There was a heavy knock at the door.
“Hi, Sheriff, what can I do for you?” Jacob’s mom said loudly enough for us to hear. Jacob tucked the vodka bottle under his mattress.
They talked for a minute and Jacob’s mom came to the bedroom door. “Boys, these officers just need to ask a few questions for their report, is that OK?”
I got up and opened the door. “That’s fine,” I said. We sat in the living room, Jacob’s mom, me, and the sheriff.
“First of all, I’m so sorry to do this to you, son. You’ve been through so much.” I hate it when people call me son. Eli always called me son.
I nodded.
“You’ve probably heard your father died of a drug overdose.”
I nodded again. What are you supposed to say to that?
“I have to ask a few more questions. It’s just routine. Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt your father?”
I could think of a half dozen before he even finished his sentence. “Yeah, he is—was—pretty rough around the edges,” I said.
“Does anyone come to mind?” The sheriff looked like it was killing him to ask me that.
“Not really anyone specific, no.” They’d probably try and arrest the first person I said. Besides, like I said, it served him right.
The sheriff looked around the room like he had a question he didn’t want to ask. “He had a farm hand, right?”
“Yeah.”
“How did he treat the farm hand?”
“Same way he treated all of us I guess. Decent enough unless he was angry.”
“Do you think this farm hand was angry?”
“His name is Santos.”
He rolled his eyes. “Do you think Santos was angry at your dad, then?”
“Could be. Eli beat the living shit out of him.” I didn’t want them to think Santos killed Eli but I didn’t know what to think at this point. He said he knew how to kill someone and make it look like an accident.
“Where was Santos last night?”
“We all slept here. Jacob wanted to hang out.”
“Were you with Santos all night?”
“I think so, yeah.”
“You think so?” He sat up in his chair.
“Well…”
“You can tell me anything, son.” Stupid cop.
“Eli was treating us like shit so we had a little bit to drink,” I said. “Just a little. We thought it’d make us feel better and it didn’t and we’ll never do it again.” I was talking really fast. I think I repeated the word “sorry” a few times too.
He sighed. “Look, you’re just kids. It’s fine. I get it." Turns out when your dad dies nobody cares if you drink. “Could the farm hand have snuck out while you were drunk?”
“Probably not, I dunno. You could ask him. His English is pretty good.”
He said that was all his questions, and could I go get Jacob. I went back to the bedroom.
The cop probably asked Jacob all the same things while I sat there with Santos. We just sat quietly. I wonder what he was thinking. Probably that he’d get blamed just for murder just cause he’s an illegal.
Jacob came back and the sheriff asked to talk to Santos.
“English?” the sheriff shouted.
“A little,” replied Santos. Jacob closed the door.
We talked for a while about how he probably thinks Santos did it. We were relieved he didn’t care about the drinking. Jacob asked what I thought about the whole thing.
“What whole thing?” I snapped at him. That ended the conversation pretty quick.
Santos was taking a while, so Jacob peeked out his door. He swung it open and ran out to find Santos in handcuffs in the living room.
“What the fuck?” Jacob shouted. His mom flashed him that look again. She really hates it when he swears in her living room.
“I’m just taking him to the station to ask some questions,” the sheriff said as he walked Santos out the door. “It’s just procedure.”
Jacob’s mom went to the kitchen and Jacob and I just sat on the couch in silence. I said I needed some air and walked out the front door. Just kept walking. I made it to Mrs. Glass’s house but I didn’t feel like talking. What would we talk about anyway? She’d just tell me to feel things and I didn’t have anything left to feel.
I couldn’t think of anywhere better to go so I sat right on the side of the road. Right under the hot sun. I’m sure I was sweaty and uncomfortable. I hadn’t showered in a couple days. Some bug bit me and I didn’t even care. I just sat there staring. Except I wasn’t really staring cause my eyes didn’t want to focus on anything. Just sat there feeling nothing at all.
People were going to try and comfort me, I thought. They’d be saying all the same things as when my mom died. When Eli made her kill herself. That almost got me feeling angry but I didn’t even feel all the way angry. Then I remembered Eli was dead and it served him right and I just sat there feeling nothing.
I must have sat there for a while cause Jacob’s mom pulled up and said it was time to go back for dinner. When we got back to their house there was already dinner on the table. I bet it was really good food but I couldn’t really taste it. It was like my brain just didn’t care anymore.