Baby

Christ’s sake.” The sheriff grimaced as Netty’s body struck the ground in a heap, her skirt flipping up to reveal a cooling leg.
    Eli sheathed the knife he had used to cut the rope, bending over to nudge the skirt higher.
    “Anyone want to peek at the goods? I already had my share.” He looked around, sickness drooling from his rheumy eyes.
    Mr. Simpson joined him to stare down at the body. Lifting the skirt with the toe of his boot, he stared.
    “You better come take a look at this, boss.” Robert, the sheriff and the rest of the men gathered around the body. The sheriff slapped Simpson’s hand away as he held up her skirt.
    “Have some respect, you moron. She hasn’t suffered enough?” His face registered the disgust and revulsion of their actions. Siding up to him, Robert shot him a deceptively casual glance.
    “Sheriff, anytime working for me gets to be too much of a burden, you just let me know. I got five or six different men that might just kill for your job.” Roberts’s cold eyes and chilling tone spoke volumes. The sheriff’s expression shut down like a slammed door. Stepping back, he glad handed Robert forward.
    “Now, what do we have here, Eli?” Robert bent over. Eli’s face drained of color as he booted the body on its back.
    “ What the fuck? ” All heads swiveled together, leaning in to stare as Eli exposed Netty’s golden tail, her fur, soaked with urine.
    “Holy Christ …”
    “Devil’s work.”
    “She’s a freak.”
    “She was your wife, Robert, didn’t you know about this?” His men looked at him with suspicion. Robert looked from face to face seeing derision.
    “Boss, there’s sumin’ fishy about that pet a hers.”
    “Go get it Eli, and bring it over here.” Eli ran to the stoop of the cabin where Baby lay dead in the dirt. Grabbing the carcass by the tail, he returned to the men, tossing it on top of Netty’s body. Baby’s long leather arm landed on the side of Netty’s face as if in a caress. The men were dumbstruck. The tail on the creature matched the tail on the body. Slowly, the men edged back.
    “That’s just not normal.” Robert’s face looked carved in stone. The rest of the men muttered to themselves, fear tinged voices threatening to bolt. The sheriff stepped up to Robert, placing his hand on his shoulder reassuringly, his voice shaky.
    “Something happened here, for sure. We’ll never know what. Let’s just get them buried and get out of here before a neighbor wanders by. We can come back after the sale of the first acreage closes. I’ll send someone out here to bring the livestock into town. I know a guy down near Lafayette that will take them off your hands.” Robert didn’t respond, he just continued to stare at the bodies. The sheriff nodded his head, sending Robert’s men scurrying to the barn for picks and shovels.
    “Make sure you dig away from the house. Go behind the barn. Don’t want anyone seeing a grave being dug.” The men returned with their equipment. Stealing furtive looks at Robert’s icy demeanor, they grabbed the two bodies, dragging them through the dirt, Netty’s head with its broken neck, bumping forlornly in the dust.
    Locating a likely spot, the men hurriedly dug the grave, tossing the bodies unceremoniously on top of each other. As they all gathered around for a last look, the sheriff took the time to survey the wide range of emotions displayed at the lip of the grave; fear, disgust, wonderment, greed; and from Robert, finally hatred.
    “Cover ‘em up, boys.” Robert’s voice grated with harshness and animus. Turning on his heels, he headed to the horses. Shouting back to the men, he instructed, “Simpson, hitch your horse to that wagon and bring it back to town with you.”
    “Yeah, boss.” Turning back to the grave, Simpson spat, phlegm landing on the back of Netty’s now filthy and tangled golden hair. “Okay, let’s finish the job.” Bending to their task, the only sounds heard were the grunts of the men and the relentless drop of soil as it swiftly and efficiently covered all signs of the tragic pair that lay in the cold unyielding ground, one hand from each having landed as if reaching for the other.
    ###
    She felt like she was floating, drifting, the void enfolding her in its oddness, giving her refuge. It felt good, a blessed warmth surrounded her. The silence felt unfamiliar. She felt unsettled as she could not determine if she was sleeping or awake. She paused. How could that be?