“It looks colored,” Junior’s voice was barely audible.
“What?” Mr. Lee asked.
“The foot, it doesn’t look… you know, white.”
“The foot was matched to your skin tone exactly. I held the color samples up to you.”
“I am telling you that is not a white man’s foot and there’s no way in hell I am walking out of here on a colored foot,” Junior’s voice wavered.
“Honey, it looks fine. You will have shoes on most of the time, don’t worry about it,” Sue said, putting her hand on Junior’s back.
“I can have it painted, it will just take some time.” Mr. Lee pulled a key ring out of his pocket with several flesh-colored paint samples attached to it.
“No, a new one, a white one.” Junior said reaching for his second crutch.
The group, less reverent now, argued. Only Little Junior remained silent, his eyes unwilling to move from his daddy’s new foot. His hands were sweaty in his pockets and he wondered if any of the grown-ups would notice if he grabbed the foot. Sue took his hand before he had the chance and they followed his daddy as he hopped out on his one white foot.
At home, Junior leaned against the car, staring at his lawn after Sue and Little Junior went inside. Fescue. That was his secret. He had won the “Yard of the Month” award from the Neighborhood Association three months in a row now. Jimmy from two houses down was the previous title holder. Jimmy swore by Bermuda grass, but Junior knew that Fescue was what caught the judge’s eye. He stretched his leg out and let the grass tickle his stump. The grass was over 6 inches high now, but it still looked better than Jimmy’s, freshly mowed.
“Hey neighbor!” Jimmy called from his front yard. His grin exposed his missing tooth. Junior thought if he could, he would run away. But Jimmy was already crossing the Angelo’s lawn and Junior could not have made it in time.
“You get the fake foot?”
“No, don’t need it,” Junior said holding up his exposed stump.
Jimmy knelt down, his nose a few inches from Junior’s leg.
“Did they keep the real foot? Can’t they just sew that one back on?”
“It got chewed up in the mower blades. It took Sue twenty minutes to pry the rest of my shoe out.”
Jimmy winced. “Can I see it? “
“What do you think we kept it in the freezer? Sue threw it out when we come back from the hospital.”
“You need help with your lawn? I saw Sue out here trying to mow last week. Darlene liked to throw a fit, Sue being pregnant and all.”
Junior looked past Jimmy to his lawn. The edging was crooked. The yard was mowed horizontally on the left side and vertically on the right. He cut it too short and some sections were starting to turn brown. Everyone knew that his “Yard of the Month” was from Darlene’s azalea bushes coming in so pretty this year.
“No man thanks though.” Junior said.
“Sue gonna do it?”
“No, Dr. Abdul said that he is going to put her on bed rest if she tries to mow again. She worked in the yard right up until the day Little Junior was born, but I guess this being twins and all-”
“Hey Jimmy, How’s Darlene?” Sue was holding the front door open leaning forward. At 5 feet tall, Junior said that he did not know whether it would be easier to walk around her or over her. Her round arms and tree trunk legs took attention away from her swelling belly.
“She’s fine, at her mother’s this weekend,” Jimmy said, still looking at Junior’s stump.
“You want to stay for dinner? It’s chicken potpie.”
Sue did not seem to notice the angry look that Junior shot over his shoulder and walked out letting the door slam behind her.
“Junior and I were just trying to figure out what was going to happen to the lawn. What about Little Junior?” Jimmy said, ignoring the invitation.
“He won’t go near a mower now—has nightmares about them. He saw the whole accident you know. Just stood there, didn’t scream or nothing. Junior was cussing and rolling around. Blood was everywhere. I didn’t think that I would ever get the mower cleaned up,” Sue leaned against the car and reached out for Junior’s hand.
“I got it!” Jimmy slapped Junior’s back. “You should go to Home Depot and pick up some Mexicans. That’s what Darlene’s sister did when her husband run off.”
“Yeah sure, and while I’m there I can pick up one to teach Little Junior how to throw a football and one to take care of Sue in the bedroom. I can take care of my own home Jimmy,” Junior stood up, putting his crutches under his arms.
“Well, you are going to have to do something soon. If that grass gets much higher someone may report you to the Neighborhood Association. I’m gonna catch you later on that potpie Sue. Darlene left a casserole in the freezer.” He glanced down at the stump again. “Dang I sure wish you had kept that foot. You probably could have charged people to come see it.” Jimmy turned and jogged back to his own inferior lawn.
Junior was the first one up the next morning. He hopped outside to feel the grass underneath his barefoot. With his crutches, he made his way across the lawn and into the backyard. The grass in the back was much higher than the front, coming almost to his knees. He hopped over to the storage shed to make sure it was locked. About four feet in front of the shed, he froze. The grass under his foot was soft-unusually soft. The morning sun was reflecting off the grass and it was an emerald green like Junior had never seen on grass. And it was as thick as a shag carpet. This 4X6 foot patch of grass had “Yard of the Year” written all over it. This was the grass Junior had dreamed of having. He leaned his crutches against the shed and lowered himself to the ground. The damp grass soaked through Junior’s pajama pants as he sat there gently running his hands back and forth feeling each individual blade. This was where it happened. The events leading up to the bloody affair were still a little fuzzy. Sue thought that he was suffering from post traumatic stress disorder. He had not told her about the 10 Bud Lights that he had before he had gone out to mow that day. Slowly, Junior felt an idea pushing its way through---
“The blood,” He said aloud before he fully realized what it meant.
The blood had been everywhere. So much blood that Little Junior and Sue thought he was dying. Blood must be nature’s best fertilizer. Junior sat there marveling at the grass that the sacrifice of his foot had given him. He knew that he was going to have to “fertilize” his entire lawn somehow. Jimmy had probably already called the Neighborhood Association to anonymously report his unregulation grass height. This lawn situation would have to be taken care of quickly and quietly.
Junior sat in front of the shed, feeling the grass and struggling to come up with a feasible plan. He had never killed anyone before. In fact, Thou Shall Not Kill was the only one of Ten Commandments left that he had not broken. But it was the only way. He was not an animal, there would have to be rules. No women. No children. No men that had wives or children that needed them. Unfortunately, his town did not have any homeless people and he would have to go all the way into Memphis to find some. Travelers through town were very rare. Junior was about to give up on his discovery when fate stepped in—on her tree trunk legs.
“Honey, you okay? Are you having flashbacks? I read about that with your ‘disorder’,” Sue had been watching him from behind the screen door. She told Little Junior to stay in the kitchen and joined her husband outside.
“I’m just thinking Babe, no flashbacks,” Junior said.
Sue sat down next to Junior and laid her head on his shoulder.
“You know we really need to do something about our lawn Junior.”
“I guess we do,” Junior had been thinking about nothing else.
“I wish you would think about what Jimmy said yesterday. Darlene says that those Mexicans have been a lifesaver for her sister. They fixed her porch steps, mowed, and patched the leak in her roof. She says they’re real nice and don’t charge much. Poor souls get up before sunrise and wait outside the Home Depot for work seven days a week. No women to take care of them—a pitiful life if you ask me.”
Junior never asked Sue her opinion on anything, she just gave it. But this time, her opinion was crucial in cultivating his brilliant discovery. To release someone from a pitiful life was not evil. It was heroic. Junior tried to jump up, forgetting his lacking foot and fell forward.
“What are you doing Junior? It was a flashback wasn’t it? I knew it! Just stay here. I’ll got get you something to bite down on.” Sue struggled to lift her round body from the ground and quickly waddled toward the house.
“That’s a seizure, not a flashback. And I’m not having either one,” Junior said pulling himself up on his crutches.
“Sue, I’m going to head into town and I need to take the truck.”
“But Hon, the truck is a stick. How are you going to use the clutch with your…you know,” Sue gestured toward the stump.
“I can manage,” Junior said and hopped past Sue into the house.
Twenty minutes later, Junior was buckling himself into their Toyota truck. He was wearing two Nike tennis shoes. The right one laced up, and the left one duct taped tightly onto his stump. It was not as easy as he had hoped, but Junior figured out how to apply enough pressure to push in the clutch. Sue had a doctor’s appointment, so Little Junior had to ride along.
At The Home Depot, there were almost as many people shopping outside as shopping inside. Junior hopped out and grabbed his crutches from the bed of the truck. Fifteen men were climbing into the back of two City Beautiful Landscaping trucks and he was worried that there would not be anyone left for his project. The trucks pulled away and he saw that two men remained. As he approached, the men were looking at his shoe with the duct tape and speaking to each other in Spanish. Junior decided to speak before he lost his nerve.
“I need one man to mow, edge, and fertilize my grass.”
The men spoke in Spanish again before the older of the two stepped forward.
“How much?”
“Forty dollars.”
“You bring me back here after?
“Sure, you’ll be done before lunch but we better get moving.”
Junior was going to make Little Junior move over, but the Mexican jumped into the back of his truck before he could say anything. The ride was quiet. Little Junior was turned around in his seat staring at the Mexican who was sitting with his back to the window. Junior was lost in thought, thinking about his plan, and did not notice the deer that ran out in front of the truck until it was too late. He slammed on his brakes, but the front left end of the truck knocked the animal’s legs out from under it and sent him flying over the cab. When the car finally came to a stop, Little Junior was lying in Junior’s lap.
“You okay buddy?” Junior was surprised to hear how shaky his voice sounded.
His son whimpered.
“Hey, Hey, You awake?” He gently slapped his cheek.
“Junior Roy Hickory the second! Wake up son, you hear me?”
With this the boy stirred and sat up, rubbing his head.
“We okay?”
The boy nodded. Other than a bloody lip, he seemed to be fine. Junior remembered the blood. Would deer blood work as fertilizer? Maybe he would not have to kill the Mexican after all.
“Oh no, the Mexican!” Junior threw his door open and jumped to the pavement. Pain shot up his leg and he fell to the ground. The shoe taped on had not offered much support. He grabbed the car door handle and pulled himself up. Leaning over the truck bed he saw the Mexican, lying face down, underneath the deer. Little Junior was turned around in his seat again staring at the Mexican, at the deer, at the pool of blood that was forming around them in the truck.
“Turn around Buddy, you don’t need to see this.”
Little Junior seemed frozen, eyes fixed. His father knocked loudly on the window, startling him.
“Turn around now son.” His son obeyed.
Junior pulled a green tarp out of his toolbox and tucked it around the bodies and hopped back into the truck.
“We don’t need to tell your Momma none of this alright? It would just upset her and she don’t need no more upsetting in her condition. Understand?”
Little Junior nodded. He reached out and patted his son’s head.
“You’re a good boy.”
Junior looked at the clock on the dashboard. 8:34. At least four more hours until Sue would get home. This was unbelievable luck. Junior had a hard time not laughing out loud. At home, he had Little Junior open the gate and pulled the truck into the backyard.
“Okay son, I am gonna need your help,” Junior, leaning on one crutch, dropped the tailgate. It looked like a young buck, about 150 pounds. The Mexican looked to weigh about the same. If he pulled them out without being able to hold his balance, then they would knock him over and land on top of him. Little Junior would probably freeze up again and he would be stuck until Sue found him like that. He hated to do it, but he needed the boy’s help.
Junior and his son each grabbed hold of a hoof and pulled the deer out first. He landed in Sue’s gardening wagon and Little Junior was able to pull it behind the shed and dump it out by himself. They did the same with the Mexican. Junior sent the boy inside and went to work. He propped the unfortunate pairs’ heads over buckets and cut their throats. He went inside and waited for gravity to do the rest.
Twenty minutes later he came out to check on his fertilizer and was horrified to see the buckets were dry.
“Dead things don’t bleed,” Little Junior had snuck out behind his daddy.
“What you doing out here. Get inside before I beat your butt boy!”
“There is no blood pressure. The heart stops, the blood stops flowing, dead things don’t bleed. Just thought you should know.” Little Junior turned to go back into the house.
“Where in the hell you learn that? You’re in the fourth grade.”
“The fifth grade. We have internet access during free time. I finish my work faster than anybody. I get a lot of free time.” Little Junior said without turning to look at his father.
“I should call the police, just tell the truth about what happened.” Junior said to himself.
Little Junior was at the back door. He turned back to his father.
“Yeah Dad, you can say that the Deer and the Mexican cut each other’s throats in like a suicide pact- just like Romeo and Juliet.” He walked into the house and Junior thought he might have heard him laughing in the kitchen.
Junior did not have time to think about why his son seemed to know about all of these things that he should not. It did not take long for him to realize that pushing a shovel into the earth with a stump was not possible. After much negotiation, Little Junior agreed to dig the hole for the bodies in exchange for $50.
Junior called Sue.
“Hey Babe, How are the babies doing?”
“Geez, I don’t know. The doctor is running late and I am still waiting. I am thinking about just rescheduling and coming back home,” Sue said.
“I probably shouldn’t tell you this but your sister called. She sounded real upset. I think it was something about her boyfriend. She made me promise not to tell you that she was crying when she called—not wanting to upset you in your condition,” Junior lied.
“Oh no! I told you Roscoe was trouble didn’t I? Well I guess I am going to have to head all the way to Jo’s house. It may take a while to pry it out of her. Would you boys be okay without me for tonight?” Sue sounded as if she were already running.
Junior assured Sue that they would be fine and hung up. He looked out the window to the backyard. Little Junior was hidden behind the shed digging as fast as he could. For a ten year old boy though, that was not very fast. This was going to take all day. Junior spent the day in a lawn chair watching the boy, bringing him water but he refused to eat.
By bedtime, they had the deer and the Mexican buried in the same hole. Little Junior said a prayer. He insisted on calling them Romeo and Juliet.
Apparently, Jo and Roscoe actually were having problems. Sue and Jo sat up half the night talking it out and Sue fell asleep on the couch. The next morning Sue came in waving a yellow slip of paper.
“Look at this Junior, it was taped to our front door. It is our first warning from the Neighborhood Association. We have 3 days to cut our grass or they are going to fine us $50. I thought you were off to pick up a Mexican yesterday. This is so embarrassing, you have to do something.”
“All the Mexicans were used up yesterday Momma. We were gonna try and get there earlier today,” Little Junior said.
“Oh well, okay. You want to stay here with me or you running off with your daddy?” Sue reached down and tussled her son’s hair. “My goodness your hair is dirty. You and daddy sure must have played hard yesterday.”
A few minutes later, Father and Son were riding in the truck again. Junior stopped behind the service station to hose down the trunk bed. He was going to have to figure out something to tell Sue about the dent in the front end where he had hit the deer, Juliet.
“We are going to be bringing this one back when we are done right Daddy?” Little Junior asked.
“Yeah, I suppose so. Nature’s fertilizer is a little more trouble than its worth.”
They pulled up in front of the Home Depot again just in time to see several Mexicans getting on to the back of the City Beautiful trucks. This time there was only one man left. Little Junior got out of the truck to talk to him. Junior could see his son talking very animatedly with the man, gesturing wildly. He was mimicking walking behind a push mower when the man finally nodded and followed the boy back to the truck. Little Junior held the door open for the man, but he walked past him and jumped in the back of the truck.
“Hey come on! Ride up here with us.” Junior called through the glass.
The man just smiled and stayed in the back.
“He doesn’t speak English dad.”
“Oh,” Junior adjusted the mirror so he could keep an eye in the passenger.
It took almost half an hour to get back to their house. Junior drove between 25 and 30 miles per hour the entire way, checking his mirror constantly. At one point the man bent down and dropped out of view of the mirror and Junior panicked. Before he could pull over, the man sat back up into view.
Junior pulled his truck into the backyard, this time with a very much alive Mexican in the back of his truck. Junior sat on the tailgate and took off the tape that held his Nike to his stump. He had learned yesterday that it is much easier to tape the shoe to his pant leg than to his bare skin. He stretched his leg while Little Junior opened the shed and showed the Mexican the yard equipment.
“Hey Little Junior, stay out here and make sure that he does not go behind the shed and see the you-know-what,” Junior hopped to the back door, leaving his crutches in the truck.
Inside he and Sue were sitting at the kitchen table.
“You know Babe, I think I may call Mr. Lee and see if he still has that foot for me.”
“That’s great honey,” Sue yawned.
“Yeah, I’ll call him tonight.”
“Will you keep an eye on Little Junior? I think I am going to take a nap before I head out to Wal-Mart.”
“Sure Sue. You and those babies go get some rest.”
The mower had stopped a while ago. Junior figured the Mexican must be about done cleaning up by now. He looked out the window. No Little Junior. No Mexican. Junior leaned over the sink and saw shadows moving behind the shed.
“Shit!” He hopped to the back door and into the backyard.
“Hey! What’s going on back there?” Junior was starting to feel the strain in his right leg from bearing his weight. He hopped across the backyard to the shed. Behind the shed he saw his son, duct tape over his mouth sitting with his back to the fence. The Mexican was kneeling over the unearthed bodies of ‘Romeo and Juliet.’ Which one he was crying over was unclear to Junior.
“Why? Why? What is wrong with you—crazy red-neck son of a bitch!” the Mexican said in perfect English.
“It’s not what you think it is, just calm down amigo.”
“My brother knew that there was something wrong with you. He went to protect me. I found his wallet in the back of your truck. Your son said that you killed him to fertilize your lawn. What kind of freak are you? You turning your son into a killer too? He’s as weird as you man. Was proud to show me where he buried them. I’m calling the cops. You’re going to jail man. Your son will be lucky if he just goes to the nuthouse.”
Junior was trying to size up the situation. He could not run. He could not fight the Mexican, he would fall over. He did not want to go to jail and he did not want Little Junior to go to the nuthouse. He just wanted to win “Yard of the Month.” The Mexican had done a surprisingly good job on the yard. The Mexican did not seem to have any weapons, just a pair of scissors in his back pocket with the duct tape. Maybe he could lunge at him. The Mexican was just a normal guy and he thought Junior was a murderer. Fear was the only thing that Junior had going for him, he could scare him away. Junior, one arm holding onto the side of the shed, leapt towards the Mexican and growled as loudly as he could. The Mexican grabbed the scissors from his pocket and thrust them into Junior’s stomach. Junior’s growl was cut short.
Little Junior was starting to buck on the ground trying to free himself from the duct tape. The Mexican ran across the backyard, through the gate and down the street. Junior was still worried that he would call the police and tried to hop after him. By the time he got to the gate, the Mexican was out of sight. Junior fell to the ground and crawled into the front yard. He crawled to where the yard met the concrete driveway and turned around. He crawled the length of the yard, slowly fertilizing his grass until he lost all strength. His arms buckled underneath him and he was vaguely aware of the scissors being pushed further into his body as he collapsed.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.
