The boys were preparing Lazarus' funeral wrap, by tearing up old sheets and wrapping Chris like a mummy. Joey and Calvin were doing the wrapping, while their friend Cory was testing the color of the red water colors they would put on the mummy wrap after the church play, and before they went on their 'wild ride' around the county.

"This don't really look like blood. It's too light."

"Add a little blue," Joey suggested, "Not much, and it ought to look a lot more like blood."

Calvin asked, "So the three of us will be riding in the cab, and Chris will stay in the casket the whole time?"

"Yeah, that's the plan. He needs to stay in the casket so he'll be ready all the time, in case we see a group of kids we want to scare."

"What kids?" Chris asked. "Everybody's probably going to be at the Presbyterian Retreat down on the river! Everybody but us! We've got to put on this stupid play, while they're down there having fun!"

"All the more reason why we're doing this!" Joey said. "If we can't be down at the river, we can at least have fun on our terms! Cory's got use of his Dad's truck, and we've got a casket! What else do we need?"

"We need someone else to be the dead man!" Chris said. "I don't know if I can lay in that thing with the lid shut while Cory is driving! I'm likely to be killed!"

"Well at least you'll already be on a casket!" Calvin piped.

"Being in there is probably the safest place to be, if we wreck," Cory said. "You have the added protection of the padded casket! Ask yourself this question: Have I ever heard of anyone being killed in a casket?"

"That's a dumb question!"

"You've got to be the dead man, Chris! You look the part! You look like death warmed over already!"

"Thanks a lot, Bro!"

"This is going to be so cool!" Cory said. "We're going to scare the c.r.a.p out of a lot of people! The chicks are going to be so scared! And when chicks get scared, they want a big hug! I plan to be right there to give them a hug!"

"Yuck!" Calvin said. What's so great about that?"

"Somebody is coming."

"Is it Mom?'

"No, it's Rebecca."

"What are you guys doing out here?"

"Getting ready for the play. Did Mom send you?"

"Yes, she said to come eat, before supper gets cold."

"We're almost done." Joey said. "Heard anything more about Mr. Deason?"

"Yes, they just had something on the news. They have not identified the body yet, but it's probably Mr. Deason."

"Wow. I wonder what happened? He wasn't so old that he couldn't get out in time. He might have had a heart attack or something."

Rebecca wasn't going to repeat what she had just heard from Janice, so she echoed this thought. "The news said he was found in the kitchen area, so he might have been cooking something, and had a heart attack. It is plausible that a grease fire could burn the house down.

"As bad as the house was burned, he was probably a crispy critter when they found him."

"Speaking of crispy critters, Mom has fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans for supper. First ones there gets the b.r.e.a.s.t.s!"

Chris was the last one to leave the garage, because he had to unwrap himself from the shredded sheets. I'll probably be left with the neck and thigh, Chris thought, as he got himself untangled.

Penelope heard the news report as well, when she was dropped off at Vance's house. Still dressed in her b.l.o.o.d.y clothes, she almost panicked when she heard that they had found a body there. She knew it was her Dad, because she had killed him, but she was hoping that the fire would burn him up completely, if that was even possible. She wondered if the knife was still in his chest, when they found him. Of course, why wouldn't it be? She tried to pull it out, but she had shoved it so deep, that the hilt edge of the large blade caught under a rib, and she couldn't pull it out, so she left it there.

Of course, it was self defense. She drew the knife out of a counter-top holder, and threatened to kill him, if he came any closer, but he wasn't even afraid of her! He kept walking closer and closer, and telling her that she couldn't kill him, because he loved her, and wanted to take care of her! Here, put the knife down, Penny, and give your Dad a big hug! I'm so glad you came back home to me! It'll be just like old times! Just you and me! I promise I won't hurt you! I love you too much to . . .

That was as far as he got. She growled like a wild animal, . . . an animal cornered and threatened with certain death. She screamed out some unidentifiable profanity, and lunged at him, forcing the knife blade so deep into his chest, that only the handle could be seen.

Her Dad was frozen with shock, that she had actually stabbed him. It was a deadly strike, right through the heart. His clawed hands gripped her shoulders, not in anger, but in death. She felt his fingers trembling as he sank to his knees, his eyes still wide open, in a gla.s.sy, unseeing gaze. He was trying to say something, but his mouth would not form the words, as blood filled his left lung. He doesn't deserve any last words, she thought, as he gurgled grunted his last seconds of life away. She tried to withdraw the knife, to plunge it into him again, and again, and again, just like he used to repeatedly plunge his awful member into her body, again, and again, and again, but the blade would not come out. She released the knife handle and stepped back, to allow him to sink to his knees, then fall face-down in the floor. Falling on the knife handle only drove the blade deeper, and caused the point to protrude from his back. "Die, you filthy b.a.s.t.a.r.d! Die!" He had no choice but to obey her.

He was dead.

Finally, he was dead!

That awful man, whose face was the face on every monster, in every nightmare she had suffered through, for the past 30 years of her life, was finally dead! She felt like she had slain a vicious dragon, a demon possessed dragon that molested and raped little girls, and impregnated them with seeds from the Devil himself! She couldn't believe that he was really dead. That someone so evil could even be killed! Nor could she believe that she had killed him! She was horrified, yet elated! And it was so easy! She should have mustered up the courage to do this 30 years ago, and she could have freed herself then, and saved herself from what seemed like an eternity of tortured existence.

This moment was sweet. So sweet, that she just stood there and watched in fascination, as the dark red blood pool widened and spread across the kitchen linoleum. She smiled, and said the words audibly, so that she could savor them with all her senses. "You sorry b.a.s.t.a.r.d! You are dead, and I, Penny, your 'precious little girl', have killed you! May you burn in h.e.l.l forever!" She kicked him in the head, but he didn't feel it.

Realizing that she was covered with blood, she went to the kitchen sink to wash it off her hands and arms. As she washed, she turned and gazed at the body of her father, just to be sure he didn't rise up and come after her, the way monsters in the movies did. But Bob Deason was not getting up. He was as dead as a wedge. Her blouse was also soaked red. That would never do. She knew she had to get out of here, if Janice was still out there waiting for her. She went to her old room and grabbed the first bulky thing she saw in the closet, which was her old brown jacket from her High School days. That would cover her b.l.o.o.d.y blouse. She grabbed her family Bible to leave, but she had one more thought, to destroy the evidence that she had been here.

She put a skillet on the stove, and turned the eye on 'high'. As it heated, she filled the skillet with vegetable oil, then rolled off a whole roll of paper towels on top the stove. She sloshed oil on them as well, just for good measure. She turned to go, and didn't look back.

"I found my Bible," she said to Janice, as she climbed into her Blazer. "Let's get out of here before my Dad returns from town!"

"Is that blood on your pants?" Janice asked.

Startled by the question, she instantly replied, "Yes, I cut my finger while I was looking in the kitchen, but it's okay. Let's get out of here!"

She hated that Janice had seen that blood, but it was okay. She had the feeling that everything was going to be okay after this.

She had been home all afternoon, and had her boyfriend's house all to herself. Her boyfriend was presently in jail for drug possession, and trafficking, and would probably not be out for awhile, so she had time to think, and seriously contemplate what had happened.

The fact was, she had just murdered her father, and burned his house down, with him in it. She should have felt bad, but she didn't. For the first time in her life, she felt truly free. There was no need for the booze or the drugs anymore. They were just the band-aids that had covered the open wounds from her tortured childhood. What she had just done, was the cure for all the things that had been wrong with her. Now she felt that she could heal and be a normal person, a normal wife, a normal mother and grandmother, because the cancer, which had eaten away at her soul all these years had been eradicated.

So what now? Well, nothing, if the murder couldn't be linked to her. She would say 'take a hike' to her sleazy boyfriend. She would get a job, rent an apartment, and then set about trying to repair her broken life, by showing her loved ones that she was really cured.

Even if the law caught up with her, and she went to prison for what she had done, at least her soul would still be free, even if her body was incarcerated. In jail or out, she would be a new person, someone that she actually liked for a change.

Having heard the news report, she now looked at herself. She was still wearing the b.l.o.o.d.y blouse. It was ruined. The blood was dried in, but that was okay. Wal-Mart sold new blouses every day. She went to the bathroom, and disrobed, putting all her b.l.o.o.d.y clothes in a garbage bag for disposal. She examined herself in the mirror. Hmm, not bad. Her body was still marketable as a s.e.xy lady, as long as she cleaned up her act. She turned on the shower and stepped in, washing off the grime, sweat and blood of her former life, hoping that society would let her have the chance to start anew.

30.

Tuesday morning broke much too soon for Travis. He lay in bed, afraid to move, for fear that his head was going to explode. Drew and his Mom had already gone down to breakfast, but he would not be eating anything this morning, and probably not all day. Just the thought of eating anything nauseated him. He rolled over on his side to a.s.sess the damage, and only succeeded in liberating a long trumpet-like blast from the neither regions, to which he muttered to himself, "The hang-over afflicted Travis-Bird, usually a shy and elusive creature, trumpets the arrival of a new day!" He laughed at this, but immediately wished he hadn't, because it made his head throb terribly.

Got to get up. What's on the agenda for today? Certainly not going to another pub! I swear, that is my last hang-over! I will never drink again!

He got up, and went to the bathroom to get a drink of water for his dry cotton-mouth. Brushing his teeth helped. He p.i.s.sed another long 'Yellow River' into the toilet, as he liberated one more long and impressive trumpet-like blast. Apparently Irish ale was notorious for that. Just how many pints did I drink last night? It was all just a blur. Head still throbbing, he went to the suitcase to get a clean shirt and pants. He emptied out the contents of his old pants on the night stand beside the phone, and saw the hand-written note left by his mother.

"Call Janice when you get in, no matter how late it is. Mom."

Call Janice? It had better be an emergency. Let's see. 8am here, minus five hours. It is 3am in Alabama. I'm sure Janice didn't mean for me to call her at 3 in the morning. I'll call at noon, that will be 7am at home.

He went down to breakfast, and prepared himself a cup of iced coffee, in spite of how good everything looked. His Mom and Mrs. Parker were sitting together, and Drew and Audrey were sitting together at a separate table.

"Morning kids." he said as he pa.s.sed Drew.

"Still alive, Dad?"

"Barely." He stopped in his tracks. "What time did you get in last night?"

"Before you did!"

"Oh yeah, that's right. Good job." He hobbled on to the table with his Mom. "Is this seat taken, Ladies?"

"No, have a seat," Mrs. Parker said.

"Did you see the note from Janice?"

"Yep!"

"Did you call her?"

"Nope! I didn't want to wake her at 3am."

"You were supposed to call her last night."

"Well, I didn't."

"How late did you stay at that bar?"

"No comment."

"Are you going with us today?"

"Where?"

"The bus leaves in 30 minutes, going to Stonehenge, then on to Salisbury Cathedral, and then Manchester Cathedral."

"I can't miss Stonehenge, that's a highlight for me in England. But after that, I have my second book signing at noon in Manchester. I'll have to go on ahead of the group after leaving Stonehenge to make it in time. I may have to miss the cathedrals, and get back to London on my own a little later. I'll try to call Janice when I get to Manchester, before the book signing."

"She specifically told me to have you call her last night."

"But it wasn't an emergency?"

"She didn't say, but she was upset with me, letting you go to a bar, and letting Drew go out with the girls."

"Then that's why she wanted me to call, so she could bawl me out. No, I'll call her this afternoon, after she has time to cool off."

Tuesday morning Miranda got up and reviewed what she had to do over a cup of coffee. It seemed simple, so she got busy. She got out a garbage bag and went to the freezer. She un-piled bags of vegetables until she found the head and picked it up by its gray hair, and dropped it into the bag. It took some hunting, because it was so small, but she finally found the frozen little p.r.i.c.k and looked at it scornfully. "This is all your fault!" she said, as she threw it into the bag. She added a few bags of veggies, then rolled it up and took it to her trunk. Then she went into the house to call Lennie.

"Hey, Lennie!"

"Miranda? I'm surprised that you're calling me!"

"I just called to make sure you took the medicine like you were supposed to."

"Not yet, but I will."

"Have you eaten breakfast yet?"

"Naw, I usually don't eat breakfast."

"Well, some of the medicine you are supposed to take, is supposed to be taken with food, or else you will get sick."

"Sick? I didn't know that."

"Tell you what, why don't you get up and get dressed, and I'll take you to the Huddle House for breakfast."

"Really? You would do that for me?"

"Sure. What are friends for? Get dressed and bring your medicine with you, and I will pick you up in fifteen minutes."

"Okay! I will!"

She brushed her hair, and checked herself in the mirror, then grabbed her purse on the way to the door. In ten minutes, she pulled up in Lennie's driveway, and she pulled in at such an angle that she would have to back up toward the old well. She waited there until Lennie came out the carport door, and rushed to her car.

"Okay, I'm ready to go!"

"Wait! You're not wearing that shirt, are you?"

"Uh, yeah."

"No, no, no! It is dirty, and has a hole in the shoulder! Go back and put on something a little nicer."

"But this is the best I got."