10:58 AM

5
May 5, 1986
10:58 AM

     Bill woke up in a sweat, but the sensation soon faded. He was back at home. Everything he had done, all the people he had left behind, were safely tucked away from view. He got up and went out to the kitchen.
     "Hey, hon," his mother said, getting up to pour him a cup of coffee. "How did you sleep?"
     He felt a bit of guilt looking into his momma's eyes, but she didn't know what was in his true heart, and she couldn't get at it either no matter how hard she tried.
     Bill's father had been a different man the previous night, treating Bill to a nice cognac and a fine cigar. Bill was a college graduate now, his father told him, it was a cause for celebration. Of course, Bill knew better than to expect that this would ever be repeated, but it was a nice change of welcome. Bill's father respected him, if ever so slightly, in a way he never had previously.
     And he had killed a man in cold blood and left him to his death.
     Bill wanted to chat with Caleb, but that was closed off for now. For at least a few months if not a couple years. The biggest mistake a killer could make was to return to the scene of the crime, and that included getting back in contact with your fellow criminals.
     "What are you going to do today, honey? You want to come into town with me?"
     "No," Bill said. "I'm kinda tired."
     "I know. Tomorrow then, or the next day. I know there's a bunch of people want to say, 'hi" in town. Want to congratulate you."
     "I know, momma. Tomorrow."
     She nodded and then walked off with the her long chain of keys to the family station wagon. The door to the garage closed and Bill could hear the rumble of the engine and the garage door being flung open.
     Just then, Bill's brother Tommy walked into the kitchen, perhaps timing it for their mother's escape.
     "Hey," Bill said.
     "Hey," Tommy said. "You going to be home all day?"
     "I think so. Why, am I cramping you're style?"
     "No, dude, I'm just wondering, that's all."
     "You need a haircut."
     "Thanks, dad," Tommy said. "What's it to you, anyway?"
     "You'll look like a hippy."
     "What's the big deal about that? The hippies were cool."
     "Hippies were not cool, Tommy. They burned out and ended up in jail or died or else they cleaned up and got square jobs, like everybody else."
     "Wow," Tommy said. "That's the daddiest thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth."
     Bill supposed Tommy was right. Bill usually was a bit more reserved with his opinions.
     "Anyway, you're going to make dad go crazy."
     "So what if I do? I'm not afraid of him."
     "I guess you're not," Bill said, clamming up.
     "Anyway, Bill," Tommy said. "Are you like a pastor now?"
     "I'm qualified to be a pastor. I got to find my flock."
     "You've got to find a group of suckers. You'll find one."
     "You think all pastors have to be the same?"
     "I know all pastors are the same."
     "What about me?"
     "You will definitely be the same."
     Their sister, Deirdre, emerged from the TV room. "Can you guys keep it down. I can't hear the television!"
     "Sorry," they both said.
     "Anyway," Tommy said. "I'm glad you're home. Takes some of the heat off of me and Deirdre."
     "Dad ever say anything bad about Deirdre?"
     "You're right. Just me, then."
     What would you think of me if you knew I killed a man?
     Looking at Tommy right now, Bill honestly believed that Tommy would think it was cool or something.
     There was a knock on the door.
     "Who's that?"
     Tommy ran over and opened up the door for a girl.
     "Hey Tommy," the girl said.
     He closed the door behind him so he could talk to her, then he came back inside for about a minute and a half before leaving with her.
     "Who was that?" Bill asked his sister.
     "That's Annie. That's Tommy's girlfriend."
     "He's got a girlfriend?"
     "Yeah, they're always making out. It's really gross."
     "Did you tell mom and dad anything?"
     She didn't look up from the television. "I'm always telling them, and they tell me they'll talk to him but they never do. I think they're not bothered by it or something."
     "Not bothered by it?"
     "Yeah, they let Tommy get away with anything ever since his suicide attempt."
     "His suicide attempt? When was this?"
     "While you were away."
     "So much has changed since I've been gone."
     "Yeah," Deirdre said, but she wanted to watch the television.