Misfits
Part Six
Kiddo.
That wasn’t accidental. Or if it was then it was a distant throwback memory. Father was the only one who ever called Shiloh that and only before, when Shiloh was Kevin. Kiddo was one of the first things to go after they had the talk.
Wendy, even unnerved, was searching for ways to regain the upper hand. Shiloh was exhausted with that game. The chewed-up arm was laid atop the corpse in the back of the van and the torn shirt bib got placed over that.
Shiloh turned to the cab of the van, looking directly at the rearview mirror, waiting for a pair of amber eyes to come into view. “I’m fourteen. I know that’s not an adult, but things need to change. We’ve lived like this for over a year now and it’s not working.”
The van stopped. Wendy turned, her mouth already forming the first words of a real barn burner speech about irresponsibility and who was still acting like a child when she came nearly face to face with Shiloh.
As if being strong enough to toss a dead man around like a rag doll wasn’t enough, add fast as a cat, and quiet like a… “Shiloh, I need you to change back, now. I need you to come up and sit next to me so we can talk.”
“I’m tired of feeling ashamed for being this way. You shouldn’t be afraid of it. I would never hurt you. I don’t even yell, I’m not the one who’s always yelling. If I change back and sit up there, you’re just going to yell at me until I cry or I get tired and agree to keep being small and stupid.”
“I’ve never called you stupid. You’re smart, but right now you’re acting like an immature brat.”
“And you’ve spent a year treating me like an immature brat. Worse, like some porcelain doll. I’m tired of it, you’re my sister, not father, he’s gone. We’re still clinging to the one way he taught us to do things. Look where that got him?”
Just like that, without thinking ahead Shiloh managed to hand the floor to Wendy. This would be where the guilt would come in. Who wanted to go after the men who killed him? Who clung so closely to all those years of careful words? Who was the one who refused to go, to help, to get revenge?
“This is the part where I’m supposed to throw it in your face, huh?”
Wendy turned away and slumped over the steering wheel. “I’m exhausted. Being the bad guy sucks. Dad knew his shit, he had answers, all I have is fear. I’m scared, all the time, Shiloh. I’m scared we’ll get caught, terrified you’ll get noticed like that. We’re both minors, I’m driving this shitty old van without a license, there’s a cut up and chewed corpse in the back. We are one missed stop sign away from getting arrested, or worse, having to kill some innocent cop.”