Page 132 of The End of the World As We Know It
“He’s a liar. The hoary cripple with the malicious eye,” another voice said.
In his dream, Woodrow saw himself turn.
There was the old Black woman from his previous dreams. She was sitting in a rocking chair as the sky behind her roiled. First black then purple then finally red. Red as the gates of hell.
“He lies Woodrow. Whatever you and your wife did in your marriage bed you did for love. And for a little fun. No need to feel ashamed of that. Don’t let him seduce you, son. He speaks and breathes corruption,” the old Black woman said. She pulled out a fiddle and began to play a mournful tune.
“He is Legion,” she said.
Woodrow sat straight up in the bed.
“Mother Abagail,” he said in a hoarse moan. That was the old woman’s name. He knew it. He didn’t know how he knew it but he did.
He reached out for Janice.
Janice was gone.
The next morning the three travelers were standing on Woodrow’s porch with their backpacks full of deer jerky. Their canteens were full of water from Woodrow’s well.
“Safe travels,” Woodrow said.
Jorge smiled at him.
“We thank you for your hospitality. We really do. Thank you for the jerky and the water. But I can’t help but notice you got some mighty fat pigs over there. What say we butcher one of them and split the meat? The four of us working on it, it won’t take long at all. One them fat fuckers could feed us for the whole winter,” Jorge said.
“We can kill them all and then you can come west with us,” Janice said.
Woodrow felt his face get hot.
“Thank you kindly, but I suppose you best be on your way. I don’t plan on going nowhere,” Woodrow said. Jorge smiled wider. Woodrow thought it was no longer a smile at all. It was like the man was baring his teeth at him like a mad dog.
“You got eight pigs, Woodrow. It’s a waste not to do something with all that meat,” Jorge said.
“It’s gotta taste better than the last meat we had,” Tina said.
“Yeah, the last meat we had was tough as shoe leather,” Janice said.
“Yes… yes it was. Gamey as all get out,” Jorge said.
“Shoe leather. That’s funny,” Tina said.
Woodrow felt like mice were running across his belly. The back of his throat felt raw as a skinned rabbit. The three travelers were standing on the porch, but they were loosely surrounding him.
“I’m not killing my pigs. You all best be moving on now,” Woodrow said.
“What size shoe you wear, Woodrow?” Tina asked.
Jorge pulled a pistol out of his pocket and pointed it at Woodrow.
“We gonna leave here with some meat. Up to you what kind,” Jorge said.
Woodrow bit his bottom lip.
“Okay. Okay. Let’s go,” he said. He brushed past Janice and walked over to the pen.
“I’m gonna open the gate. You shoot the first pig that comes out. We can’t shoot him and let him drop in the pen. They’ll be on him before you blink,” Woodrow said.
“You just get ready to cut his big ass up,” Jorge said.
