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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book... “On the Rocks” Down in the Dirt, v147 (the July 2017 Issue) You can also order this 6"x9" issue as a paperback book:

Order this writing in the issue book Random Thoughts the Down in the Dirt July-Dec. 2016 collection book		get the 418 page May-August 2017 Down in the Dirt issue anthology 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

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On the Rocks

Heather Chandler

    Caley’s fist wrapped tightly around Rasputin’s throat. She grabbed the butcher knife and forced the tip into the middle of his neck and drug it across. A quick spray of blood showered the front of her apron. His beady eyes just stared up at the sky, his head laying on the block as she plunged the rest of his body in ice water draining the blood. She walked over to the sink and ran hot water over her hands, cleaning them, and then letting the next bucket fill. Scalded birds are easier to pluck. Rasputin had gotten too feisty lately, and mean roosters make a good soup. She tossed him into the second bucket for a good soak and then went into the kitchen to begin prepping the stock.
    Looking out of the kitchen window, she saw Billy strolling up the path toward her old blue house and her heart leapt a little. His hair had grown out just a little too much and the humidity brought out the curls. His jeans were too big, but she could still make out his muscular shape. He wasn’t big like those guys on the football team, but refined from labor and the occasional swim in the river. Quickly, she tossed aside her apron and smoothed down her cotton dress and brushed off any specks of lint and feathers from the day’s chores. She ran her fingers through her hair, but it wouldn’t help much. Unlike Billy, her light hair became limp and lifeless with the humidity and it clung to the back of her neck and the sides of her face. Flipping her head upside down, she hoped to fight against gravity and at least boost some appearance of the bouncy hair plastered on every magazine lining the checkout at Jim’s IGA.
    She’d known Billy all her life. Their families worshiped at the Baptist church for generations, and they were often corralled together into the same dingy basement Sunday school classroom, even though Billy was a couple years older.
    It’s hard to keep Sunday school teachers these days. It seems like the bigger everything gets in town, the smaller the church gets. Heck, they were even getting another fast food restaurant now. Her dad often railed against the changes. “We already got a Sonic,” he said, flailing his right hand in the air as if he could swipe away the progression that seemed to threaten him. “What the hell else we need with another burger joint?” he complained. “I kinda like the idea of a new burger joint” she replied, wondering if he’d yell at her or just ignore her. It made her feel they were almost modern.
    Mostly, Billy kept to himself. Everyone knew his dad drank too much and his mom spent as much time in the institution as his dad spent at the bar. He carried the shame quietly, though. Only his steely eyes revealed flashes of pain. And he had a way of seeing through you while forcing you out at the same time. It was unnerving. And there were the whispers; speculation really— about some girl a few towns from here. Caley didn’t believe any of it.
    Caley met him at the screen door, trying to appear casual and also trying to beat her dad to the door. Her dad didn’t much like Billy. Thought there was something squirrely in those dark eyes, but Caley knew her daddy didn’t like any of the boys that came calling. And his intensity was part of the attraction. There’s a fine line between power and powerlessness that stirs the soul into a whirlwind of emotions. She’d lose her breath around him, both because she loved him, and because there was just enough danger in him that she also kind of feared him. In either case, she smiled at him and hoped he couldn’t notice how hard her heart pounded in her chest. She had been sneaking out to see Billy often lately, and each time still sent shivers through her.

    “Come take a walk with me, Caley,” he said, that slight smirk visible causing her to smile in return. “I wanna talk to you.”
    “Let me get some shoes and I’ll be right out.” Barely looking over her shoulder, she hollered, “Daddy, I’m going for a walk.”
    “Alright,” her dad mumbled, more concerned with the Sooner’s game flickering in front of him.
    They were wandering down the dusty red path, the hot Oklahoma sun beating down their backs, when he took her hand. She couldn’t stop the smile that forced its way across her lips. His hand was warm and she could feel the rough callouses. She wondered what it might be like to kiss him, and then she shivered.
    Billy wasn’t much of a talker.
    “I haven’t seen you in a couple of weeks,” she said, lilting the end of the statement to sound more like a question.
    “I’ve been workin’,” Billy replied.
    “Well, I just finished up school,” she nervously continued. “I’m thinkin’ of maybe goin’ to college in Cameron or maybe moving to the city.”
    “Why are ya trying to leave here?” he asked.
    “There’s nothing in this town!”
    “What about me?” he asked.
    They reached the river where the gorge met the bend. The rushing water breaking over the rocks filled the silence, and a dove called out from a tree overhead. Caley stared at the rust colored dust gathering around the toes of her sandal.

    “That’s what I want to talk to you about,” Billy said. He let go of her hand and then rethinking, he grabbed it again a bit more forcefully.
    “Marry me,” he commanded. Caley’s head was swimming with all kinds of emotions, and the rushing sound of the river nearby made it hard for her to think.
    She stood there silent, letting the whole thing sink in. What about college? What would her dad say?
    “I can’t marry you” she said.
    He winced like she had slapped him. His smirk hardened and the softness of his mouth seemed to morph into something sinister. He grabbed her arm above the elbow, and said, “What are you talking about? I see the way you look at me. We belong together.”
    But his forcefulness scared her. She tried to widen the gap between them, but he squeezed her arm until she could feel the imprint of his fingers forging through the muscle and pressing on the bones in her forearm. Her throat tightened—the words of rejection she had uttered forming a noose, causing her breath to become shallow and quick. He couldn’t be serious, she thought. But he narrowed his eyes, a triumphal smirk emerging on his lips.
    Caley brought her arm in a full circle while turning her body away from him, forcing his grip to release, and the way he lunged at her told her she better run.
    “Billy—stop!” She cried out as she tore past the trail and moved closer to the river. She could feel the earth soften beneath her and she tried to make her steps lighter to resist the pull from the mud as she descended the small bank.
    She waded through the water feeling the slippery stones beneath her feet. The water was so heavy and his strides closed the gap. He grabbed her by the back of her hair and pushed her to the ground.
    “Billy—please!”
    “Don’t worry, my love. You won’t drown.” He spoke the words as gently as some rancher calmly coaxing his cow to slaughter. But his eyes weren’t so kind. They bore into her with hatred and she wondered how it was only moments ago he asked her to be his bride.
    She struggled underneath him as he straddled her, bearing down more of his weight. She tried flipping over, but the rocks underneath cut into her back and hips. She might as well try wrestling with Goliath. Then he took out his knife.
    You can’t hear yourself think when the water’s rushing around you like a storm upon a sea.
    She felt the knife rip through the belly of her dress, taunting the skin beneath before sliding upwards. Billy’s erratic breath came in short gasps. As his right hand guided the knife, his left hand released Caley’s arms to tear away the top of her dress. Her own breath rasping and struggling.
    Caley felt her arms sinking into the riverbed and her ears filled with water, leaving the world muffled. She stretched her fingers into the slimy mud, grasping for some resemblance of solid ground, but a jagged rock tore into her palm. “On Christ the solid Rock I stand; all other ground is sinking sand.” Caley thought of Sunday mornings. Gold-trimmed edges on thin pages, red words bringing comfort to the old ladies singing off-key. Ms. Latham on the piano, pounding out the notes with the execution of a military drill team commander.
    Billy was slobbering all over her neck now, his weight pushing her further into the water. She could feel splashes on her cheeks and she tasted rust. Her mind turned to Grandma’s biscuits served with peach jam and salted butter. She could smell them now. She could feel them in her hand, the melted butter dripping down her wrist. But the butter was cold and slid too quickly, the biscuit weighing heavily in her hand. Suddenly aware of Billy tugging at his pants, she clutched her fists imprinting a large piece of jagged slate into her palm. And then she slammed it into the side of Billy’s head.
    Stunned he reached up for her arm, but not before she directed the stone to its target again. At first, the rock just stood there, impaled into his temple. The skin looked taught and unaffected, silvery white lines tracing the outer wound as if the body itself was in disbelief. And then the blood poured out. Billy collapsed on top of Caley, submerging her face in the river.
    Eyes wide open, gurgling screams no one could hear, she frantically tried to free herself from under him. The water swirled red around her, blocking the ray of light streaming from the Sun. Finally, she was able to slide from beneath him. Billy remained face-down in the river with the rock still stuck into his temple. Caley rose from the water, legs weak and trembling. She stumbled to the river’s edge, her hair clumped together in mossy tangles. Billy’s blood merged with sludge on the torn bodice of her soaked cotton dress.
    Caley stood shaking on the bank, staring at Billy’s lifeless form resting in the water. His pants were slightly pulled down, leaving his backside exposed. She couldn’t leave him there. Maybe she could. Her mind raced as quickly as her heart pounded. She picked up a rock on near her foot and threw it at Billy’s body. Nothing. She tested again. Billy just remained. Caley picked up a third rock, but she stopped, turning it in her palm. She looked around and then she filled the skirt of her cotton dress with as many rocks as she could hold and waded back into the water near Billy.
    She stooped down and nudged Billy, just to be sure. When Caley was sure he was dead, she quickly began forcing the stones in his clothes. She shoved them in his pants, down his shirt, even in the little pocket on the chest of his flannel shirt. She ran back to the shore and gathered more stones. When his clothes were ripping under the pressure of the rocks, she grabbed both of his arms and began dragging him out further into the water. When her feet could no longer touch, Caley released him. He mostly sunk, except for his arm bobbing up and down in the water, waving.
    Billy’s body sunk deep into the middle of the river. The water seemed calmer, as if content with the sacrifice. Caley swam back to the shore and stood looking over the water. The sun danced off the ripples, winking back at her.
    Caley returned home and slipped into the house through the back door. She could hear the television blaring and her father snoring. Once in her room, she slipped out of her torn dress, held it briefly, and then crumpled it into the bottom of her wastebasket. She grabbed a pair of jeans from the bottom of her drawer and put on a soft red t-shirt. After dressing, she stared in the mirror, combing out her now dried hair. Her hands no longer trembled and her breath returned to a natural rhythm. She headed downstairs and started the soup for dinner.

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