Page 49 of Homecoming: The Devil's Society

The day rolled on as normal and then carried into the next. I hadn’t heard more about his super spy mission, but I presumed it was still active as he was missing from bed for a second night. But at least he was speaking.

Then today happened.

I’m leaning over the large kitchen island, drinking a hot cup of green tea. Rogers just brought over the photo albums from E’s old bedroom. I am about to start looking through them when the man himself comes bursting in through the front door, slamming it hard behind him.

As he walks past me to the back door, over his shoulder is a dark circular fence post, maybe four feet long. In his other hand, a sledgehammer.

“Um, E… What are you doing?” I ask curiously.

“Pigs.” His response is quick as he continues to move through the house. My eyes widen in shock, unsure what to make of his statement.

Taking a sip of tea, I continue with a follow-up question, “What pigs?”

“We have six coming in, in a couple hours and I need to build their fence,” he tells me as he stops before the back door, turning around.

“Well, okay. Have fun.” I try to sound as excited as I can without offending him with my confusion, knowing he is clearly still in a very fragile state.

This continues for an hour, with him going through the house with more posts and chicken wire fencing.

On his last trip through, all he had was a nail gun. I decide I am done asking questions for the day. But he decides to shed some light on the situation himself. “I read that babies are needy little assholes. That thing growing in you for the next however long would prefer to know both parents, if possible. So, pigs. They will help dispose of the bodies when it arrives. Thus,itwill know both of us. But I will never hide who I am fromit. Ifitshould ask what pigs eat, I will say bodies. I also read they can be a lot of fucking work. Do you know how often they shit? So yes, pigs. They will help free up some of my time to help.”

My eyes want to cry from happiness. My mouth wants to laugh at the insanity of this entire declaration. But most of all, my heart wants to burst from how much I love this fucking man.

Pigs.

I can tell we aren’t fully comfortable with the news yet, it seems. But he is speaking, he is building, and he is planning for the future with fucking pigs.

“Did you know you can grow mushrooms off people?”

His comment throws me off guard. Is my poor baby E having a nervous breakdown? Are we becoming mushroom farmers?

“You will never guess who my dad keeps having over.”

My interest is piqued. “Well, don’t leave me hanging!” I say eagerly. I’ve also been dying to know. I think it’s the same person I saw there last time we were over, it has to be.

“Greta’s granddaughter.”

My mouth drops in shock. I have so many questions. Greta was married? She has kids and grandbabies? I’ve met the woman once and became instantly fascinated.

Before any words can escape me, E continues, “I have plans, little bat. Big fucking plans. If he is going to be parading that girl around the grounds of the house and think I wouldn’t notice, he is in for a shock when I am this block’s fucking welcoming committee!”

The End.