My Family and I are Going to Hell (Part 3 Finale)

Part One

Part Two

“Why don’t you boys head back inside with the girls and get cleaned up and ready for bed, your grandpa and I can finish up here”

Rich and I nodded weakly before being led back up the stairs by our mom and Grandma Carol. Reaching the outdoors once more, the thick air hit my face, drying out the rest of the blood on me, making my skin feel tight.

We silently walked around to the front door, until Rich raised a question.

“Are you okay Mom?”

She looked over at the both of us and forced a smile. She rubbed a hand on her neck as she talked.

“I’ll be fine Richie, always am.”

We didn’t reply as we continued our walk, she let out a breath before speaking again.

“I s’pose… s’pose every mama has a hard time watching her boys grow up, it’s for the best though.”

“You’ll have a baby again soon though” I said.

She looked down at my bloody face, and her smile grew brighter from my words.

“Yeah… yeah I will, your baby sister.”

As we neared the door, she put her hand on my head and ran her fingers through my clumps of matted hair still yet to dry. Glancing down at me she clicked her tongue and spoke just as any mother would if her child had been playing in the dirt.

“I wish you hadn’t splashed them around so much, I’ll have to trash those clothes now.”

Going inside, I stripped off my shoes and handed them over to my mothers outstretched hand, now stained with the blood from my hair.

“Rich, go ahead and take a shower, but be quick about it, I put a set of sleepin’ clothes in there earlier today for both you boys. Carson, get to the sink and start washing your hands before you touch anything else.”

We wordlessly split apart, Rich headed to the bathroom as I stepped towards the kitchen sink to scrub my hands. Our mom and Carol made their way upstairs with my shoes, presumably to wash them out by hand.

“Get under your fingernails good!” She called out.

“I will” I said.

Washing off my hands, the basin filled with crimson water. Carefully cleaning out each nail, I soon saw Dad and Randall coming up the porch and into the house.

“Rich in the shower?” Dad asked.

“Yeah, I’ll get in when he’s done.”

“That’ll be fine. Don’t stay up talking all night though alright? Both of you gotta get up early tomorrow, ‘specially him.”

“What’s he gotta do tomorrow?”

“Help us out in the barn.”

That was all the description he gave, and all that I knew I would tell.

He continued with a different subject. “Means you’ll need to get up early too and start chores, you’ll have to hay the bulls first thing.”

I grimaced at the thought of cattle chores before focusing back on my cleaning. Dad had finished taking off his boots and began to stretch his arms as he meandered up the stairs with the other adults. Grandpa Randall came to my side to wash his own hands quickly.

“Sorry Carson, ‘scuse me.”

I stepped back and gave him access to the water, he rapidly rubbed his hands under the stream before flicking them dry and stepping away. I went back to the water when his low voice mumbled at me.

“Make sure you bring a comb with you into the shower, get your hair good and wet, then run the comb through while you rinse. After that use your soap to get any left out. Your mother’d get madder than a steer if you stained your bedding with that.”

I nodded at him, “Thanks Grandpa, I’ll clean good.”

He looked at me with his lips pursed, the man’s thickly creased face crunched into a slight anguish as his silver blue eyes traveled down my face. As I looked away back to the sink, he spoke again.

“Be good to your mama these next few weeks okay? She’s gonna be having a hard time with the baby and everything else. Just don’t make her stress.”

“I won’t”

He paused awkwardly, as if unaware of how to end the conversation naturally. He simply put a large hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently before walking away.

In a quiet rasp I heard him speak. “Good. Try and get some sleep tonight, I’m sorry if it’s tough.”

Although Randall was generally one who seemed more like a brute without many thoughts of his own, his words were the most human thing I had felt that entire day.

Shortly after he left up the stairs, I finished up cleaning my hands. Carefully drying them off with a dishrag, I heard the bathroom door swing open. Walking down the hall, I met Rich now in his shorts and a white t-shirt holding a towel over shoulder, his hair still wet from the shower. His face scrunched up in disgust as I came closer.

“You smell like a damn corpse”

“Good catch” I tried to joke.

“Just get in there and clean good, you look crazy as hell”

“I’m going”

Retreating into the bathroom, I stood in front of the mirror, still fogged up from steam. A blurred, reddened silhouette stared back at me. Out of curiosity, I reached forward and wiped away the condensation, revealing the condition I was in.

I was a canvas of scattered blood. A dry coat covered my neck and traveled up across my right cheek. A splash had hit my forehead and engulfed the entire upper left of my face. The white and blue of my eye seemed to float to the top in a deep sea of dark crimson carnage. The pink of my lips looked pale compared to the red that surrounded it. My stained scalp could be seen through the clumps of my hair, all glued together like a children’s craft.

My appearance matched my brother's description of my smell. At this moment, I was no more alive than Felix. I was as much of a sacrifice as the birds I had butchered throughout the day. In this, I felt a stirring question, one that I quickly tried to forget, but the thought had already been made.

Does the chicken know when the farmer will choose it for his supper?

The answer was simple enough, surely not. The hens and rooster I had grabbed from the coop could not have known what I was to do to them, or that they would be the ones picked in the first place. Perhaps for a fleeting moment, each one knew what was happening to them, but by then it hardly mattered, the outcome was the same. It made me wonder, however, as I watched the bloodsoaked child in the mirror, his curious eyes scanning the dried paint on his skin. It led me to ask myself: When would the farmer pick his next chicken?

Would we know his choice?

My eyes broke away from the mirror, choosing instead to scan the counter for a comb. Opening a few drawers revealed one to me, and I grabbed it up.

Turning the shower up to a near scorching heat, I stripped off my bloodied clothes and piled them into the corner. Stepping into the steaming shower I immediately felt the sweat and blood beginning to loosen from my face. I spent several minutes scrubbing out my hair, taking Randall’s advice on how to do so. On my final rinse, I watched the suds of my shampoo head towards the drain, tinged pink from the last of the blood on my scalp.

I continued cleaning up until the water flowed off me completely clear. Shutting off the water I left the shower with a light rose glow from the heat of it all. I grabbed up a towel and dried myself as best I could before slipping on a similar pair of shorts that Rich had. I threw a clean undershirt on myself before dropping the towel into the hamper and making my way out into the hall. The wood floor felt cold on my feet as the house itself seemed to sleep. No noise could be heard through the black rooms, except for a gentle pattering from outside as the night's rain began to fall. It was almost peaceful, until a crack of thunder caused me to retreat up the stairs as fast as I was able.

Making it the the second floor, I carefully stepped past my parents and grandparents rooms. Coming to the second set of doors, I paused to look at the one on my left. It felt strange that Felix would no longer ever occupy the space, and yet all his belongings and memories remained inside. Part of me desired to look inside one final time, and so my hand reached out but stopped once it touched the cold brass knob. A rack of fear pierced my chest as my hand dropped from its place. Perhaps it was for the best that I tried to start forgetting.

I turned to the opposite door, turning it open and walking inside. Rich lay in his bed on the right side of the room, staring up to the ceiling. Our two beds sat in each far corner of the completely symmetrical area. Our nightstands and lamps met together in the center, and the entire room seemed perfectly divided between each of our possessions.

Rich didn’t acknowledge my entrance, and so I walked up before crawling into my bed, laying down to almost mimic his current state. Knowing it would be difficult for either of us to get sleep, I began to speak.

“I hope my shoes don’t stay too dirty, mom seemed pretty mad about them”

“You’re damn crazy”

I raised my head up at him from his answer, before trying to continue.

“Why? I think you’re crazy too sometimes”

“I ain’t killed any birds the way you did”

“Dad made me”

“Not them, the first one, the hell got you to do that?”

“I got angry”

“You got crazy”

“I guess”

“That all you got to say about it?”

“I don’t know what to say that’d make you happy”

He paused, likely knowing that he couldn’t be happy from what I’d answer with. Eventually he spoke once again.

“You gotta control yourself better”

“I don’t even get into trouble with Mom and Dad like you do”

“I ain’t done nothing in a long time, sure didn’t kill no chickens”

He took a deep breath before softening his tone.

“I just don’t want you to get crazy like him”

“I won’t”

“You gotta promise that, you think you won’t now but you keep this up and you’ll get worse”

“I promise”

“Now keep it”

Another lull in the conversation made my curiosity push out another question.

“You think he’s being nicer lately?”

“Probably, yeah. Ever since Mom started showing her belly.”

“You think he’ll stay that way?”

“No”

Disappointed in the answer, I moved the discussion again.

“What was on the TV this time?”

He thought for a moment before answering, “Some big issue got stirred up by some president in Europe. Tried taking something from another country and now it looks like everyone’s mad at him. They had some guy on there talking about him, really upset, asking others for help. Another fella came on and tried telling everyone to calm down and be smart about the whole thing, he was from Germany I think.”

The excitement from the topic radiated off of Rich’s voice as he explained the situation as best he could. Nearly all of it went over my head but I tried my best to extend the conversation.

“Where’s Germany at anyway?”

“In Europe”

“Well where’s Europe?”

“Across a big ocean, you’d need a huge boat just to get there.”

“Would we be able to go you think? To Europe or Germany?”

“Maybe, it sounds like they got a lot of problems over there though.”

“We got problems here too”

“Not like them, they got bigger problems, we deal with small stuff”

“Big problems like we read about sometimes?”

“Yeah, kinda”

I smiled slightly at the thought of this seemingly storybook land. Even the trouble seemed more exciting that what we encountered at home.

“So was the president guy… the one they’re all mad at, is he from Germany?”

“No, just the guy that was telling everyone to calm down I think, the other guy was from a bigger country, they showed the map on screen and it looked huge”

I smiled, “there’s a whole world we ain’t even seen huh?”

“Yeah, like we ain’t even in it sometimes.”

We both fell silent for a moment at that thought, each of us chewing on the fact that we could dream of these places our whole lives, but the world around us demanded something different. This melancholy thought pushed me to ask what was on my mind this whole evening.

“Rich? What was the barn like?”

The room tensed immediately, and it seemed like Rich had stopped breathing. I eventually heard a shaking lungful of air leave him before he whispered back.

“You shouldn’t ask about that.”

“I wanna know”

“You think you do”

“No, I do, quit talking like that and tell me.”

“You shouldn’t know about it”

“Felix thought I should”

He stopped for a while, thinking on my words. More importantly, he was thinking of Felix’s.

“I think he was wrong”

“What?” I asked, nearly in disbelief of his defiance.

“I think you shouldn’t know”

“You’re just building it up, making it sound worse to scare me.”

“That ain’t what I’m doing Carson”

“I’ll just keep asking”

“I’ll keep saying no”

“Then I’ll tell Dad to show me, tell him I’m old enough to know about it-“

“No!” He nearly yelled.

He sat up from my words, and I had finally struck the nerve I had wanted to. We both knew that the chances of our dad to agree with me were slim, but Rich wasn’t about to take that risk. He looked over at me with stress in his young eyes. I heard his breathing increase while he spoke.

“You’re so damn dumb sometimes Carson! I don’t talk like that for no good reason, and the hell you will! You ain’t gonna ask him a thing alright?”

“He’s gonna hear you” I urged him.

His voice went back to a whisper as his head flopped down on the pillow once more.

“It’s nothing you wanna know okay? Don’t say I didn’t warn you about that much.”

“I got it”

He took a deep breath before starting.

“We walked out there, and the chains were already off and on the ground, Dad must’ve done it when he ran off earlier. Anyway, we get to the front of the door, and Grandpa Randall swings both of em’ out. Inside it’s just a small room with another wall and a second set of doors.”

“That’s it?” I asked.

“No, no that ain’t it, just let me keep talking. So we go into this first part and close the barn doors, and it gets dark, I can’t see anybody’s faces, and I notice that on the far wall, there’s a little bit of light coming through a window.”

I creased my face in confusion, “The barn doesn’t have windows”

“I know. But there was one”

“That don’t make any sense”

His voice rose into a hiss, both irritated at me and seemingly at the nonsense he was describing.

“None of it made any damn sense! That’s what I’m getting at! I see that window and then I hear Grandpa Felix. Soon enough he walks over and I see him at the window, then he calls my name”

“What’d he want?”

“He- I…” He took a breath and swallowed before continuing. “He told me to come look over at the window, so I did. The whole time I’m looking he’s explaining how him and his dad built this second wall of the barn as a way to let new family get used to it on their first time through. Said… said that things change once you get in.”

“Did he know why there was a window?”

“No… no none of them did. Just said things were different inside, weren’t meant to make sense and I shouldn’t try to find any. No sense at all in that place…”

Before I could ask anything more he spoke again, his voice all but mute.

“Outside the window… nothing looked right Carson. The grass wasn’t around, the dirt was dry and white, the trees weren’t there anymore.”

“You’re lying. Trying to scare me is all”

“I’m telling you what you asked.”

I fell silent, and he proceeded.

“Nothing green anymore, nothing alive. The sky was orange and foggy, I couldn’t see more than a few yards, but everything was gone.”

“Was that it? Did you leave Felix there after that?” Part of me hoped that the story ended there.

“It got brighter in there after that. Dad had opened up the other doors. The rest of the barn was like normal, still pretty dark but each wall had a line of windows too. I step through after Grandpa Randall, and there’s this damn rustling noise. I-it scared me so I stopped, then Dad walked over to the corner and hit something.”

“What was it?”

“A bunch of old lightbulbs turned on. They didn’t do a whole lot but you could see at least. Then I saw what rustled up that hay I was hearing.”

“Rats?”

“No. No, a group of goats a-and a pig.”

“What? You’re talking crazy.”

“No they were there, a big billy goat with the horns and everything, it was eating out of a hay pile with another goat. Must’ve been a nanny since it wasn’t near as big.”

“Why’re they hiding goats in there?”

“Doubt anyone put them there. The way Dad acted around them you’d think they were the ones dragging us in.”

“What about the pig?”

“It sat by itself, didn’t chew on nothing, just laid there and looked at me. Ugly thing too, greasy with those black pebble eyes.”

“So why were they there?”

“No idea, they barely moved while we were in there, but I didn’t like it one bit.”

His voice was turning into a croak as he tried telling me more, but it was like every word hurt to speak.

“I walked a bit more forward, and- and the smell hit me. I thought all them animals just reeked like sulfur or rotten meat. I thought it was them, they looked like hell all dirty and nasty. They were laying in a low spot that looked like it was filled with mud and shit, and those damn eyes looking over at me while they chewed! I thought it was them- I thought it sure had to be… I stepped up til I saw something above me, the rafters… above me, all above me…”

By now his breathing was becoming erratic and I began to fear that I had asked too much of him. I was desperate to see the conversation end now that I saw how Rich acted describing it. He wasn’t a scared person, Rich could stand up to adults and beatings, stare down bulls and even wrestle calves, but what he saw tonight wasn’t something even good men could face.

“You don’t gotta keep going” I whispered.

“It’s fine” he blurted between breaths. “I was done talking anyway.”

“We should get some sleep”

“Yeah, we outta”

I heard Rich roll over to his side facing away from me, I turned the same direction and saw his back wrapped in a blanket. The sound of distant rain lulled in the air for a moment, and neither of us were getting closer to rest.

“Hey Rich?”

“What?”

“Can we go out to the field tomorrow after chores?”

“Depends on how the day goes”

“Okay”

“What’d you wanna do out there?”

“I was gonna bring the soccer ball, or we could play cops and robbers”

“I’ll tell Dad and see if he’ll let me finish up early”

“Okay”

“Goodnight”

“Goodnight Rich”

In the dark I could see his frame rise and fall on the bed with each breath. A sense of cowardice shrouded every person in my life since I was little. No matter how strong they stood or how loud they spoke, each one was held back by fears they often refused to face. All were outdone by Rich, who at 12 years old would still be the bravest man I ever knew. He would be the only one that could confront the truth of our situation, the only one who would try and protect me. How lucky was I that across the room, in my tiny world, there he rested.

My eyes began to sink with the weight of my day’s sins, but before they closed fully, I spoke out to the blanketed back of my brother.

“I love you”

His figure gave no acknowledgment of my words, and my eyes soon shut to rest. While my mind began to swirl with whatever terrible memories it would bring to me in nightmares for the hours to come, I heard it. Cutting past the thick fog of regret and despair that filled my head were those rasping words of his. I almost felt them to be imagined, but there was no doubt to the conviction behind that phrase: “I love you too.”

My mind shook off each cruel thought that wrapped itself to my brain, while the rain outside began urging me closer to rest. I knew Rich’s words to be the truth, and no finer truth could have met my ears at that moment.

Throughout the night, I saw no dreams nor nightmares come to me. By the time I opened my eyes it had been eight long hours that I had slept. The clock read 8:37 A.M., and looking to the other bed, I saw that Rich had already left.

Stretching out of the bed, I rose myself up despite the heaviness my body felt. I stumbled a few steps over to the closet and began picking out some work clothes for the day. Getting dressed I made my way down the stairs to see my mother reading a book. My stepping caused her head to raise and look at me.

“You missed breakfast Carson, the other boys got up over an hour ago”

“Sorry” I said with a croak in my throat.

“Don’t tell me that, you’re the one who’ll be starving by lunch time”

“I know”

She shook her head as she looked back down to her book.

“Want me to make you up something quick ‘fore you have to go out?”

“No I’ll be okay”

“You sure?”

“I’m not very hungry”

“Suit yourself”

Sitting down in a dining room chair, I began pulling on my mud boots, knowing I would have to deal with the freshly wet ground that morning. Once they were strapped up, I made my way out the door, saying my goodbyes to my mother.

The cool air washed over me on the porch. I took a deep breath, savoring it, before walking down towards the bull pen.

Coming up to the steel panels. I saw the large head and snout of one of our bulls. Crasher and Big Jack were the names Rich and I gave the animals, but the two large angus brutes didn’t answer to anything we called them.

Stepping up on the side of the panel, I saw Big Jack chewing through the last of their hay supply next to the side I was on. At the sight of me, he threw his head and snorted out a puff of air.

I ignored him, instead looking over at Crasher, who lay in the center of the pen, chewing cud as he watched me. Stepping down, I walked over to the large pile of loose hay that sat under an awning next to the lot. Grabbing up the pitchfork next to it, I began lifting up forkfuls of hay over the panels and down into the depleted hay pile. The first bunch of hay I lowered down next to Jack caused him to buck his head up into the fork, tossing it back up and rattling my arm bones. The hay flew up and covered me, causing myself to nearly fall into a rage.

“You dumbass! Trying to feed you bastards!”

I raised the fork up like a two handed spear, ready to stab it down into the face of the large beast looking up at me with his dull eyes. My arms shook as both animals stared expectantly at me, waiting to see what I would do. With a few deep breaths, and Rich’s warnings circling my thoughts, I lowered the fork and climbed down. I fed them the rest of their hay in silence, carefully collecting any stray emotions that told me to harm the ignorant bovines.

After finishing up, I set back for a moment and watched the two bulls go up and begin eating through the new supply. By the time I began walking towards my next task of the morning, they were both ramming their heads together to get more food than the other. Shaking my head, I felt that the two bulls, like all animals on the farm, were far too dumb to know the intentions of the humans around them. In that thought, I began to feel sympathy for them, knowing that any wrong they committed against me wasn’t out of anything but instinct, and that, I could accept.

Pushing on towards the chicken pen to collect morning eggs, I spotted a distant movement, up at the coop. I saw my dad washing off his boots at the outside hydrant. For reasons unknown to me, I walked past the coop door and headed towards him instead.

He didn’t notice my approach, fully focused on scrubbing off whatever stuck to his footwear. By the time I was next to him, I still had to speak before getting his attention.

“What’d you have to work on this morning?”

His neck shot up, as my words spooked him from his thoughts. He quickly grabbed onto the hydrant to keep from falling over as his one foot stayed up in the air as he washed it.

“Damn Carson! You bout’ gave me a heart attack!”

“Sorry” I muttered

“What was it you said?”

“I asked what you were working on this morning”

He stretched his face in an uncomfortable grimace as he set his foot back to the ground and shut off the running water. As the water slowed to a dribble he scooped up a small amount in his hand, running it through his palms before patting the rest down his eyes and mouth.

“Just had to get the barn ready again, that’s all”

“Ready again?”

“Yep, for next time, it’s always the hardest part, that’s why we get up and do it first thing”

“Where’s Rich and Grandpa Randall?”

“Finishing up, I figured I’d split off and check on your mother”

He turned as he patted his hands dry on his coveralls. Looking down at the large pool of water that had built up from his cleaning, I noticed a faint scent of rot coming from the puddle. Looking closer, a mixture of slight red was mixing with the thick mud at the edges of the water. My brow stitched into a crease as my eyes put what I was looking at together. By the time I looked back at the older man, he was staring at me, both of us understanding what the other thought. In a careful tone, he continued speaking.

“Rich and you ain’t gonna be able to go out and play tonight, I’ll need you boys around the house.”

I nodded without argument, and he continued.

“Don’t bug your brother too much, he’s having a bad day so far, and I don’t need you two fighting alright?”

“Okay” I said.

“Good, you getting your chores done?”

“Bulls are fed, I still gotta do chickens”

“Alright, that’s fine. Oh, grab a cage before you go handle the birds, we’ll need another one tonight.”

“Okay”

“Go for another rooster this time, older if you can, your mother and I are gonna grab some more baby chicks next week, easier than hatching them ourselves”

“Alright, I’ll get a rooster”

“Alive. Understood?”

“Yes sir”

“Good, you wanna come along next week when we go to town?”

What would usually be an exciting and rare offer made my throat dry up for whatever reason. My mind rejected the proposal but the offer didn’t seem like one I was allowed to refuse.

“Yeah, I’ll go”

He flashed a crooked smile at my acceptance, as he ran a hand through his thinning hair he turned away towards the house.

“Good deal, I’ll ask Rich and see if he’ll go, Grandma and Grandpa should be fine with chores that day. I figure you boys outta start getting out more often anyway.”

With that, he began stepping towards the porch, stomping off the remaining wet muck from his boots, before heading up and leaving me alone.

Once he was out of sight, I made my way back away from the coop, not headed towards the cellar for a cage, but instead making my way to the barn. As I rounded the treeline, I saw the two figures I was looking for. Rich and Randall were just leaving the building. Randall wrapped the chains tight around the handles before clicking the lock shut and turning back to Rich. Grabbing up some of the tools Rich held, he began making his way back up towards me. Rich soon followed and while I knew it wouldn’t be smart, I watched as they both came closer. Eyes to the ground, neither one knew I stood there, and before too long they came close enough into view that I could make out their current state.

Both men looked exhausted to the soul, breathing out of their mouths as they carried various hay forks and gardening hoes. Randall occasionally spit thick globs of mucus and saliva out into the gravel path, while Rich trudged forward like a soldier in retreat of a greater enemy. As they got closer in their path, I saw the first drip of blackened slime come off of the prong on the fork over his shoulder. I stepped forward to see better and at about 10 yards away I was spotted. A standoff ensued where I looked over the wretched state of my family members.

First came the smell, as a waft of sweet, metallic rot hit my senses, nearly causing my eyes to pinch shut. The goo that clung to their tools looked like tar, but the maroon spots that stained the gravel below them told another story. The stench that had loosely hung over my dad earlier was now on full display. The stew of spoiled gore they had toiled in now engulfed their bodies. It was in their sweat and their breath, it leeched out from every pore.

Randall’s eyes were empty, his mouth hung open as his ragged breathing filled the void between us. His coveralls were stained dark, and his boots were still soaked with blackened blood up to the shins.

Rich was in a similar state, his hands shaking as his crazed stare met my own. The moment couldn’t have been longer than a few seconds, but we all felt the eternity between us. Then, as if nothing was wrong, Randall kept walking forward. Rich followed close behind, and before long they had both passed me without a word. Left to myself, I watched the tall structure that stood aged and proud in the distance. None of its terror or mystery would be known to me anytime soon, and it taunted me by swallowing the edges of my world.

I would avoid it as long as I could, but the thought was always there. It’s been 5 years now since it took my Grandpa Felix, and we’ve been lucky to not need to enter it since. But someday we won’t have that luck, and someone won’t be strong enough to get out of bed like they used to. By then, I’ll have to go with Rich and the others to continue the tradition, and I know I won’t be ready. Eventually, the farmer will choose his chicken for supper, and none of us can know when we’ll be the ones on the plate. Until then, I’ll always watch that barn, and wonder if the price I’ll have to pay inside of it will be worth the life I live now.

I hope it will be.

I know it won’t be.

(End of Part 3)