The Butcher

Scene 4

Wendy put a tough hand on his, looking down slowly from the tree she had previously been scanning over. 

"Bill, honey, will you get me another bucket? These apples are big this time, aren't they?" 

Bill nodded quickly with a minute smile playing on his features for a moment before he took off dashing through the damp grass of a morning's fog. He could smell the wet earth beneath him and soft breeze pushed floral scents in his nose from the flower gardens not too far from where he ran through the emerald sea. 

He released a sigh into the fresh morning air, and forcefully tugged at the wooden door to the tool shed. As light streamed inside the dark room, the visual before him suddenly drained him of all senses. His thoughts couldn't even process properly. 

His name was Nate. He was a farm hand around the house and a Caribbean man. His naked body, which Bill had only ever seen clothed, was now thrusting back and forth on his mother's own bare body. On the polished wooden floor of the tool shed, they lie naked copulating before his very eyes. 

Bill took in a breath, and backed away. At first, too stunned to understand what he was witnessing, and then with recollection hitting him like a heavy stone, he dashed from the scene, the two lovers awakening from their steamy trance to notice him. He heard a curse escape each of their mouths, but he paid no mind as he dashed across the fields, away from the blooming flowers of a sweltering heat, and into the orchard where Wendy stood with a look of pure confusion eating away at her features. "Bill, what happened?" 

Bill felt his face but only felt sweat. No tears yet. he had to maintain that, he was speaking with a lady afterall. 

"Mother was in the shed with Nate! With Nate! They were naked, Wendy, and having..sex.." Bill informed her, ending the sentence with sickening discomfort.

Wendy gasped, putting hands over her mouth and fear set in her eyes for she unfortunately beared the knowledge of what his mother was probably going to do to him to ensure he kept quiet about her affair. 

"Go in the house, Bill. Go in the house, alright?" 

Bill nodded quickly, though his finger yearned to grab around her light blue dress and hide behind the fabric in a sea of comfort. He dashed madly to the door, swung it open and quickly made it to his bedroom, happy to find blankets and sheets restored to their proper place on his bed. 

He bent below the window and slowly moved upwards, flashes of the memory of his mother and Nate rolling naked around on the dirty floor of a shed. He'd never saw sex before, his father had only ever told him what it looked like. What it was. 

His father told him a lot of things no one really ever approved of. 

He stood, his eyes peeking over the stone and at his mother's calm frame walking toward's Wendy who continued to casually pick apples as though nothing had ever happened. Nate walked alongside her. 

Words formed on his mother's lips, and after a few moments were shared, his mother began swiftly making her way to the house. Wendy looked feverently at the window where she knew Bill would be hiding beneath, peeking over secretly. 

She gave a look of apology and instantly Bill could forgive her. But only her. 

He bit his lip and made his way to the bed, sitting down quietly and biting his lips in anxiety as the door slammed open and he flinched. Creaky footsteps made their way  beside him. 

The  they stopped.

In the thick silence, a sudden heavy breath broke the silence like fine china and a hot breath going down his already sweating back made him cringe. 

He looked up slowly to be caught with the eye of his mother, looming over him as it seemed. Nate stood soundly in the doorway. 

"Mother.." Bill whispered, looking with pleading eyes at her before she turned on her heels. 

'Mother, no, pl-" Bill whined, leaving out the word 'please'  in rememberance of what happened the last time he had said the word.

Jumping from the bed and trying to make a break for the door, it was quickly slammed in his face, the last sight he saw was the glare of the dark man, his eyes boring into his crystalline eyes.

It was cold again that night with the window open and unable to be closed.

He knew very well what would happen if he dare try to close it. 

Though the sheets, at least,  helped.