Both he and William had been released within a couple of months of each other – William first, Lonny later – and Lonny had been worried that William and his mother might already have moved on by the time he got to New Hampshire, but William was in the throes of a deep depression, and the medication prescribed to combat it meant that he was even less resistant to his mother’s suffocating love than he might otherwise have been. Lonny had found William walking in the woods near the shitty little trailer home that his mother had bought – bought! She was so dumb that she hadn’t even rented, as if a guy being released from jail in a strange state would want to stay living within a few miles of his final prison. But William was too battered and acquiescent to strike out for himself when he was released, and had they been left to their own devices they might have remained there on a dirt road beside a stinking pond until one or both of them passed away.
So there was William, his hands in his pockets, his whole body bent slightly after years of trying to deflect the attention of predatory men by making himself smaller and less obvious. Lonny approached him from behind when William stopped to stare at his reflection in that scummy pond, so that Lonny’s own reflection gradually appeared next to William’s. Their time behind bars had accentuated rather than diluted the similarities that had always existed between them. They were both carrying jail weight from bad food, and their faces were prematurely aged and weathered. Lonny stood straighter than William, though, and his hair was lighter and longer. In addition, William now wore spectacles, the cheap metal frames making him appear at once sadder and more vulnerable.
For a moment William just stared at the two reflections, as though uncertain whether he was seeing a manifestation of a real being or a wraith conjured up by his own damaged mind. Then the figure said his name, and William heard it spoken and knew that what he was seeing was real. He turned around slowly, and instantly they were fourteen again, with William taking the subordinate role, except this time there was an added sense of resignation to his posture and speech. Like Lonny, he had always known that they would meet again. Perhaps that was why he hadn’t objected to his mother’s preparations, and hadn’t tried to move far from the prison. He was waiting, waiting for Lonny to come.
‘How you doing, Lonny?’ he asked.
‘I’m okay, William. You?’
‘Okay, I guess. When did you get out?’
‘A couple of weeks back. It’s good to be free again, right?’
‘Uh-huh.’
William blinked, and pushed his spectacles farther up his nose, although it didn’t seem to Lonny that they’d dropped since they’d begun talking. Maybe it was a nervous tic. His tongue licked at the little scar on the left side of his upper lip. Lonny noted its presence. William hadn’t been marked in that way when Lonny knew him as a boy.
‘How’d you find me?’ asked William.
‘Your momma. Her mail. It wasn’t hard.’
‘It’s nice here,’ said William. ‘Peaceful. You want to go inside, have a soda or something?’
‘You got anything stronger?’
‘No. I’m on medication. I’m not supposed to drink alcohol. It doesn’t matter so much. I tried it when I got out but I didn’t like the taste.’
‘Could be you just tried the wrong kind.’
‘It was whisky,’ William said. ‘I don’t remember the name. I went to a bar. I thought that was what you were supposed to do, you know, when you got out. That’s what everyone else talked about doing.’
He sounds so young, Lonny thought. It’s like he froze mentally at fourteen, so that his body grew older while his consciousness stayed the same.
‘That’s what I did,’ said Lonny. ‘I thought it tasted good. Got me some pussy too.’
William blushed. ‘Gosh, Lonny,’ he said. ‘Gosh.’
You child, thought Lonny. You weak little boy.
‘What are they calling you now, William?’
‘Randall. Randall Haight. I don’t know why they chose that name. They just did. And you?’
‘Daniel Ross. I don’t know why they chose that either.’
‘It’s an okay name.’
‘Yes, it is. Let’s go inside, “Randall.” It’s cold.’
Side by side, they walked back to the house.
‘My momma’s out,’ said William. ‘She plays bingo at the American Legion every Friday. Before that, she has dinner at a restaurant and reads her magazines. I went with her a couple of times, but I think she preferred being alone.’ The house came into view. ‘I heard that your momma and poppa died,’ said William. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Yeah. Well, you know.’
Lonny trailed off. He didn’t want to talk about that. They were gone, and that was the end of it.
The inside of the house smelled of damp clothes and bad cooking. William took two cans of soda from the refrigerator, but Lonny had already found a bottle of vodka in one of the kitchen closets.
‘Thought you said you didn’t have anything stronger?’
‘That’s momma’s!’ said William. He sounded scandalized.
‘She won’t mind,’ said Lonny.
‘She will. It’s hers. She’ll know someone has been supping from it.’
‘She won’t, William. Trust me. I’ll make it right with her.’
‘No, you can’t be here when she gets back. She won’t like it.’
‘Why is that?’
William clammed up. This wasn’t a subject that he wanted to explore.
‘Because I’m the bad one, right? Because I made her little boy do a bad thing?’
William remained silent, but Lonny knew that it was true.
‘I know that’s what she thinks,’ continued Lonny. ‘I know, because that’s what everyone thinks.’
He found two glasses, poured a generous measure of vodka into each, then added Coke from one of the cans. He handed a glass to William.
‘Take it.’
‘I don’t want it.’
‘Take it, William, and drink it. Trust me. It’ll make things easier in the long run.’
William took the glass. He sipped at the drink, but didn’t like the taste. He started to cry.
‘Drink it, William.’
‘I’m sorry, Lonny,’ said William. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Lonny forced the glass back to his mouth and made him drink. When the glass was empty, he refilled it.
‘More.’
‘I don’t want any more.’
‘Just do it. For me.’
He clinked his own glass against William’s in a toast, then drank long. Already, William looked a little woozy. He held the glass in two hands and drank. This time he didn’t struggle so much with the liquor, but he was still crying. There was snot dripping from his nose, and a string of spittle linked his mouth to the glass.
‘You weren’t supposed to tell,’ said Lonny. ‘You were never supposed to tell.’
William just stared at the floor, his body jerking with the force of his sobs.
Lonny put his glass in the sink. He didn’t want to make a mess. A mess would make it more likely that he’d be caught. He took the rope from the pocket of his coat. He’d told himself that he was only going to use it to scare William, or tie him up if he had to, but it was a lie, just one of many lies he would be forced to tell, and to live.
‘I’m sorry, Lonny,’ William repeated, but his voice was different now. The sobbing suddenly ceased. ‘But you should be sorry too for what we did to Selina Day.’
He swallowed the last of the vodka and Coke, then turned and knelt on the floor, his back to Lonny. Lonny couldn’t move. He had expected arguments, or excuses, but not this: not this abject surrender.
‘Don’t hurt my momma,’ said William. ‘She’s a nice lady.’
It was those words that broke the spell on Lonny and set in motion all that was to follow. He flipped the rope over William’s neck, put his knee against his back, and slowly strangled him. And when William’s mother came home he did the same to her.