Acre Under a Green Sky

Garry and I had settled on an 8AM break-in. The plan was to find the bloody knife, but I had another trophy in mind. And if there was time, I might find Angel's comic books for Danny.

"This is stupid," Garry said, as he proceeded me through the kitchen window knocking the radio into the sink full of dishes, "We're never going to find that knife."

"Why not?"

"Cause every cop in the world looked for it and it's not here. Let's get naked."

"Brilliant! I'm going to find the knife."

"Well, I'm going to jerk off in their bathroom."

"Suit yourself."

I could have slit my throat when I said that, because my father was always saying, "Suit yourself." It was his white flag; his surrender. He thought he was being liberal, but he was just pouting. I hated it.

Another thing I hated was masturbation, because everyone was doing it and I couldn't. I knew how. Everyone told me how. Garry showed me how, but nothing happened. It was dumb. A few years later, of course, it would become my life's work.

I went straight to Marilyn's room –– to the baton. I held it in my hands; felt its weight and balance, and suddenly all of its appeal vanished. I didn't need to have it anymore. I was overcome with a kind of sadness. I missed Marilyn.

I gave the baton a clumsy twirl and heard a clink come from inside the baton. There was something in there. I began twisting the large rubber knob off when I heard the front door open and male voices entering the house. I turned round and round like a fool before running out into the hall. The bathroom door was closed and I couldn't get it open. Garry was pushing it shut from the other side. I whispered Garry's name through the door and barely heard him say, "Hide!"

The two men were starting up the stairs. I ran into Luka's room and did another stupid reel round and round looking for a place to disappear. I got in the closet just as the men reached the top of the stairs. It was pitch black in there, but there was plenty of room thanks to my mother's raid for funeral clothes. The baton was still in my hand though I couldn't see it. I sat on the closet floor and knocked something over with my foot or the baton, I'm not sure which. The sound of it exploded in my blood-soaked brain like a bomb. My ears were throbbing with terror, and I held my breath to stop the bellows-like roar of my breathing. Without thinking, I reached in the blackness for the thing I had knocked over as if making it right would erase the sound it had made. The two men were in the room now. My one free hand groped in the dark until it lighted on something smooth like cold skin. It had shape. It was a bottle –– nearly full by the weight of it –– a stashed liquor bottle.

The baton might as well have been a serpent for all the control I had of it. Finally, I got it rested across my lap without a sound, and I was still.

Only then did the voices filter in as if someone had slowly turned up the volume. One of them I recognized as Will Mosko, Chief of Police. The other man was a stranger to me.

"Well, not off. The nightgown was ripped open. It was actually in a ball around her waist," Will was saying.

"Was she raped?"

"No, none of them."

"Any of them insured?"

"Nope."

"So it started here, you figure?"

"If you say so."

"Don't fuck with me, Will. This man is going to the chair. You understand?

"Yes, sir."

"This was premeditated as hell. Smart, but first degree right down to his bloody shorts."

"Whatever you say."

"Look, we need your cooperation with this thing. I'm real sorry bringing Dave in, but this is a job for the County and he is the Sheriff."

"I don't give a shit about that. Luka was my friend . . . "

"Exactly!"

" . . . and you want to burn his ass."

"You saw the kids! You saw what he did to that woman!"

"He must be crazy."

"That's it! Right there! That's what we're up against. Insanity. Well, crazy men don't hide the murder weapon, get it?!"

"I'm way ahead of you, Matt. But you're wrong. This is all wrong. Dead wrong."

"Take another look at those kids, Will. No, here! Here! I got snapshots. Take a look. Here! Who's wrong? Who did wrong here?"

Everything became deathly still for what seemed like an eternity. I began to wonder if they had left the room, when the stranger broke the silence.

"You didn't think he was going to get away with this, did you? Friend or no friend. Now, this Wiley guy . . . "

"Josh Wiley. He found them."

"Right. You're sure he didn't see anything?"

"Positive. He would have told me."

"What a schmuck! First time out, and he takes me on. Made in heaven. It was all I could do not to kiss his cheek yesterday. Now, where's this bathroom? I want to see that tub."

"Right through here."

My heart stopped. Garry was made. There was no escape. They would find Garry in the bathroom. In about one minute, they're going to open this door, and I'll be dead, too. But nothing happened. I could hear the sound of muffled voices through the wall and then the sound of the toilet flushing. I found the door knob and opened the closet door a crack. They were heading down the stairs. Then they were out the front door and gone.

I dropped the baton on the closet floor and ran into the bathroom. There was no place there for Garry to hide. I called out Garry's name in a whisper. Still, nothing. Where could he be? The open window next to the toilet! He must be hanging out the window. I stuck my head far out the window and was startled to see Will and the other man on the ground just below. Almost simultaneously, I felt a tap on my shoulder and withdrew so quickly I bumped my head hard on the window. Garry was right behind me smiling that stupid smile. I know the two men below heard the bump on the window. I'm sure they did. Garry was giggling now and whispering about how he had sneaked out of the bathroom and into Marilyn's room. I expected the two men back any second, but they never came. We were safe.

We looked out Luka's bedroom window and watched the two men drive off in separate cars. Only then did I begin to breathe normally.

"I finished under Marilyn's bed. Jerking off. It was great."

"Do you know what a 'schmuck' is?"

"What?"

"He called my Dad a 'schmuck'."

"Never heard of it."

Garry was helping me down to the ground from the kitchen window when something suddenly occurred to him:

"Oh! They found the knife in the bathtub. The morning after the murders. I heard them talking in the bathroom."