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Every night after his bowl of cereal, he would take the van and scout for young people. How he enjoyed watching boys while they romped and played. As a child, Father required his services at home. Father had never allowed him to participate in any sport activities. There were always chores to do, and Father did not like him talking with the other boys. Even after all these years, Gordon hated his father, maybe now more than ever. He remembered the terrible pain associated with those awful afternoons in the barn. After all these years, he could still remember the smell of the cows and trodden hay.
Gordon had two unforgettable memories of the barn. First was the first time Father sodomized Gordon’s tiny body. He remembered the pain. It was a compassion-less burning that devoured his inner core. The second memory, which haunted his soul day and night, was the afternoon he had heard the sound of three gunshots from the direction of the old ramshackle wooden building. He had been drying dishes for his mother when Sister came running through the kitchen. She had not even stopped to speak as she ran past Gordon and his mother. Sister ran up the stairs and into the bedroom. Gordon looked back on that day and remembered Mother dropping her dishrag into the pan and following Sister up the stairs. He could hear Sister sobbing and telling Mother something. Then Mother came down the stairs and went to the hall closet, where she took out the rifle. Stone faced, she walked past her youngest son, carrying the rifle in both hands. She used the rifle barrel to push open the screen door and disappeared from sight.
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Turning to Grimes, he said, “Lieutenant, I’m going to do another quick look about, then I’m ready.” Slore was more than ready to go.
The rape and murder of a twelve, maybe thirteen-year-old, yet unidentified white male was ready for the computer. Now it was time to type and file. The boy’s body was now prepared for the slick, shiny black bag. When this kid’s identified, someone will have to tell the parents, Slore thought. He was glad he probably would not be the one who had to tell them. That’s what lieutenants were for.
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