January 30 2014

He Was a Good Dog. She Was a Good Man.

The dog was finally dead. Martin threw it into the wheelbarrow and rolled it to the edge of his mother’s property where he had dug a hole three weeks previous in order to fill this particular moment. Teresa followed behind and watched its stiff corpse wobble side to side when the first shovel of dirt hit Mozart’s body. His distended stomach the point of axis. After the last kick of dirt landed, Martin rose the shovel up high and swung it hard on top of the grave three times. The first time startled Teresa. The second confused her. The third made her cry – not loudly, not wetly – but in a hot stream that felt to her, like the world’s longest tear.

‘’What are you doing!”

“Gotta pack it down, ‘Resa, gotta pack it down.” Said Martin.

“It’s…” Teresa put her left hand over her leaking eyes to speak. “Don’t do it again, ok?”

“It’s done.” He jammed the shovel into the soil below and leaned on its handle. ”What’s the matter with you?”

 “I don’t know.” Teresa lowered her hand and put it on her trembling belly. “It was loud, I guess. And I-”

“Time to get back to the house now. Grab the shovel and put it in the barn.” He turned his back to her and started up the hill.

“Martin?” She asked timidly.

“Hmm?” He responded but kept moving towards the house.

“Were is Mozart now?” Her voice tasted strange in her mouth.

Her father stopped to look at her but didn’t move towards her at all. His eyes were more engaged than normal. “What’s that supposed to mean there, “Reesa?”

“Aunt Lil.”

“Yeah? ‘’Bout it?” He took hand out of his overalls and pushed down his hat.

“Where’s she now?”

“Dead. You were there. Open casket, your mom didn’t want you to see but ‘fuck does she know anymore.”

“She told me that Lil was in heaven. That that’s where good people go.”

“Sure baby. That’s where they go.”

“So, Mozart. That’s where he goed?” The second the question left her lips, Teresa worried that it would in fact be answered.

“Uh…” Martin scratched his shoulder then moved his hand up and rested it on his neck. “Mozart. Mozart is dead. Mozart was a dog. And dogs…they aren’t people.”

“So Mozart is nowhere.”

“Mozart is nowhere.”

“Mozart is dead and dead.” Teresa began to shake.

 

 

 

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I FAILED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!