July 22 09

Death, doesn’t really have a scent, like you think it would. You automatically wrinkle your nose and take short quick breaths so as not to inhale the fowl smell that you’re expecting. But it’s more like a fog. You walk closer to the body and the air gets thicker and so heavy, not like water, but a thickness that feels lung crushing. Makes you tired and sick and overheats you. I know I’m only talking about a dead sheep here, but the sight is appalling. A dead anything. She was covered in mud from the heavy rain from the night before and her eyes were completely grey. Grabbing her stiff legs made me gag. Such an unnatural feeling.
My mother had the front legs and I had the back, we lifted her up and drug her out of the pen. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her bloody head dragging in the dirt, her neck bent backwards in a U. “SLOW DOWN PLEASE!” I snapped. My mother had picked up a quick shuffling pace making it difficult for me to not trip over the awkward body. “Kay one , two, three!” my mother grunted. We swung her up onto the bed of the truck. I showed my mom her bloody head where Edward had got her. “I told you.” I said.
Now away from the body, in the truck, I could breathe better. I relaxed and enjoyed the ride of the little red ford ranger. Driving up towards the dump, we chatted like we weren’t carrying a dead, jiggling sheep corpse in the back of our truck. In fact, I actually enjoyed the ride with my mom. We were both in a decent mood and I relayed to her about the night before.
“I ran out there and Gromit had Edward pinned on the ground”
“How’d you get them apart?”
“I was looking for something to beat them apart with but I was afraid if I ran off to get something one of them would get killed. You know those weird pauses dogs do when fighting or playing? Like, ‘fight fight fight-stare you down-agh! Fight fight fight!’. They did that a few times and I kicked Gromit away and started to get Edward, but Gromit went for him again, and I had to kick him away again , I finally got Edward in the cage, and you know, put Gromit up. Gidget was just, (I stared out of the car like a frightened deer to get the visual across. My mom laughed.) ‘Oh god! I’ll just-uhh, go sit in my house.’”
We continued chatting, and then singing along to Raffi’s ‘Banana phone’ song. Right in the midst of my solo, “God DAMN IT!” Snapped out of my performance she pulls up along side the dump entrance. It’s locked. I look at her, she looks at me. We both give a twisted grin. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” I ask. My mother answers by licking her smiling teeth and turns the truck around. A jolt of electricity races through my heart. We were baaad people.
My mother chooses the first dirt road you see when driving to the dump. We didn’t drive very far before we saw a couch and a whole bunch of other trash. “ I like that couch.” I commented. She steers the truck into a dip with a three way fork. We look to the left, there are several deep dips in the path, perfect for fourwheeling. We look in front of us, and see a huge hill. We don’t even consider the third option, but stare up at the hill. “Should I?”
“Whatever you want. Pull a William. He’ll be proud of you.” I say as I brace myself in my seat.
She drives forward but turns up onto the left hill. The truck bounces violently. “With any luck she’ll just fall out of the back of the truck.”
“Yeah actually,” she laughed, “ I was hoping for that.”
As this was all happening, the Little mermaid’s ‘Under the sea’ was playing, one of my mother’s favorite Disney songs. She parks the car and hops out, not before turning up the volume of the insanely happy music. Steel drums pound as my mom skipps smiling to the back of the truck. She’s nuts, I thought to myself, this is horrible. She motions me to come help. I climbed out of the truck hesitantly, by the side I whined “Can we turn that music off?” She laughs hysterically, and I couldn’t help myself so I laughed along. The scene was to fictional to be really happening to me. I got the front this time, lucky me, we grip hard, “Okay we’re just gonna’ throw her in the bushes, ready?” I observe that there was only one, maybe two flimsy creosote bushes where she was assumed to land. I nod. “One, two-three!” I heave and flung my half of the body-“We got no troubles, Life is the bubbles, Under the sea! Under the sea! Since life is sweet here, We got the beat here, Naturally! Even the sturgeon an' the ray, They get the urge 'n' start to play, We got the spirit, You got to hear it, Under the sea!”- I hear her bloated body splutch onto the dirt, and hurry inside the truck. Both inside we’re laughing, illegal sheep dumping, Disney singin’ lunatics.