October 30, 2015 Comments Off on Hoping for Gravy By Robin White
Justin dropped his brother-in-law’s tongue into the road, knocked the dust off his boots, and stepped back into his car. Whistling through his teeth, he eyeballed his brother.
“Now,” said Justin. “We’re gonna wait for that son’bitch out there to bleed to death and then two things are gonna happen. An’ you listen good, now, a’right? I ain’t gonna untie you and I ain’t gonna un-gag you. What I’m thinkin’ to do is, I’m gonna kill you. An’ I’m gonna talk. Don’t squirm now, don’t squirm. Just stay the fuck still, little brother, or I’ll make it hurt like I did that little bitch out there.”
Justin leant over his brother and looked out the open passenger-side window. His brother-in-law, bleeding from his mouth onto the road, was squirming in the dust. Blood had pooled across the dying man’s shirt and the back of his jeans, and Justin grinned at the memory of the noises he’d made.
“I’m gonna kill you quick, cuz we’s family, and I love you. But you ain’t right is all. So I’m gonna shoot you, real quick, in the side o’ the head, and then I’ll go home and see the family. I’ll tell ‘em a real nice goodbye from ya’, and I’ll tell my boys that their uncle’s in heaven, where there ain’t no fuckin’ queers to turn them from the ri-chuss.”
Justin wiped his bloody knife across his brother’s jeans then freed his gun and rested it against his brother’s temple, forcing his head out the window. On the dash, the radio crackled into life, but he ignored the sound.
“I told you. I gave you chance. I said don’t be a cock sucker. I told you. A’right? Don’t be tellin’ Jesus and all ‘em apostles that I din’t give you no chance, cuz that dog ain’t gonna hunt. Man. You know what? I’m havin’ steak and eggs tonight.”
Justin pulled the trigger, opened the passenger side door, and rolled his brother into the dirt next to his brother-in-law who had long ago stopped moving. Satisfied and with ringing ears, Justin pulled the door shut, gunned the engine, and then headed back towards town. He was thinking about steak and eggs and hoping for gravy.
© 2015 Robin White
Robin White is a twenty-six year old writer and teacher from the United Kingdom. He’s been previously been published in Dogzplot and has pieces upcoming in Pidgeonholes and the Eunoia Review.