Chapter 2

The door to the cabin swung wide, slamming into the side of the house. A loud bang echoed throughout causing Merle to leap out of bed grabbing the small basket that held the now awake infant and holding it close to his body. Merle knew that sound and he knew it well. His father had not been home in near a weeks' time. Didn't even know his youngest son had entered the world. Hell, the baby didn't even have a name yet. His mother only referred to the baby as the Bastard. The sound started then, the slight squeak the child made as it started to awaken, squeaks give way to whimpers, whimpers to cries and cries to shrill screams when the child was once again denied milk by its mother's breast. Merle tried hard, cajoling his mother to feed the baby, begging, bringing her food and drinks, cigarettes and those little blue pills. She would only give in after several hours of his pleading. The baby would drink hungrily, hardly satisfied before his mother would rip the child from her breast and nearly throw it at his brother who stood watch, always hoping to catch the baby when his mother tired of it. His mother would curse and spit towards the brother's calling them both a litany of names, none of which were the name given them at birth.

Merle's father's boots echoed on the wood floors. "Damnit, this house is a fucking pigsty. Why the hell is there no fucking beer in the fridge. I work too damn hard to get home to this piece of shit cabin with a bunch of lazy, worthless assholes…." His father trailed off as he noticed the basket and saw the tiny arm waving around working towards one of those shrill shrieks that would soon echo along with his father's angry words.

"You had it did ya? Well what is it boy?" Merle looked at his father with the basket still tight to his chest. "It's a boy."

"Better be. Don't need another sissy running around here. Maybe this one will make me proud." His father scowled at Merle and the child in the basket. "It healthy?" His father asked, not offering to take the basket or lift his son to his chest. "Seems to be. Got a set of lungs on him." "Well, keep him quiet. I ain't slept in days. I been too busy worrying about trying to not get myself shot by these robbing bastards on the highway. Found me some work up near Linton. Got a pocket full of cash to show for it."

Merle smiled then. If his father found work, then food would show up in the cabinets and the hollow feeling in his stomach would for a short while feel less so. He could get the baby some of that powder from the store with the picture of the baby on it. At least he thought that is what the baby might eat if he couldn't have the real thing. His mother's voice rang out then.

"Bring him over Merle, he needs to eat now." She said in a sing song voice she used when she wanted to sound sweet and innocent in front of his father. She wanted his money, she would treat him well, treat her baby well until she got what she wanted. "You would think this boy gave birth to this baby; he will hardly let loose of him." She smiled and took the baby in her arms then, gently guiding it to her breast.

His father watched with a smile, made a comment about the size of his mother's breast and reached out for one. This always made Merle feel uneasy inside, the sight of his parents like this. They were not shy about displaying sexual behavior in front of their son, many times he would come in from outside and they would be engaged with each other on the small living room couch, looking at him as he walked in, but not stopping what they were doing. Merle wasn't sure what to do with himself now, he wanted to stay close for when his mother threw the baby off her breast, but wanted to go far away from the sexual display that would surely happen between his parents. He didn't have to make a decision after all. His father removed the child from his mother's breast, bending down to take its place. Merle cradled the baby and turned quickly, making his way out of the bedroom and back to his own. That is when he saw it. His father's coat, laying on the floor in front of the door. Merle made his way quickly to the coat, grabbed a five-dollar bill out of the pocket, hoping his father wouldn't notice and with the child tucked close to his chest left the small cabin in the woods.

He walked through the woods to the main road, though it was nighttime and the little store in town would be closed, he thought it best to wait there until the store opened. With the baby still hungry, neither of them would get any sleep anyway. With his father home, it would be safe to take their chances in the trees.

Merle sat with his brother under a weeping willow, leaned against its trunk and hidden away behind its willow branches. "Alright little brother now, don't be making too much noise. I need you to listen now. You were better off dying in Ma's belly than being born to us. It ain't gonna be easy for you to make it. I'll do my best to protect you, but I can't save you brother. You got to save yourself. Hope you are smart, and you learn quick. If not, you will wish you had." Not knowing what else to do to stop the child's whimpers that would soon turn to screams he found the leaves on the trees wet with dew. Carefully he folded the leaf into a small straw and dripped the water into his little brother's mouth, stilling his cries if only for a moment. The infant's mouth would move, his lips forming a small o, his tongue manipulating the droplets until the water melted down the child's throat. And so, it was as the sun rose from behind the tree's, that the brothers sat beneath the willow's each finding comfort in the other.