Chapter Twelve

Mother always droned on and on about the sins of the flesh. As always when she read, she covered her right eye with her one hand. It was her bad eye, drooping to the one side and glassy. It was hot and the flies swarmed around the food. Three times a day they had to listen to Mother’s readings from the Bible before they could eat. “Thou shall not have sexual intercourse before being married. Thou shall not do this. Thou shall not do that…blah, blah, blah.”

He did not know what sexual intercourse was. He was little then, only six years old. His older brother Wills would listen intently to Mother’s reading and nod “Amen” after every “thou shall not…” When she was finished, they could eat. He learned from a young age to shove as much food as possible, as fast as possible down his throat, as Wills and Mother would leave no crumb uneaten. Then he would have to go feed the bloody pigs. Again. Always the pigs. Mother’s prize possession. He always wondered why she cared so much for those stinking animals.

Thinking back now, he remembers the pain and agony. The angst. Wills lying in wait for him. Not every day, but often enough. He remembers the first time well. His thin legs buckled under the hefty food buckets he carried to the sty. Actually, there were many sties. He always started from the furthermost side, sparing the shorter walks for when he was tired.

Wills never helped him because he had to lie down with Mother in the afternoons. Sometimes he could hear them moaning behind the locked door. Moaning and breathing fast. Mother would sometimes yell out, “Jesus Christ” or “Oh, God!” At first, he could not understand why they prayed more on their own. He did not complain, though. He had enough of the Bible shoved down his throat.

He would walk up to the furthest sty from the house, stop to catch his breath, and then climb over the wooden railing to heave the heavy buckets over. He then waddled through the mud and shit to the feeding troth, fighting off the hungry pigs with slaps and screams. He emptied the first bucket into the troth, walked back and threw the empty bucket over the fence. He picked up the second bucket and waddled back to the troth. He would do this with all ten sties. The younger pigs were kept in the sties closer to the house. He never knew why. It was easier to feed them because they shied away from people.

One very hot afternoon, while walking back to the fence with the empty bucket in hand, he saw Wills standing inside the sty. He remembers thinking that it was strange that Wills was standing in the sty. Stranger still was that Wills was naked. In his little world, Wills and Mother would rest in Mother’s room behind the closed door till late in the afternoons.

Wills had a strange look on his face and his eyes gleamed. As he walked past him, Wills grabbed him by the shoulders from behind. He swung around and tried to hit Wills with the bucket, but that just threw him off balance even more. He landed on his back in the mud. Wills grabbed him by his shirt, picked him up and threw him face down in the mud. He could hardly breathe. Things happened so fast after that.

Even today, he can only recall a few flash backs. Wills ripped his pants from his body. He felt Wills’ fingers between his buttocks. Wills then inserted something into his anus. The pain was excruciating. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and tried to scream out, but Wills pushed his face into the mud. For some strange reason, he called for Mother.

He couldn’t breathe. The mud was choking him. He felt flesh tear inside him, but by then he was focused on getting air into his lungs. Somehow he knew that he had to survive. Without air I will be dead. Mud clogged his mouth and he had to spit it out. He managed to turn his head sideways and breathe through his mouth. With every breath he took, he swallowed and tasted grains of muddy water in his mouth. He would spit again and again and attempt a mouthful of fresh air again.

More than anything else he remembers the stench of the pig shit crawling up his nostrils.

The pain was immense. Tears mingled with the mud and stained his face and hair. He vaguely remembers the punishing movement in his anus. He was aware of every tearing movement. Then it was over. As suddenly as it began, it was over. Wills groaned like one of the boars when hungry, and loosened his grip on him. He felt Wills weight lifted from him. He inched away as fast as he could until he was behind the feeding pigs. He lay there, trying to focus on what just happened, but still breathing. Later, he felt the sun baking down on him. He was sure he pissed himself. Still, he lay there, too petrified and shocked to move. After a long time, he lifted his head. He wiped the mud from his eyes and looked around. The pigs huddled in the far corner and stared at him, as if they knew what he had just gone through. Wills was nowhere in sight.

He turned over to face the sun. Then he saw Wills. He was on the other side of the fence already dressed, looking at him. Wills walked away, never looking back at the boy lying in the mud.

He lay there for a while, recovering from the shock and not knowing what to do. The sun dried the mud on his face. Later, he sat up, his hands behind him supporting his weight. Wills was nowhere in sight. He then jumped up and ran to the house as fast as he could. He screamed as he ran to Mother’s bedroom. He ignored the closed door and barged right into the room. He stopped short and stared at the sight before him.

Wills was in bed with Mother, as always. But both were naked. Through tears and hysteria he screamed at Mother what Wills had done.

Mother threw the bedspread from her, got up and walked towards him. Her sagging breasts swung as she walked towards him. Her skin hung on her like an old sack. The bitter pull of her mouth should have warned him. She slapped his face so hard that his head went flying to the left side.

“Go feed the pigs,” she screamed, her face angry and distorted.

For a moment, he was completely stunned. Through his tears, he saw Wills grinning at him and then slowly pulling his index finger across his throat. He walked out of the bedroom, closed the door quietly and walked down the dark hallway, out the door and into the sunlight. He just kept on walking, till he got to the river. He walked into shallow stream, clothes and all. He lay down in it, allowing the stream to wash away the mud, tears and blood. Then he started to cry bitterly. He knew that he was on his own. Nobody would ever stand up for him or protect him. He knew then that he would be in charge of his own path through life.

Much later, he got up and walked back to the house. His anus was on fire. He fed the rest of the pigs, keeping a constant lookout for Wills. Then he walked into his bedroom, locked the door and lay down on his bed. He started crying again. Through the tears he heard Mother and Wills screaming to the Lord.