Cut and Paste

A surprising tale of murder.

 

Cut and Paste

 

            “I triple dog dare you to knock on the door!” screamed Dylan to Cody. Last week Cody wimped out of one of Dylan’s dares, so today he had something to prove. Advancing on the crumbling walkway Cody began to muster up some strength. It was said around the playground that the old Ragborne house had been abandoned for years, and every kid in Cobourg knew its story. Mr. Ragborne passed away shortly after the birth of his son. Mrs. Ragborne began to go crazy. It was common knowledge that she began to beat her son in the years after her husband’s death. One night, the boy angered her a little too much and she set him straight, straight to the ground to be with his father. That night occurred twenty years ago when the mother was rumoured to have fled town. There were no investigations; police had better things to do with their time then to give merit to schoolyard rumours.

            “Go on Cody,” Dylan urged, “unless you’re chicken!” He began to flap his arms and squawk at Cody.

            “Alright already!” Cody stepped further up the Ragborne walkway. The weeds growing between the concrete slabs acted as speed bumps for Cody’s small feet. Adrenaline built up and choked his throat as Cody began to walk faster. Nearing the porch, he imagined that he saw the curtains pulled shut. Dylan; who was only a few short feet away at first glance, seemed to be moving further and further away from Cody, though his menacing laugh rang out in Cody’s ear as if Dylan were right beside him. Wanting nothing more than to get the dare over and done with, Cody ran up the stairs which seemed to scream under his weight and stood in front of the door. As Cody stepped onto the worn-out Welcome mat he was certain that he heard movement on the other side of the door. Swallowing hard he made his hand obey him and he knocked on the door. Once. Twice. Three times. This was easy; nothing to it! Cody began to laugh.

            “See, I'm no chicken!” He called to Dylan who was leaning against the gate; fists secured around two poles so tightly that his knuckles were white.

            “RUN!” Dylan yelled to Cody with owl’s eyes. “Run Cody!” Looking behind him, Cody’s jaw dropped in horror. There stood Billy Ragborne, hair set with grease in a black disarray. He was drooling from his mouth and his brown eyes looked Cody over. He would have been a tall man, except that he was hunched over.

            “Play?” Was all he said. His foul breath poured over his crusted lips, the stench brought Cody back to reality: he ran. Nearly falling on his way through the gate Cody began to scream for help.

            “No... play,” Billy said quietly to himself, saddened eyes dropping to the porch. He tucked himself back inside the door and pulled it shut.

***

            “Sharon Matthews, report to Mr. Whittaker’s office, that’s Sharon Matthews, thank you.” Sharon heard her name being called over the P.A system and sighed. She was on break and again Whittaker was going to bother her. Closing her copy of Bridal Bliss Magazine, she picked up her coffee and began the short walk to his office. With her free hand, Sharon tucked a loose curl behind her ear; the rest of her mahogany hair was pinned up in a bun on the back of her head. She was a thin woman, but tall with wide hips.

            “Always good to see you so cheery, Sharon,” Whittaker said with light sarcasm.

            “Always ecstatic when you call for me on my break, sir,” she replied with a sly smile. “So what case are you assigning me to this time?”

            “You’ll be investigating the case of a one Billy Ragborne. He was found alone in his house by some young pranksters who were given quite a start. Apparently Ragborne’s house is a dump. He seems to be suffering from some mental problems as well. I believe you are the most qualified social worker to assess this case. Find out if Ragborne is fit to live on his own.”

 

The next morning Sharon made the car ride to the Ragborne’s address. It astonished her how much the house had deteriorated and how much smaller it looked to her now that she was grown. When she knocked on the front door all she heard was silence. She knocked again.

            “Hello? Billy?” Sharon called through the door. In a matter of seconds she got her response. Billy opened the door and looked her over.

            “Billy Ragborne? Hi, I’m Sharon Matthews, the social worker assigned to your case. I’ll be spending the next few days with you.” Her gentle smile easily won over Billy’s trust and he led her through the front door.

            The interior of the small house was dark and dusty. Toys were scattered across carpeting that looked like it hadn’t been vacuumed in years. The putrid stench of garbage filled Sharon’s nostrils and made her take a step back. While Billy sat on the living room floor pushing a toy truck, Sharon did a walkthrough of the house, taking notes on the unsanitary conditions of each room. She opened a closet door and found the source of the smell. Six or seven garbage bags filled the small closet. The smell that came from it had Sharon gagging. She quickly closed the door and joined Billy in the living room.

            “Mama used to say that I couldn’t play with others, but can we play now? I know Mama won’t mind.” Billy said as he handed her a Barbie doll, while he held on to a toy soldier.

            “These are nice, Billy.” Sharon lied. The Barbie had cut hair and was missing a hand and a leg.

“Barbie is bad. She’s mean to the soldier. She must be punished.” Billy grunted as he hit the Barbie with his soldier. Sharon felt a chill creep up her spine.

            “But Billy, Barbie doesn’t have to be mean.” She moved the doll so that she and the soldier appeared to be holding hands. “See? They can be friends.”

            To this Billy smiled, as if this idea had never occurred to him. Friendship was not a concept which Billy easily understood. He sat on the shag rug and played nicely with the two dolls, making them take car rides in his yellow toy truck. While he was occupied, Sharon went around opening the blinds and windows, hoping that the breeze would remove the rotting smell. Putting on a pair of rubber gloves, she heaved the heavy garbage bags from the closet into a bin, fighting the urge to puke. She pushed the bin to the outside curb and left it for the city to pick up. A sort of brown liquid was seeping from the bags. Sharon assumed it was rotting food, left for years to decay. She walked back into the house and noticed a phone on the hallway table; its buttons were caked with dust.

            When Sharon walked into the kitchen she was surprised to see a fridge full of food. She called Billy in and questioned where the food came from.

            “My Mama,” was all that Billy would say.

            “Where does your mother live?” Sharon pressed on.

            He paused before answering. “She used to live here, but she doesn’t anymore.”

            “Why did she go?”

            “Mama said I was bad; she had to punish me. Mama said that her cigarettes weren’t hot enough to burn me properly, so she cut me to leave marks.” He spoke to the floor.

            Sharon was deeply disturbed by his answer. Though she had dealt with it for years, the concept of a mother abusing her child still disgusted her. “Where is your mother now, Billy?”

            “I can’t tell you!” Billy snickered to himself.

 “Okay, well I have to go file some papers now. We’ll talk more tomorrow.” She smiled at him and reached out to pat his head. He jerked back violently from her hand. “Billy, I won’t hurt you. Just like Barbie; nice touches.”  Billy looked at her cautiously and brought his hand up to hers. Sharon squeezed it gently before gathering her notes and leaving.

            Billy watched her turn away. When she was gone he cradled his hand and began to think. Sharon’s touch was his first good touch from a woman. His mother never hugged him; never loved him. He knew Sharon was special. Her small act of kindness was so foreign to Billy that it was all he could think about. He told himself that her touch must mean something; she must love him. Billy sat quietly in his chair, and then whispered, “I love you, Sharon.”

            When Sharon arrived at her office, she reread her notes on Billy before heading home for the night:

White male, aged 25-30, approximately 200 pounds. He seems to have the mentality of a 7-9 year old. Lives alone in unsanitary conditions. Seems to be able to dress and feed himself. Billy stated that his mother buys the groceries. He seems to crave social interaction. Further investigation is needed to ensure that he can care for himself on his own.

           

            The next day Billy had bathed and put on his favourite shirt, anticipating Sharon’s arrival. He even darted his toothbrush in and out of his mouth in an attempt to brush his plaque covered teeth. He sat in front of the window which looked out on the street, hugging the beaten-up Barbie, waiting to see Sharon’s white car. Instead, a black car pulled up to the house and a dark haired man got out to open the passenger door. Sharon stepped out, smiling up at the tall man. He made her drop her notebooks when he pulled her in for a deep kiss. Billy’s heart stopped. His blood ran hot through his veins and he closed his eyes in rage, chest heaving. When he opened them the car was gone and Sharon was at the door. He opened it for her and trudged to the couch, sulking.

            “Good morning, Billy,” Sharon said in a cheerful voice as she joined Billy on the couch. “Today we can do whatever you want to.”

            Billy filled with hope at her words, and took her hand in his. “I love you.”

            Sharon smiled easily, “Aw, I love you too, Billy.”

To Billy’s delight they spent the whole day together, playing and talking. This was the happiest day in Billy’s life and he never wanted it to end. When evening came, a sudden knock on the door silenced Sharon’s shrill laughter. “I’ll get it Billy,” she said before getting up and opening the door. Billy poked his head around the corner and saw the same man from earlier that day, now hugging Sharon.

            “Who are you?” Billy shouted from down the hall.

            “Howdy. My name’s Adam; I’m Sharon’s fiancée. She’s told me a lot about you, I hope you don’t mind that I came by. I brought Chinese food for dinner, and then I have to take Sharon home with me.”

            “That’s really sweet, Adam. Wasn’t it Billy? I’ll just get out some plates.” Sharon took the bags of food with her to the kitchen.

            “Does ‘fiancée’ mean that you are marrying Sharon?” Billy asked with searing eyes.

            “Why yes it does. I’m a lucky man.” Adam answered while slipping off his coat.

            “But I love Sharon, and she loves me!” Billy yelled loudly, causing Sharon to walk back to them.

            “There are different kinds of love, Billy.” Sharon spoke softly, but Billy was heaving now. He ran into the kitchen and grabbed the meat mallet, walking slowly towards Adam.

            “Easy there, Billy. Put that down.” Adam urged as he backed towards the door.

            “I love her!” Billy screamed as he hit Adam repeatedly over the head with the mallet. Sharon screamed for help as she jumped on Billy’s back, trying to pull him away from Adam who was collapsed on the floor. When Billy stopped he looked at Sharon with hungry eyes. Running to the hall phone Sharon dialled 9-1-1 but couldn’t speak into the receiver. Billy had tackled her body to the ground, breaking her ankle.

            “Billy, why are you doing this?” Sharon cried as she squirmed under Billy’s heavy body.

            “You’ve been bad, just like Mama. You need to be punished, too.” He raised the mallet to swing at Sharon.

            “Wait!” She begged as she scrunched her body into the corner. “How did you punish your mother, Billy?”

            “I cut her up, like she cut me, and put her in the closet.” Billy’s wild smile sent shivers through Sharon’s body. She remembered the rotting garbage bags and the liquid seeping from them. She couldn’t help it, she vomited on herself and Billy before her eyes closed and her mind stopped working.