“Virgil, will you cut that racket down boy!”

Thomas hated it when his son took to using that hammer on his on the walls. He knew the boy couldn’t help it, but that noise got on his nerves. His son was born special and all Thomas could do was allow the boy certain little habits to keep him content. Last month, it was an old noise maker from his sister’s birthday party. He blew on that thing day and night. That almost drove Thomas to leave the house entirely.  And when he threatened to take it away from the boy, his wife would just reprimand him over and over. “Now, Thomas–you know Virgil has to have something to pass the time. He never leaves that room you know.” Virgil had the mind of a child although he was physically 18 years old and he was a hand full for the family. Patricia seemed to always keep Thomas busy with all the little tasks that needed to be completed to keep Virgil happy. No chocolate, do not touch his tummy–oh and please, under no circumstances go in Thomas’  room without knocking…these were rules that Thomas had to remember at all costs. Patricia had a much better memory, so Thomas left the details to her.

 Patricia, Thomas’ wife, was a plump pain in the ass but he loved her. He held a respect for her since she had given him one good child. Yes, Tabitha was a good one. Tabitha was the smart one too–yes, she was right in the head and that made up for Virgil. She was something of an artist too.  Her fifteen year old brain could really get creative at times. She was even good with her big brother and helped him finger paint and make little paper animals and such. Thomas didn’t really understand all that artist goobledy gook but he liked the fact that his daughter took up some of the slack in taking care of Virgil.

But he had no favorites. Oh, he loved Virgil–that he did,  but sometimes Thomas wanted to just leave it all behind and run off. There was so much to remember and all that damn banging and jabbering the boy did was enough to drive him mad. Thomas was tired and just wanted to find a way to get some rest. His job was draining him, his wife was nagging constantly and then there was Virgil with his noisy toys.

But Thomas never thought it could get worse. No, never could his life become any more complicated than it already was. That is what he thought.

Thomas was reading the newspaper after pulling his work boots off and settling into his recliner. Patricia had just finished nagging him about all the mud on her already filthy floor, when he heard a strange noise coming from Virgil’s room. It wasn’t a loud banging or screams. Thomas folded his paper and rose to listen closer to the strange whimpers he heard in the next room. Patricia stared at Thomas in confusion.

“Thomas, what is that noise hon?” Patricia stopped setting the table and looked toward Virgil’s room. “I think you should go check on him.”

Thomas stared at his wife with a look of dread. “why do I always have to go?” But Thomas recognized his wife’s visual threat and walked tentatively down the hall. As he reached to grab the door knob, he exhaled. Thomas felt a for-boding feeling take hold of him and send chills down his back. His thoughts fleetingly went to his daughter as he turned the nob. He looked back toward his wife and yelled.

“Have you seen Tabitha since school let out?”

As Thomas turned toward Virgil’s open door, what he saw didn’t quite register with him at first. Thomas was confused by what he saw; seeing as shock was funny like that.

Virgil sat on the floor by his bed, with a dirty magazine spread out before him. His left hand was hard at work on his manhood while red splotches continued to splatter across the magazine page. His right hand continued to  pummel his dead sister’s head with his familiar toy, an old roofing hammer. Paper animals were clutched in his sister’s stiff hand. Virgil whimpered as drool ran down his chubby chin.