Good Riddance

 I'm not sure they should be doing that, but I was never one to stop bad decisions. I watched my little brothers, Benjamin and Joshua, pass a ball to each other close to our neighbours low fence. I slumped onto the ground, and threw the shovel down beside me. The wet grass soaked through my jeans, and a shiver ran up my spine. My feet dangled in the grave we just dug. I watched my brothers pass the ball back and forth, and prepared to console them when they lost that ball to the neighbours.

My older brother, Aaron, opened our back door, and dragged the tarp behind him. I jumped up from the ground, and ran over to him. My arms ached from digging the grave for the past few hours. Pain shot up through my muscles as I grabbed the other end of the tarp. I saw Ryan's ratty old shoes sticking out from the tarp. I fought against the pungent taste of bile threatening to come up when I saw his blood pooling in the middle of the tarp.

Aaron and I were both panting for breath as we dragged Ryan's heavy body over to his grave. We dug up part of our mother's failed vegetable garden. She gave up gardening last summer, and had not touched the back corner of the yard since then. We dropped the body into the grave, and it landed with a thud. I looked over my shoulder to see Benjamin kick the ball, it fly over Joshua's head, and land right into the yard next door. Joshua fell to the ground and cried.

Aaron shoveled a load of dirt into the grave and looked up at me.

"You better deal with that, Tabby," he told me. "Don't want him bringing out all of the neighbours."

I nodded my head and walked over to Joshua. He was on his knees, and his hands were through the small holes of the chain link fence. He curled his fingers in and out, like somehow that would roll the ball closer to him.

"Joshy," I said kneeling on the ground next to him. "Let's go inside and have a bath before going to bed."

"My ball." He grabbed the fence and gave it a shake. The clink of the chain against the metal poles rang throughout the neighbourhood. A dog from a nearby house started to bark.

"We'll get you a new one tomorrow," I told him. "I'll give you a cookie before bed, Josh. Let's go inside."

I grabbed one of his hands and pulled him up onto his feet. I dragged him behind me into the house. Benjamin had picked up my shovel and helped Aaron fill the hole. I knew he would give up in a few minutes and come inside.

I ran Joshua a bath while gathering his pajamas. Josh had taken off his clothes and was running around from room to room naked.

"Bathroom. Now," I told him.

Josh ran into the bathroom, and stuck his toe in the bath water. Little by little, he sat down in the hot water. I tossed a few of his toys in the water, and he played and splashed around. I looked out the window to see Aaron was filling the grave alone. I looked down at my sore hands, to see the open blisters and cuts that I had accumulated from digging.

I sat down on the soft rug beside the tub, and Joshua looked up at me.

"Do you remember what Aaron and I told you about Ryan?" I asked him.

"He left Mommy," Joshua said.

After Aaron had plunged the kitchen knife into Ryan's chest, we had spent over an hour coaching Benjamin and Joshua about what to say. Our mother was coming back from her weekend away tomorrow morning. I had forged a letter in Ryan's sloppy handwriting about how he was having an affair, and was leaving her for his mistress.

"Exactly," I said. "Now where is Ryan?"

Joshua shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. He left."

I washed Joshua's curly blond hair, and felt the sting of the shampoo against my hands. When I finished, I toweled him off, and helped him put on his pajamas. The bathroom mirror had steamed up, and I could feel the sweat build up on my forehead. I pulled my hoodie over my head. The sleeve and bra strap was still torn from when Ryan tried to force himself on me in the kitchen earlier.

Joshua and Benjamin were sitting beside each other on the couch watching cartoons. I peered into the kitchen to see a pool of blood on the white tiles. I grabbed the box of cookies from on top of the fridge. I handed them each a cookie.

"Five minutes, and then up to bed," I told them.

I got a couple of groans as a response. I walked over to the closet, and pulled out every cleaning supply I could find. I rested mops and rags against the kitchen table. I carried an armful of bleach and cleaning products, and placed them down onto the table. Aaron came in through the backdoor. He wiped his hands on his jeans, and readjusted his baseball cap on his head.

"It's done," he told me.

I nodded my head and walked over to the television. I turned it off, and my brothers complained.

"Bedtime now," I said. "No arguing."

Both of them pouted and stormed up the stairs. I followed behind them. I tucked each of them in and planted a kiss on each of their foreheads.

Down in the kitchen, Aaron was at the sink washing the dirt that had collected in his blisters. I opened up the container of bleach and poured it on the tile. I grabbed a sponge, and got on my hands and knees. The bleach made my hands feel like they were on fire. I gritted my teeth together as I scrubbed away the blood. Aaron got down on his knees and joined me.

"How long had this been going on for?" Aaron asked me.

"Since he moved in," I said. The smell of the bleach was causing my nose and eyes to water. "He would come into my room late at night. He would be drunk."

"He's always drunk, Tabby," he said. "I don't know what Mom saw in him."

"She won't see much of him anymore," I said wryly.

The blood was staining the tile. No matter how hard we scrubbed, the crimson blood wasn't going anywhere. We mixed a concoction of multiple cleaners until we found something that cleaned up the mess of blood.

By the time we were able to crawl into bed, the sun was already rising. I was drifting off to sleep when I heard Mom's keys jingle as she unlocked the front door. Her footsteps echoed through the house. She let out a cry, and I knew she found our fake letter.