Finishing the Task

Tabitha walked quickly away from her twin. She almost stomped as anger seethed from every pore. “We’re just too different,” she called over her shoulder as she continued down the path away from their home.

Shouldering her backpack as she walked, she briskly brushed the tears away from her eyes, took a deep breath, and slowed her pace to a gentle stride. Her jeans swished as her legs passed each other with each stride. The countryside had never looked so bleak. The dead of winter never showed off the place to its advantage. Too far south for snow, but not far enough for lush vegetation. Brown dead stuff surrounded her, sending her spiraling down from anger to gloom. She turtled deep into her coat collar.

Both widowed. Both retired. Both had thought that sharing living space and expenses a good idea. But they were just too different. Gray hair, green eyes, same height, same weight. Same college degree. But they were just too different.

Sylvia stared out the window at the retreating back of her twin. A twisted smile crossed her face. Hands on hips, she turned around to face the scene of their argument. An overturned chair next to the corpse was the only indication they had been at each other’s throats. Deciding that dwelling on the near past was futile, she headed to the kitchen to make a cup of tea—and to sharpen her knives. Maybe Tabitha had been right about that one little item. Sharp knives are imperative for a good job of dismembering.

Tabitha kicked at a stone that lay in her path. It didn’t move. She hopped up and down on her uninjured foot as she shook the foot with the injured big toe. She pursed her lips to keep a string of invectives from escaping. It wouldn’t do for someone to hear them issue from her mouth. She and Sylvia had a reputation to maintain.

She paused. Why had she included Sylvia in that thought? Sylvia didn’t care about her reputation. Tabitha sat down on a large rock at the edge of the path. She suspected that the stone she had tried to kick out of her way was actually a buried part of this much bigger rock. Taking off her sneaker, she surveyed the damage. The toe was already swelling. Should she go back? Would Sylvia see it as capitulation? That she had hurt herself on purpose? The anger began to swell again. Just because decades ago she had pretended to hurt herself to get more attention from the parents—it hadn’t worked then so why would she do it now? But Sylvia would slyly bring up that day and make her feel a fool for not helping her twin with the disposal of the parents’ bodies. That was the only time Tabitha had shirked the shared responsibility of finishing the task—until today.

She huffed and puffed and wished for a house to blow down. Then Tabitha turned around and headed back toward the cottage. Facing Sylvia would not be easy. That I told you so attitude really bit. Determined to do her part without responding to her sister’s jibes, she entered the house and looked at the corpse. Picking up the chair, she put it back by the desk where the man on the floor had pulled it from. He had thought he could come in and take money from them. Not. One of the reasons they lived at the back of beyond was no security cameras. If asked, they would say he had never been there.

The body of the county assessor’s assistant definitely had started to cool, and rigor would set in shortly. They needed to get to work. The back garden was certainly beginning to fill up with body parts. They needed to pick a new area. Tabitha had suggested they begin to work around the west side of the cottage. The flowers over there could use some mulch, but Sylvia wanted to go east. Just to be contrary, of course.

Sylvia heard the front door close and knew that Tabitha was back. Twirling her knives. Thinking. Should she let her twin have her way? Was it worth a fight to the death to stand her ground? The east side needed to be built up before they could plant anything. But the west side could use the help, too. Always one eighty out! She gritted her teeth trying to decide.

If they had only remembered to pay the tax bill, then this wouldn’t be happening at all. They couldn’t even agree on who was supposed to have paid the bill. Sylvia said it was her turn, but Tabitha insisted it was hers. Tabitha had knocked the chair over heading to the desk. Sylvia had snickered and Tabitha had run into her room, packed, and headed out. She hadn’t even picked up the chair.

Now, both women were in the living room facing one another. Sylvia carrying her knives. Tabitha puling her camping hatchet out of the backpack. The twisted smile lay across Sylvia’s lips. Tabitha trembled but not from anger. She was feeling that feeling. The anticipation of finishing the task.

“I wish I hadn’t run away from the blood,” she said.

Sylvia knew what she meant. The apology. It always came right before they finished the fresh kills. Sylvia had never minded finishing those first two bossy people. She and Tabitha had gone on to be science teachers. Not a lot of money, but they were the boss in their own classrooms. Principles had sometimes disappeared during their time at a school. And once, a superintendent. Sylvia’s twisted smile deepened. That had been the best time.

What had they been fighting about? Oh yes. The best way to start with this one. Tabitha thought that Silvia’s knives were too dull, and Silvia thought that the hatchet wasn’t delicate enough. Well, the knives weren’t dull anymore, Tabitha had apologized, and that rigor wasn’t going to wait for anyone. They got to work—finishing the task.