Disintegration

by Scott Nicholson

  He mouthed the words that he'd said next, in sync with the tape. "A million dollars, honey."

  Joshua clicked the tape recorder off as Renee slumped in surrender. Carlita must have found something blunt and wooden, because she was hammering on the shed door, causing slivers of wood to fall from the planks. The wind had risen, and the air had gone cool with the dying of the day. The sun now touched the ridge, an obscene orange ball whose light smeared the clouds into stained rags and sent fingers of hellish flame across the homestead.

  "You taped it," Renee said to Jacob.

  "You know how I feel about insurance."

  "Goddamn you, you taped it."

  "If we got caught, I wasn't going to go down alone."

  Joshua slid the tape recorder into his shirt pocket. Though Renee had stopped struggling, he kept her pinned against the car's fender. Or maybe he just enjoyed the heat of her body. "A Wells never fails."

  "And two Wells are better than one," Jacob said.

  "You're insane," Renee said between sobs. "Both of you."

  "Shit," Joshua said. "I ain't the one that killed my own kid for money."

  "Yes, you are," Jacob said. "I never would have done that. But you would."

  "Hell, I started the fire, but you're the one that fucked up. You were supposed to get her out of there."

  Jacob grinned, and the expression felt like a live snake across his face. "I tried. But maybe I didn't try as hard as I could."

  Renee stared at him, then past him, eyes wide and blank. "Jakie. Oh, Jakie."

  "I couldn't let her live," Jacob said to Renee. "You can see that, can't you?"

  "Oh, Jesus, Jacob."

  Joshua spat. "What the hell, it was another million, right?"

  "It's all Christine's fault. She died natural and it paid good. Mattie was just too healthy."

  Renee sagged and Joshua released her. She fell to her knees, sobs wracking her shoulders. She tried to speak, but the words became gasps. The sunset threw the migrant camp into a golden light, the color of Jacob's memories. Of watching Carlita and Joshua through the window, of fantasizing that he was his younger brother, that he could trade his life for Joshua's.

  Only he couldn't trade fifty-fifty. He was too deeply in debt.

  "Two million for two kids," Joshua said to Renee. "And two million for you. But I'm taking a down payment first. I got a feeling you ain't had a real man in years."

  "What about the autopsy?" Jacob said.

  "Shit. Semen got DNA, don't it?"

  "Well, we got the same DNA, so go for it."

  Renee looked at Jacob, wondering about the next breath and how it could possibly force itself from the sky and into her constricted, brick-hard lungs. She'd pushed him to this. She was the one that put value in material things. She wanted the Wells world, the power, the land, the respect. She'd wanted to be a Wells more than Jacob ever had.

  Mattie, that was an accident. But Christine…

  As if he could read her thoughts, Jacob said, "I didn't kill Mattie for the money."

  He sat on the Chevy's hood and lit a cigarette, then blew smoke into Joshua's face. "I killed her because she was yours."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Renee's muscles were damp rags. Her tongue was swollen in her mouth, her throat tight. The ringing in her ears was so intense she might have misheard Jacob.

  Mattie was Joshua's?

  The revelation made the horizon blur on the edge of her vision and the sky was an obscene and smothering ocean above her. Her head throbbed, her eyeballs ached, her jaws clenched. Her intestines felt as if they had been yanked from her gut and knotted around her larynx. But beneath the sick pressure in her rib cage was a small and sick glow of joy-she bore no blame for Mattie's death.

  It was all Jacob's fault.

  But what was Joshua saying about Christine?

  She couldn't understand, didn't want to. The pounding on the shed door was like the beat of a bruised wooden heart, and Carlita's Spanish curses and screams came in muffled arrhythmia behind it. The sun cast doomsday lava over the land. Renee closed her eyes and put her hands over her ears, but it was too late. The knowledge had entered and could never be purged.

  Jacob had killed their children.

  "Get up," Joshua shouted at her in his rough, smoky voice. She opened her eyes to the scarred tips of his boots. She lifted her head, though gravity was an unforgiving enemy.

  "Hear what he just said?" Joshua said.

  She couldn't speak. Words had become gravel in her lungs.

  "He torched our kid," Joshua said. "Ain't that just like a Wells?"

  She shook her head and an impossible smile came to her lips. The sunset was warm on her face, the air pine-sweet, the river churning and cold below. This was the far end of the world, this land that had created the Wells twins. The gates of hell must surely be somewhere nearby, waiting for them all to enter.

  " Our kid." Joshua snorted with derision. "Reckon my seed took where his wouldn't."

  She tried to arrange his words into a sensible structure. Language had become an elusive snake burrowing into a moist hole in the riverbank. All she knew was the song of the river, its sibilant rush, its bright splashing against stones, slithering toward a place far away.

  That August night when Jacob had taken her by force, had spent his passion into her again and again, when she'd fully opened herself to him and let him reach and join in that most sacred sanctuary. It hadn't been Jacob after all. It had been Joshua.

  Even in that drunken darkness, she should have known. Maybe she had known but deceived herself. Maybe she'd craved that side of Jacob he would never let slip from his control. And the wanting had brought Joshua to her.

  Wish me, cooed the mad voice in her head. Wish me that two Wells are better than one.

  "Come on," Joshua said, reaching down and grabbing her arm. He pulled Renee to her feet and put an arm around her. His sweat drowned out the wet smell of the river. She leaned against him, a rag doll with a hot wire girding its spine.

  "Well, Jake, let's get 'er done," Joshua said. "Sounds like Carlita's getting a mite restless."

  "Wait a second," Jacob said. "Don't you get it? I killed your goddamned kid."

  "Big whoop-dee-shit."

  "I won, see? I fucked you over harder than you ever fucked me. I'm more of a Wells than you are."

  "Oh, I get it now. That blame thing. It's all my fault you killed Momma, right?" Joshua slipped a cigarette between his lips and lit it. When he exhaled, the smoke strangled Renee. "You won nothing," he said to Jacob.

  "Carlita," Jacob replied.

  "You could have had her for a few thousand, dumbass. My first time, it only cost twenty bucks. But four million ain't bad."

  Jacob nodded at Renee. "Paid in full, brother."

  Renee's legs trembled. Her mind was crushed by the wild clouds above, the fog of God's breath, the rising twilight that darkened the eastern horizon. Joshua eased her toward the Chevy.

  Two million.

  Her line on Jacob's M amp; W insurance policy.

  Jacob was getting rid of her, too. Cashing her in, just as he had done their children.

  Means to an end.

  And Jacob's end was to become his brother.

  "I figure the bridge," Joshua said.

  "Not bad," Jacob said. "She lost her footing in the dark, fell into the river, and smashed her head on the rocks. Blacked out and drowned. Another tragedy."

  "Them Wells sure do got bad luck."

  "The grieving husband and father. No one will blame me for marrying Carlita so soon after my loss."

  "And the money suits me. Carlita's kind is a dime a dozen. I don't know what it is about her that drove you so donkeyshit."

  "She was yours."

  Joshua opened the car door on the rear driver's side. Renee tried to pull away, but he shoved her into the stinking seat amid the fast-food wrappers and empty beer cans. Jacob climbed in behind her and slammed the door while Joshua got behind the wheel. Renee sa
t up but Jacob put his weight on top of her.

  His mouth pressed against her ear. "Sorry about the kids. But this is the only way."

  "You're crazy," she managed to say.

  "No, Joshua's crazy. Because this is the kind of thing I would never do unless I was him."

  Joshua started the car with a rumble of pipes. Music blasted from the speakers, Johnny Cash singing about the green, green grass of home. She crawled across the seat and lunged for the door, but the handle was missing. She tried to climb over the seat but Jacob grabbed her hair and yanked. The engine gunned and the car lurched forward, bouncing on sprung shocks as it crawled along the narrow dirt road.

  Renee slumped against the rear of the seat, her head turned toward the dark window. Only the outlines of the trees were visible and the ridges were black humps against a violet sky. Johnny Cash hit the last verse of the ballad, awakening from a dream to find himself in prison facing a death sentence.

  "Why, Jakie?" she said to the window. In the dashboard's dim glow, she could see his reflection in the window. His twisted face, narrowed eyes, and bright scarred skin made him look like a demon.

  "Because you wanted me to," he said.

  Joshua reached down to the floorboard and pulled out a can of beer. He steered with his elbow while he popped the tab. Foam sprayed across the windshield, lathering the twin troll heads that hung from the mirror. "No, she wanted me to," Joshua said. "Ain't that right, honey?"

  "Shut up," she said. "You made Jake do this."

  "It was his idea. All I did was nudge him along. See, I always wanted what was best for him. Not like you."

  "I gave him everything." She turned to Jacob. "I gave you everything."

  The tears came and it was as if she was looking through greased glass. Jacob sneered at her and said, "You gave Joshua everything. You had Mattie for him."

  Her voice cracked like her mind was cracking. "I didn't know."

  "I thought Christine would make up for it. But she wasn't as perfect as Mattie. She wasn't a Wells."

  "How could you?"

  "Christine was easy. No whimpers with a plastic bag, no blood, no questions asked."

  Renee said nothing. She was next to die, but she didn't care anymore. Perhaps in heaven she would have her children back. She could spend an eternity begging their forgiveness, and maybe one day on the far side of forever, they would love her again.

  Johnny Cash went into a song about a highwayman, dying and coming back again and again. The vocal part was taken over by Willie Nelson, then by someone she couldn't recognize. She lost herself in the slick guitars, a "Wish me" game of dissociation and despair.

  Joshua finished his beer and tossed the can behind him. The car hit a rut and he bounced high enough that his head hit the roof. He cursed and slowed down a little. The night had become liquid and the Chevy moved through it like a bottom feeder.

  "I mean, you're sweet and all," Joshua said to her. "But you ain't as sweet as money."

  "You know what's funny?" Jacob said to his brother.

  "What?"

  "You're going to be richer than the old man."

  "Shit fire. That's great. Maybe I'll dig the old bastard up and prop his skeleton at the dinner table. Piss in his coffee cup."

  "He always did love you best."

  "Naw. That was Momma."

  "You would have killed her if I hadn't gotten to it first."

  "Well, you beat me at one thing, I reckon."

  The Johnny Cash was winding down in a repetitive guitar riff. Joshua stopped the car and killed the engine. "Here we are."

  He opened his door and the dome light blinked on. Renee could hear the river churning below. She recalled her drive over the bridge and pictured the water thirty feet below. It wasn't a far enough fall to kill her unless her head hit a rock. But bad luck followed the Wells family.

  And, sometimes, you had to make your luck.

  Joshua left the door open after he exited, and the dome light cast a dirty yellow glow. Jacob grabbed Renee's wrist, his face a mask of wicked joy. She didn't struggle. These two men had already torn her to shreds. There was nothing left worth fighting over.

  Joshua opened the back door. "Bring her on."

  Jacob's Southern accent returned, a bizarre replica of his brother's. "Reckon we ought to bash her head in first, or just chuck her over the side?"

  "You want to make sure. It ain't the kind of thing you leave up to chance. What if she turns up alive six miles downstream?"

  "That would be sand in the craw, all right."

  "You do it. You'll enjoy it more than I will."

  "Why, thanks, Josh. I appreciate it."

  "I'm Jacob, remember? Don't go getting all confused on me, or we'll never get the story straight."

  "Right, Jake. You're the Wells now. I'm just pig shit, rolling around with a Mexican whore in a Tennessee trailer park."

  "And you're going to love every minute of it. I know I did, but now it's time for the big switcheroo."

  Jacob's hand tightened around Renee's wrist, sending sparks of pain up her arm. Joshua handed his brother something, and Renee saw its rusty bulk in the dome light.

  A pipe wrench.

  She could almost see the police report: Blunt head trauma, followed by asphyxiation due to drowning.

  Jacob's latest accidental victim.

  And who would be next? Joshua? Carlita? Or would he plant more seed, each sprout insured for a million dollars?

  "Hold her for a sec." Joshua got out of the driver's side and went to the back door. He yanked it open and leaned in, his breath sour with beer and cigarettes and the lingering tang of salsa. "Come here, sweetie."

  Renee backed away, kicking, until she was across the seat. Joshua climbed in, and now she recognized that perverse grin, one glimpsed in the dim light of a night nearly a decade ago. The night of Mattie's conception.

  She shoved her foot toward his face. He caught it and his eyes twinkled in the greasy dome light, the cut on his forehead oozing blood again. "Hmm. She still got a little fight in her. Tempting me to go one more round. What say, brother, wanna watch just for old times' sake?"

  Jacob yanked her wrist. "I can fantasize about it later. Right now, we better get her in the river."

  Joshua's face sagged, his smoker's wrinkles deepening. "Reckon so. Give the water more time to wash away evidence."

  "Besides, we'll still have Carlita."

  Renee wondered if they would play this sick game the rest of their lives. Swapping partners, playing with money and murder, tricking each other. But that was the future. She had none.

  Joshua dragged her by the ankle. She grabbed for the armrest but it came off in her hand. Her fingernails broke as she clawed at the nylon seat covering. No saving grip there.

  Jacob released her and got out of the car to join his brother. She knew this was her final chance. The passenger door was open, though it seemed miles away.

  She twisted upward, reaching for the front seat, but Jacob had her other leg now and she was being worried between them like a butcher-shop bone in the mouths of two dogs.

  "Treat her like a wishbone, brother," Jacob said.

  "I'm wishing for two million goddamned dollars. On three. One… "

  She wriggled, nothing.

  "Two… "

  "Jacob," she said. "Honey?"

  But the word was a lie. Even his name was a lie. He had always been Joshua.

  " Three. "

  She was jerked into the moist night.

  "Do her," Joshua said.

  He had Renee pinned to the rail, shoulders leaning toward the river, facing the whispering, frothing water below. Jacob tested the heft of the pipe wrench. How would she hit if she had actually fallen?

  No, not "if." When.

  Think it out, Jakie, just like always. Momma's cane… an accident. Could have happened to anybody. Anybody with a murderous son, that is.

  Christine. That one had been the saddest. But she was barely formed, not even talking. All
I did was save her from the life of a Wells. So that was a mercy killing.

  Mattie. Too bad about her. But she was Joshua's fault all the way, from sperm to burn victim.

  The moon was out, the clouds like violet sheep counting down to a restless sleep. He wondered if blood would spatter onto the bridge railing. He'd have to strike her at an angle, so the pattern would fly out and into the water.

  "Smash her up," Joshua urged. "Just like you did the chickens."

  The wrench grew heavy in Jacob's hand. "I didn't do the chickens."

  Joshua, holding Renee's arms behind her back, his crotch pressed against her rear, gave a thrust of his hips, causing the wooden railing to squeak with their combined weight. "Hell, yeah. You went donkeyshit, brother. Chopping their heads off, licking blood from the hatchet-"

  "Stop it."

  Red. The night had gone from purple to red.

  "You're one sick fuck, all right."

  "Shut up. That wasn't me. It was never me."

  "Tell it to the judge. I got a date with two million bucks."

  "I was only doing what you'd do, if you had the brains." Jacob gripped the wrench so tight his hand hurt. The metal was slick with his sweat. He thought of the fingerprints he would leave behind. And the DNA, which he shared with Joshua. The DNA one of them had passed to Mattie.

  And maybe Christine. He didn't know how often Joshua had slipped into his bed over the years.

  The blood in the Chevy would be Joshua's. The cops would figure it out. Even though Jacob had the same blood.

  "Do it, Jakie," Renee wheezed from constricted lungs. "Just like we talked about."

  Joshua turned toward him, his face as twisted as the rubberized troll heads hanging from the rearview mirror. Confusion. The dumb bastard had been late out of the womb, and had always been two steps behind his entire life.

  Jacob swung the wrench.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  "Blood everywhere," Jacob said, mopping at the stains on the railing.

  "No murder is perfect."

  "And you should know."

  "Live and learn. I guess you should go get Carlita. Think you guys will be happy together?"