For such a large human being, it took hours to find Erick. When he wanted to hide, the giant ginger had ways of disappearing into the ramshackle. Bray had pretty much given up on finding the guy when he heard a soft sound from the attic. A soft, barely audible sniffle. Like a child in time out, being as quiet as possible. Climbing the ladder, Bray spotted him as soon as he entered the cramped, dark area. Erick was surrounded by dolls. Her dolls. After her death Bray couldn't stand the sight of her porcelain children, with their cold dark eyes. They were judging him silently. Blaming him for letting the life fade from her.
"You know you're not supposed to be here." Bray chided, taking careful measures to avoid looking at the mirror that once stood beside her bed.
Erick's sniffles quieted momentarily before he began openly weeping. "I didn't mean to!" He protested.
Bray kneeled at Erick's feet and big man opened his hands, presenting to Bray the small body within them.
"I was just trying to help!" He protested, stopping to caress the broken body. Bray recognized the raven. Luke had tended to the wounded bird for weeks, trying to nurse it back to health while it's injured wing mended itself. The ginger held his hands open to Bray, as if the younger man could restore life to the creature.
Bray sighed deeply, laying his hands in Erick's open palms. Lives were rarely spared by Bray's large hands, and certainly never restored. His hands were shaped for bringing death. She had told him that herself one night as she examined his broad palms in the flickering light of the kerosene lamp.
"I didn't mean to kill it!" Erick protested as tears rolled down his face once again. Bray quieted his sobs, making soft tut-tut noises under his breath as he dug around the attic. He found an old shoe box and lined it with a small burlap sack before taking the bird from Erick gently to place inside.
"Tomorrow, we'll bury it." Bray suggested quietly.
"Luke will be angry with me. I didn't mean to hurt it!"
"No he won't." Bray soothed, resting the cool leather of his gloved hand against the bigger man's back. "You forget your own strength my boy, that's all."
Years before Bray had spotted the large man for the first time, repeating the same line.
"I didn't mean it! I swear!" The ginger had fretted, wringing his hands in anxiety. A child sat cowered in a corner facing Erick, her little face caked with dirt and tears as she hugged her knees to her chest.
"I didn't mean to kill him." Erick whined. "I just wanted him to stop."
The town deputy lie in a pool of blood between Erick and the little girl with his dead eyes staring off into space. "I just wanted to stop him." The big man sniffled, hugging himself tightly. "They'll kill me for this."
Bray shook his head lightly before approaching the little girl slowly and crouching down to her level. "It's okay sweetie. It's all over now. The bad man is dead." Her eyes left his face and darted back to the dead man, causing a shiver to pass over her. "He'll never bother you again." Erick and the broken shovel handle lying at his feet had guaranteed that. Erick had swung the shovel so hard the handle had broken in half against the back of the man's head, swiftly ending his wretched life.
"Come on darlin. It's okay." Bray whispered, reaching a hand out to her. "You can go on home now. It's over."
She stared into his blue eyes several minutes before finally accepting his hand. Upon standing she tried her best to smooth out her ripped and dirty dress, tearing at the place in Bray's chest that housed what was left of his heart.
"Let your Momma know what happened, okay? And tell them where to find officer Montgomery here. Tell them what he tried to do to you, and how the big ginger man saved you. Alright?" She nodded slowly, her eyes on the corpse again.
"Go one home honey. He's dead." Bray urged. "I'm going to get Mr. Erick out of here so he can be safe too." With the mention of his name, the little girl made her way over to the giant ginger. Without a word she wrapped her little arms around his upper arm in a clear gesture of thank you. And with one last glance at Bray, she started walking back into town.
"C'mon brother Erick. Let us go to your new home."
The next day Bray arranged some wild flowers in the shoe box, laying the small bird to lay in it's final nest. Luke held no grudge against Erick. He never did. In fact he dug the hole in the back yard, out under the shade tree. Near the hole he had dug for her. And the boys let Erick lay his feathered friend to rest amongst the roots of the old tree.
Late in the evening after Erick had returned to his normal activities, Bray stood in the shadow of that old tree. His hands clasped behind his back, he watched fireflies dance in the oncoming night air.
Luke watched on from the kitchen window, watched the wheels spin in Bray's head and remembered the blood on their hands. All three of them. Innocent or otherwise. The blood would always wash away, but the sin lingered on the soul forever. And every night Bray's hands would writhe at the memory of Abigail's blood on his hands.