, picked up the knife. “You can’t baby sheep.” He tested the knife’s edge, wiped it off on his pant leg, and raised the lamb’s sleepy head, exposing its neck. He gripped the knife hard, felt for the best spot to cut, and looked up at Miguel. Miguel took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and turned away. Billy lowered the lamb’s head. He could see there was more to it than Miguel not wanting to be the one holding the knife. He could see the boy didn’t want it killed at all. “Let’s put him back,” Billy said, tossing the knife in the grass. Miguel relaxed his shoulders and stared up at the sky, his hands slipping to loosely hold the lamb. Seeing the look on Miguel’s face, Billy, too, felt a sense of relief. In his periphery, Billy saw Miguel’s little brother pick up the knife, but he was too slow to prevent the boy from slitting the lamb’s throat. Miguel dropped to the ground with the lamb and tried to stop the flow, but it was a good cut. The lamb was mostly dead. “Why did you do that?” Miguel pleaded. “Huh?” “I said why did you do that? We were going to put it back. I have it all over me. What are we going to do with it? Shit. Shit.” Miguel turned to Billy. “Do something.” The little boy put his hand on Miguel’s shoulder. “We eat? I am hungry. We eat now?”
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~208~ The <strong>Chamber</strong> <strong>Four</strong> Fiction Anthology<br />
Miguel perked up. “Want to go kill one?” He pulled a<br />
cheap looking survival knife from his boot. “It is sharp. Feel,”<br />
Miguel said handing Billy the knife. It was sharp. He handed<br />
it back. Miguel crawled out from under the tractor. His<br />
brother sat looking hopeful. “There are too many here. He<br />
would never miss one. I say we get one of the woolly ones<br />
still in the wood corrals. Easier.” He crawled up on the Versatile<br />
to get a better look. “I think it is too far for him to<br />
hear.” Miguel jumped down from the tractor and slid under<br />
it to put out the fire.<br />
Billy didn’t want to kill any sheep. He’d seen enough<br />
dead for one day, but he felt like doing something brave. He<br />
felt like taking up a greater space in the world, like James<br />
Carl. Billy helped fill in the pit, leaving no visible evidence<br />
there had been a fire. He remembered to bury the bottle.<br />
Miguel led the way but hesitated at the timberline. “I get<br />
lost in trees,” he said. Billy took over and led the boys<br />
straight through to the other side where it opened up into<br />
another field not yet plowed. Across the field lay the wooden<br />
corrals. Miguel out front, they sneaked the last quarter-mile.<br />
At the corrals, Miguel’s brother put his hand through and let<br />
a lamb lick his fingers. He giggled.<br />
“Stay on this side,” Miguel said to his brother. Grinning<br />
at Billy, Miguel took the knife from his boot and bit down on<br />
it.<br />
Climbing over the corral fence, Billy missed a step and<br />
fell into the sheep, frightening them. Bleating, the sheep<br />
scattered and ran in futile circles around the boys. Miguel<br />
took the knife out of his mouth to laugh at Billy lying in the<br />
dirt, put it back, and began the chase. Miguel lunged at one,<br />
missed, chased another, and missed again. Billy faired about<br />
the same, each boy running in drunken circles, laughing and<br />
falling, until Billy gave out and crossed the fence. He sat