Possession

The Bone

2006

The tall brush swayed frantically along the lake's edge, betraying the position of the chocolate lab as it moved swiftly away from the grinding bulldozers. The bone in his mouth was unwieldy, swaying as she ran, banging into trees as it dodged the advances of two other dogs attempting to capture it from her jaw. The trio came to an opening, a yard of crabgrass and high oak trees, and they ran towards the shade of the A red frame house. When a hand reached down to grab the bone the lab jerked away from it, nearly falling over from the uneven weight of its load.

Dumb fuck.

Hank Newman tried to grab the bone again. The dog turned and ran, causing the two other dogs to spring into action. Hank looked out at the overgrown yard where the dogs frolicked, squinting through the tangle of trees towards the bright yellow bulldozers. He could hear the dim hum of their engines on the side of the lake. He turned and walked towards the house.

Hank hobbled slowly around the side of the house and up the stairs of the porch. He dropped into a chair next to his nephew, Jay. Jay's feet, cladin worn work boots, pressed against the beams of the wood porch so he could tilt his chair back until it nearly tipped back. He took a swig from the silver beer can and rested his sinewy forearm against his knee, his eyes on the workers milling about on the other side of the lake. A haze of branches obscured their view.

"Them state employees are putting the work in," Jay said, wiping drops of beer off the stubble around his mouth with the palm of hand

"Don't you worry," Hank replied, groaning as he dropped into his chair. "It's Friday, they won't be there long."

Jay turned toward his uncle, watching his lined face for an irritated reaction. "They'll put in the extra hours to take your pond."

"Fuck'in EPA," the older man said, his jaw tightening, making his weak chin look even smaller. As he spoke he heard the sliding door wisk open behind him and a blast of cool air blew over them.

"It's not the EPA," his wife stated, setting a bowl of chips and several cold beers on the table. "It's the department of conservation."

"Same thing, Lisa," her husband replied.

"They ain't takin it from you," she sighed, picking up dirty plates from the table. "It don't belong to you."

"Still my view, no matter if it's mine or not," Hank grumbled, smiling sideways, the skin on his face creating deep folds as he looked back at her. Lisa sighed and ducked back inside with her bounty of trash. The two men opened up new cans and slowly drained them to the muted sounds of engines roaring. At 3:30 the droning stopped, leaving the whistles and chirps of forest creatures to fill the noise void.

"See?" Hank said, suddenly excited, pointing his beer can toward the lake. "What did I tell you?"

"I don't disagree," Jay replied. "They're fuckin conservationists. They got to go shoot something before it gets dark."

"Got that right," Hank laughed and opened another beer, cursing the heat of the season. As Hank turned his attention to the newspaper, Jay's eyes turned downward to the dogs in the yard below. The lab, dumb fuck, lay down on her prize, a thick sliver of white, panting and waiting for the other dogs to overcome their heat exhaustion and chase her again. The dog looked up at him, her long tongue wagging limply.

"That bone's bigger than she is," Jay commented, scratching the stubble on his face.

"It's a deer leg," Hank replied absentmindedly, his eyes on the newspaper in his hand.

"It ain't deer season."

Hank looked up, glancing wearily at the dog.

"Dogs can kill deer any season," Hank replied.

"Dumb fuck couldn't kill a dead rat."

Jay stood up and stretched, his tall, lanky frame reaching out towards the peak of the A frame house. When Hank looked up from his paper he realized the young man was striding across the yard towards the animals. Lisa emerged from the house, quickly shutting the door to lock the cool air inside, and excalimed with a whooshing voice.

"My lord," she gasped as she opened a beer and poured it down her throat. She laid an arm covered in loose skin over the back of a chair. She watched Jay approach the dog and pull the bone out from under it. The exhausted dog lazily attempted to fight back but rolled over when Jay yanked the prize from it.

"He's gonna put it in the garbage?" she asked.

"He's gonna act like he knows what's going on," Hank replied, looking at the paper again.

The younger man looked up at them on the raised porch, then sauntered back across the yard, the bone tucked under his arm.

"Compost is over there," his aunt stated as he walked up on the porch, extending an arm towards the front of the house.

"I don't know about that," Jay mumbled.

"What don't you know?" Hank asked.

"I don't know.. much," Jay said absently. He set the bone against the side of the house and slouched down into his chair again.

"Well all right then, but leave it outside for God's sake," Lisa replied, returning to the comfort of the house.

At dusk, Jay walked through the brush on the wooded side of the lake, collecting burrs and cuts along the way. He stumbled on the loose leaves and dirt, his vision partly obscured. The dogs followed excitedly, crossing his path and causing him to nearly trip. He cursed at them and righted himself. He reached the bank that the bulldozers had cleared and approached the gash that cut the edge of the lake, piles of fresh, rocky dirt forming walls where the lake was draining out towards the swampy land below.

He looked over to the bulldozer, then walked around to each side. He climbed into the cab and saw there were no keys, but sat there for more than a few moments while the dogs waited for him below.

He walked back over to the gash and looked down at the steep hillside. Surrounded by the pits of trees in the blackness below he saw an upturned area, a hole to the side of the gash where something had been digging haphazardly. Taking poor assessment of his abilities he slid down the hill, cursing as he grabbed sticky brush and small trees to stop his momentum. He stumbled into the swampy woods, catching himself on a tree trunk.

"God damn it!' he said.

Catching his balance on the incline he looked back up to the top of the hill. The dogs had not remained on the top of the hill. They had slid down the hillside and gone directly for the hole. He walked over towards it, pushing them out of the way. In the quickly fading light of dusk he moved aside dirt to see what was inside.

"God damn it..." he muttered. "What in the living hell..."