The Old Bones

There's Hell to Pay

"Now god damn it Clint, watch what the fuck you're doin'," Harvey ripped the mason jar out of Clint's hand, "you think it was easy sneakin' this shine out past the old man?" He took a healthy swig, the burn going down was easy, breathing out the fumes afterwards however made his eyes water. "Hot damn that sonofabitch knows where to get it, don' he?" Harvey coughed as he took a fresh breath in, the tickle from trying to talk after taking a drink was a little much for him to handle.

"I reckon Harvey." Clint smiled, the alcohol was already getting to his brain, making him dumber and gigglier by the second. "So when's you wantin' to take care of them Rhodes boys?" Clint held out his hand, waiting for Harvey to pass back the jar.

"Why's it matter to you? You just gonna run off again." Harvey sat the mason jar down beside him on the garage floor. "You're a fuckin chicken Clint. Why the hell do we keep you around anyway?"

"I ain't no chicken Harvey, I already told you I saw somethin' up there in them woods." Clint's hand was still out, it didn't click yet that Harvey wasn't wanting to share anymore of the drink with him. "And besides, as soon as my daddy gets outta jail, he's gonna be back here and get me."

"You didn't see nothin', you chicken shit, and why the hell would your daddy wanna come back here to get you? He's probably a shit ton happier up there. He ain't got you to worry 'bout, they keep food in his belly, and all he's gotta do is sit around on his ass. Sounds like heaven to me. Only thing keepin' me from goin' to that sweet gig, is I like women too much to give 'em up." Harvey kicked his feet up on an old bucket he used to get baths in as a baby, and ran his hands through his greasy hair, resting his hands on the back of his head.

"That ain't fair to say to me Harvey," Clint bucked up on his makeshift seat, "Daddy ain't gonna do what Momma done. He ain't just gonna leave me high and dry."

"Least your Momma is still breathin' somewhere's Clint. Now, shut your damn mouth 'fore I shut it for you." Harvey never did know how his mother passed away, he just knew that anytime he had ever brought it up to his father, he would just get real mean about it and start hitting on him; eventually, Harvey got wise to just keeping his questions to himself.

A silence fell on the garage for several minutes, a strong breeze flowed through the yellowing leaves of the woods outside. The smell of oil and gasoline stirred up into the boy's noses. "Where'd your daddy get off to anyway? Wouldn't it have been easier to take the shine after he done left?"

"Well, no shit, it woulda been easier jackass, but I didn't know he was goin' nowhere. He said he was gonna go huntin' or some shit. I'm guessin' he just felt like havin' the cool breeze on him, while he drank himself stupid. Hope he pisses himself and gets sick." Harvey got up from his bucket and walked over to the door, he planted his hands on the old rotten frame and leaned his body outside, catching some soft gusts of wind on his face. "Sonofabitch Clint, looky looky who we got runnin' up this way. It's our good buddy Court. Let's get that fucker." Harvey ran over to his jacket and dug through the pockets to find his switchblade; he clicked it open and smiled at Clint, his younger cousin grinned back at him, giddy with excitement. Today, you're gonna bleed Court. "Come on dumbass, we can't kill him if he gets to town." Court ran past the garage, never looking back or really even noticing that his two friends came running out after him. The only thing he could think of was to get as far away from his house as he could, as fast as he could.

Court was crossing through the back lot of the company store when he felt a force land on the tops of his shoulders, bringing him down into the damp soil littered with gravel not yet buried in the ground. Small pieces of rocks dug into the palms of his hands as he slid to a stop, mud caked into the tiny ridges of his skin and all over the front of his clothes. The rough landing was met with a boot slamming into his ribcage, the breath rushed out of Court's lungs; he tried to scurry away so he could keep running. Harvey grabbed him by the sleeve of his shirt and rolled him over, poking his knife to the bottom of Court's eye. "Didn't think we'd ever catch you. Even with your dumbass not wearin' any shoes." His breath burned at Court's nose, and the smell afterwards made it apparent that he had never heard of a tooth brush. "Where you runnin off to so fast Court? You didn't even stop to tell us good mornin'." Harvey moved his face in closer, pressing his knee into Court's stomach."