Dirsh

“Have you heard?”

A familiar phrase that sprouts intrusion.

“What gossip do you have this time?”

A reaction phrase to spark the intrusion.

“Have you heard about the recent locust killer?”

However, this time they will be unknowingly speaking facts.

“Is it the one who guts victims and stuffs them with grasshoppers?

“Yup, like a thanksgiving turkey.”

.....

It’s the middle of the day that Father and mother decide to commence their routine to which they struggle each other’s throat with their mind games. Meanwhile, I remained cooped in my room; my parent's arguing penetrating all four walls of the house, but Father tends a quiet voice.

“Most of the crops are dead since locusts season came. I can’t pay the workers this month.”

“That’s because you keep spending it on your friends instead of the workers who are actually putting food on our table. You should be thankful, I was still able to convince them to wait a little longer!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about! I was able to farm and buy those trucks thanks to my friends, and please can you keep your voice down. They’ll hear us.”

“Is it just that? Or do you just care so much about your reputation because they feed your massive ego!”

Silence. My bedside clock unexpectedly starts to tick loudly and so is my heartbeat.

Three.

Two.

One.

As I cued the movie scene, my mother said her lines.

“Don’t you dare raise your hands over me! You don’t want your reputation ruined. Do you?”

Mother gets Father every time. He subdued his guard. I heard rushing footsteps passed through my bedroom then there was a slam on the door.

Mother - 99

Father - 0

Mother impressed me; she merely mentions one word — reputation— and Father is wrapped around her finger. However, an unbearable familiar feeling builds up in my throat every time their antics occur, and it disrupts my activity on going to the woods. I decided to finally stop this.

.....

“What about it?”

“I’ve got a theory in mind that connects this killer to the Dirsh Family”

The ears of the theorist’s acquaintance perked and laughed. How far-fetched!

“I see that you’re taking your gossiping skills to the next level on unsolved murder cases, but you’re a little outdated. That family moved out of this town years ago.”

“I know.” The theorist fiddles with the empty teacup provided by the current acquaintance.

“I heard that the father was quite well-known in this town back in the day.”

“Don’t be silly. Everyone knows each other in this little farming town. Well, you see, a police officer came over to my house asking if I know whereabouts of the Dirsh family ”

………..

Father was indeed right. The locusts devoured the cabbage crops at our farm.

Crouching and hunched over, I watched a group of locusts biting and devouring the cabbage leaf. They were stepping on each other’s back, trying their best to eat the most of the leaf and emitting their muffled buzzing sounds. The second to my list, below my parents’ arguing, that I despise the most.

I held a rock, ready to bust the brains of these locusts all at once.

“Hey, What are you doing?!” Mother yelled for me; I immediately stood and spun. The golden sunset appeared behind her, showing her silhouette, baggy clothed petite figure with a cabbage basket perfectly balanced on her head. Her hand waved to me while the other held the basket for balance. She never failed to impress me on how her petite body was able to withhold such a stance.

I threw my basket over my shoulder and made my way to the unruly undefined rows of cabbages. Its residual leaves are everywhere.

“Is that what you’ve got?” My mother looked at my half-empty basket.

“Yes, mother. All were either a victim of the locusts or my grasp.” As Mother lead the front, we descended succeedingly on the narrow dirt stairs of our terraced cabbage farm.

“The locusts came very unusually this year. We might have to start eating them.”

I let out a loud exaggerated sigh.

“We do this every year! You should be used to it by now”

I put down my basket, meaning to catch her attention. She turned to me with puzzled eyes.

I’ll be straightforward.

“Can you and dad stop screaming loudly every day.”

…….

“I told them that the family moved to the city years ago, they never came back, and some basic information that they were a very young couple with an only child and all that.”

“Did that you tell them about the Father?”

“Of course I did. That’s the cherry on top of the family!”

The kettle in the kitchen began to whistle, and the theorist’s acquaintance immediately came to the kettle’s aid, turning the stove off.

…..

My parents' loud shenanigans didn’t commence today.

What a relief.

My request to Mother was heard loud and clear.

However, it was only because Father wasn’t there, so it’s not guaranteed yet if they’ll stop. Before sundown, Father was supposed to bring back the caught locusts from our farm to our home, so that we can eat them. My mother and I weren't too worried about his absence, and we thought that he decided to be with his friends that day. Not very unusual. We ended up having a cabbage soup to which I happily devoured.

I'll finally be going to the woods.

……

“After the father’s death, the mother and child left the town, right?” The theorist hummed in response while the acquaintance placed a tea packet in the theorist’s cup.

“Putting on my the-worried-attached-neighbor act, — It worked by the way — I asked the police officer if the family’s in trouble or anything; he said no, they were just under the suspicion of a recent case.”

……

A night passed, and Father still didn’t return home. I savored a tranquil sleep. When the morning came, I’m delighted that Mother didn’t wake me early to help around the farm with her. The woods await me.

As I stood in the front door, the sight of a hanging coiled rope caught my attention.

A rope swing.

I could make a rope swing in the woods!

Filled with so much excitement, I ascended the terraces' narrow dirt stairs. Farmworkers appeared, gathering the last bit of good cabbages they could find. I dashed past them; my presence appearing unbothered to them. Rows of the green terraces continued as I ascended; my little legs ready to collapse, and beads of sweat leaking on my forehead.

On top of the mighty high terraces, the woods live there and I’m finally here. I’ve been here before a few times to which I managed to memorize my supposed destination within the woods, but this time I wanted to change course since I saw a cliff nearby.

What an unexpected view! Instead of massive green farm terraces, It overlooked the town.

The tiny grey galvanized houses spotted all over the green canvas of the farm. A narrow dirt road snaked to every house; the only road to be able to leave this town. I felt the push of the howling wind.

But then, a sudden faint sound of painful grunting replaced my astonishment into terror. The wind went quiet.

It’s awfully familiar.

Backing away from the cliff’s edge, there was more faint grunting.

…….

“Then, I started talking about how I noticed that the family seemed distant like the dad was always out with some friends. You can totally see that “distance” after what happened to the dad. The officer left after that.”

“C’mon, that’s not it!” The acquaintance was expecting much more from the theorist.

“Before leaving though, he said something that really struck me. “This information is really helpful in solving such a brutal recent case.”

The acquaintance filled the theorist’s teacup with the kettle’s boiling water.

…….

It surely was coming from a person probably hanging on the side of a cliff. The logical way to handle this situation is to probably call for an adult, but that option will leave my mom troubling me so much. I don’t want to deal with that!

Personally finding this person is my best choice. Besides, I have my rope with me. Laying on my stomach to take a peek on the cliff’s edge, I first saw a roof of tree leaves that prohibited me to view the person’s body. A growing tree branch on the cliff’s side probably stopped the person from falling to their death.

“HELLO!” I screamed. They might be dead for all I know. But, If I find this person dead, what’s my next plan?

I took off my slippers, uncoiled the rope, tied it around the nearest tree, and let it hang on the cliff. There’s almost a six feet difference from the tree branch to the cliff’s top.

I’ll be fine and down I go.

As my feet touched the tree branch, it was surprisingly wide and sturdy. Ahead of me, where the tree branch stretches, was the sight of a laying male body. The ray of sunlight going through the tree leaves presented the body with such elegance. He lies on his stomach, surprisingly bloodless, and his arms hanging loosely on each side. One move could cost him to slip from the branch and fall to his death, and his face was the face of the man who kept me from going to the woods. When arguing, he speaks quietly with such concern on the neighbors, for his reputation, which he carefully nurtures, screams its importance. He goes out with his friends trying to reclaim those missed youthful days only then to either argue with Mother or be emotionally distant back at home. His continued absences keep salting the wounds over the huge regret of our family’s existence, yet he still manages to keep the bag of locusts, meant for our family dinner last night, laying between his legs. It didn’t fell.

He grunts then twitch his body.

My poor numb mother who has gotten this far with Father deserves a rest. I do, too.

An unthinkable happened. I placed my hands on his shoulder blades and pushed him to his death.

…

“Days later after the dad’s disappearance, they found the dead body at the bottom of the cliff. The majority of the town concluded it was an accident. The whole town mourned; he was remembered as the town’s good friend.”

“Oh! I remember that you said during the funeral, the mother and kid didn’t even cry.”

“Yeah, and I theorized that it could be familicide.”

“Are you saying that either the mother or the kid was the locust killer?”

“The theorist smirked while drinking her tea.

“The kid, the kid is plausibly alive.”

The acquaintance chuckled. “You and your crazy theories.”

The theorist looked out to the rear window. A single locust sits on the window screen.

It made the theorist remember those days of the town’s locust season, but that train of memories stopped on one particular day.

Could it be true?

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