Killers: A Watchers Novella

Fall

Edna hoped that Therese's juvenile attraction to Father Gary would diminish over time. The longer she spent her Sundays shooting sultry looks to a priest, the more certain it was that she'd get her heart broken. In a perfect world, Therese would grow out of that ridiculous crush and instead find meaning in the social programs that Father Gary was developing.

By the fall, he's giving short sermons every day of the week and welcoming his first overnight guests to the homeless shelter.

Edna knows all of this from the reports that Therese brings back with her each night as she spends more and more time at the Haven. Edna herself has not gone back, but it's clear even from a distance that Therese is still head-over-heels for the priest.

One morning while she's getting ready to catch the bus to the slaughterhouse and Therese is staring wistfully into a plate of scrambled eggs and evangelizing Father Gary, Edna reaches a breaking point.

"I never had a thing for church before," Therese says dreamily, "but Father Gary really knows how to rock that clerical collar."

"You know he's a priest, right?" Edna snaps. "He's never going to be with you." Therese looks at her like Edna just slapped her across the face, and Edna immediately feels guilty. "I just don't want you to get your hopes up - that's all."

"Hope is all we have," Therese says, parroting a phrase that she's picked up from Father Gary and repeats often these days.

"You have a lot," Edna says sharply.

She'd like to point out the apartment, the eggs, the clothes on Therese's back. It's a lot more than many people in this area have, but if she doesn't hurry down to the bus stop, she'll be late to her shift and some of that stuff might start slipping away from them. It's hard work to keep it all together, and Edna wishes Therese could acknowledge that every once in a while.

"You're old enough to work now," she says. "Didn't you say a few months ago that you might like to work in a restaurant?"

The money Therese could bring in at a job like that wasn't great - there were very few good jobs for a young girl like Therese these days, but Edna would like to see her contributing to the household. It's what Mom and Dad would want, but Edna always has a hard time broaching the subject.

"That was before Father Gary," Therese says.

"You could work and still help out at the Haven," Edna points out.

"I spend more than forty hours a week there now," Therese says. "I'm doing a lot for Father Gary."

"Father Gary. That's all you care about - not the homeless he's serving or the jobs he says he's creating," Edna says, letting her frustrations out for the first time since Therese found the Haven that summer. "Go ahead and fall in love with a celibate man. You're an adult now and you've got to start learning your own lessons."

This is the meanest thing Edna has thought about her sister since they were kids and she doesn't like what this new adult dynamic is doing to their relationship.

She puts on her non-slip boots and says, "I'm going to work."

She doesn't say, Enjoy your day, or I'll be home around six, or even, How about meatloaf for dinner? like she usually does. She just leaves Therese at the dining table and marches out the door, shutting it loudly behind her.

* * *

Edna always knows when her bus stop is coming up, even if she's not paying attention.

The slaughterhouse is a few miles outside of the city and it has a very distinctive odor. All the other bus passengers begin to squirm in their seats and breathe through their mouths when they get close. It's the smell of metallic blood and rotting meat, which festers in the drainpipes and occasionally makes its way out to the sewers around the slaughterhouse.