Hard Lessons

Bobby watched as the man walked up the dirt road towards their home. A gentle breeze rustled the branches of the apple trees that congregated to his left. Sometimes Bobby would sit and watch the trees for hours. He had always thought that when the wind blew and their branches touched it was almost like the trees were talking to each other, plotting something. But today he didn't watch the trees, his eyes were focused on the man walking up the road. As he drew nearer Bobby could better make out his appearance, he wore battered jeans and overalls and a wide-brimmed brown hat. In his hand he carried what appeared to be an empty bag. When he got near, Bobby got up from where he was sitting and looked this man in the face. His skin was weathered and looked like the leather his mother had dried and tanned out last summer to make clothes for him and his father. The same leather his father wore when they buried him three months ago. "Your mother inside?" the man asked, his pale blue eyes seemingly staring straight through Bobby. Bobby wanted to tell this man from town that she wasn't, that this was the wrong house, that he needed to go away, to leave them alone. But instead he responded with a "yessir", and the man walked past him towards the house. After a slight hesitation Bobby followed the man inside.

Inside Bobby's mother sat at the kitchen table, stroking Buster as he stared forward with his pink, misshapen eyes. A string of drool hung from his jaw, and his red tongue produded slightly from his panting mouth. Under the table lay Marmaduke, with her healthy puppies crawling around her and nipping playfully with each other. Upon hearing the footsteps Marmaduke lifted her head and stared at the man with her sad eyes. She then briefly looked up at Buster before laying her head back on the wooden floor. The man regarded all of this for a minute or so and then said, "I reckon you'd better just give him to me Ms. Langstone, waiting is only going to make things harder on everyone." Bobby's mother listened to these words and then looked down at Buster in her lap. She continued to pet him for a few more seconds, then sobbed softly and held him out for the man to take. "No mamma!" Bobby screamed, "It's not right, we can keep him." The man turned to Bobby, put his arm on his shoulder and said, "Son, it's for the best, he wasn't born right, and his life will only be filled with pain, this is the most humane thing to do for him." He then took Buster from the woman's trembling arms and turned to go outside. "Can... can... I at least walk with you to the river, mister?" asked Bobby, as his mother continued sobbing. The man regarded him for a moment with his penetrating eyes and nodded, "This may be something you ought to see." The man then turned and walked out the door and began walking down towards the river, Bobby right behind him.

Douglas Buford was the man from town that was called whenever death needed to be dealt out. Douglas accepted this and to some extent, welcomed it. He took no pleasure in his work, and no one hated him for what he did. After all, they called him. He handled the tasks that were needed to be performed to keep the cycle going. To some who were suffering, Peace and Death were one and the same.

"Bobby, you know this has to be done" he said softly as they arrived at the river. "Buster wasn't born right, he was born a runt, this will end his pain." Bobby looked at little Buster, panting softly from the heat. 'But I wanted to play with him... we were going to be friends...." Bobby's voice trailed off, as he began to weep. Douglas patted Buster one last time, put him in the burlap sack he was carrying, and tied it up with some rope he had in his pocket. He then tossed the sack into the river and watched as it was carried away and sank under the churning water.

He then placed his arm around the crying boy as they slowly walked back to the house beneath the darkening sky. "I know you loved Buster, Bobby" he said, trying to comfort the boy. "He just didn't come out right, maybe one day your mom will remarry and you will have another brother."