{"id":2140,"date":"2025-06-01T13:06:37","date_gmt":"2025-06-01T17:06:37","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/?p=2140"},"modified":"2026-10-07T18:43:00","modified_gmt":"2026-10-07T22:43:00","slug":"mister","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/2025\/06\/01\/mister\/","title":{"rendered":"Mister"},"content":{"rendered":"

I don\u2019t remember life without her.\u00a0\u00a0 Auntie was always there until, of course, I shot her.\u00a0 I was 18.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The gun?\u00a0 It was hers.\u00a0 She kept two, a shot gun her son used to hunt deer with and the little handgun that she used to put away \u2018destructive raccoons.\u2019<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I spent a lot of time with her when I was a kid.\u00a0 Every other weekend and we would go to Saturday evening Mass.\u00a0 She had a big yard.\u00a0 Big.\u00a0 Her son tried to help, but he worked a lot.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I loved working in that yard with her; we laughed, pulled weeds and drank homemade lemonade.\u00a0 She taught me how to mow and trim and take care of trees and bushes and such.\u00a0 It was a great yard to play in, and she would allow my Scout troupe out to have campfires, make walking sticks, and do Scout things.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Shoot her?\u00a0 Why?\u00a0 Well, at the time, it just seemed a relief.\u00a0 I needed money.\u00a0 She gave me what she had and then she cried.\u00a0 The tears made me angry.\u00a0 I knew where she kept the gun, so I went and got it.\u00a0 Surprisingly, she had not moved.\u00a0 When I came back with the gun, it was like she was waiting for me.\u00a0 I saw red.\u00a0 Not saying a thing, raised the gun and put two bullets in her; in her chest.\u00a0 She slumped over and started coughing blood, making a mess.\u00a0 I leaned over to look at her face, all purple with pain and our eyes locked.\u00a0 I knew she was dying, and so did she.\u00a0 Her eyes brightened for just a minute and through the gurgling she said, \u2018I love you, little mister. Try and be good.\u2019<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I felt nothing.\u00a0 She was dead.\u00a0 It was still broad daylight and, I wondered who would find her.\u00a0 Probably her son.\u00a0 That\u2019s what happened.\u00a0 I don\u2019t know, but I\u2019m sure that scene was bad, very bad because I know he loved his mother.\u00a0 But I wasn\u2019t thinking about that.\u00a0 Making sure I left nothing, especially the gun, I ran.\u00a0 I kept driving west until I ran out of gas-just before Iowa.\u00a0 Ditching the car in a busy Wal-Mart parking lot and put the gun in the big trash bins out the back of the store.\u00a0 I cut across a dry-looking cornfield with all her money still in my pocket and walked for days.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Water wasn\u2019t a problem.\u00a0 I could grab that from a water hose in someone\u2019s backyard. Food was an issue, but as it was still warm weather, the dumpsters behind local restaurants weren\u2019t bad.\u00a0 I did okay until Idaho.\u00a0 I was thinner, dirtier, and sleepless.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI love you, little mister. Try and be good.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I went to a local parish church in a town in Idaho.\u00a0 I wouldn\u2019t or rather couldn\u2019t go in, so I waited until a priest came out.\u00a0\u00a0 What looked like the secretary came out, sniffed the air, saw me and did an about face. I smelled terrible, so didn\u2019t blame her for scuttling off.\u00a0 The priest came out, looking weary and frightened.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He was kind enough.\u00a0 I told him I was a vagrant; I had a little money in my pocket. Where could I get a shower and some new clothes?\u00a0 He led me to the school gym and then through to the locker room.\u00a0 The boy\u2019s locker room had a larger shower room with several shower heads coming out of the wall.\u00a0 It reminded me of the local jail.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cTurn on a couple of those shower heads, young man, and stay under them for as long as you can stand it.\u201d\u00a0 I had to laugh, but the priest was stoic.\u00a0 I took out my aunt\u2019s wad of money, stripped out of the ruined clothes on my back and watched the mud and dirt flow into the big drain in the middle of the shower room of Catholic athletes.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBe good, little mister, I love you.\u201d\u00a0 She always said it when I left on a Sunday evening.\u00a0 My life wasn\u2019t horrible… well, maybe it was.\u00a0 My family did not like me.\u00a0 I told that to Auntie once, and she agreed.\u00a0 \u201cBut not to worry, I love you.\u00a0 And remember, I\u2019m not well liked either.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The shower was turning cold, and I welcomed it.\u00a0 As the warm water faded and the cold water took over, the pelting seemed to worsen and hurt.\u00a0 Again, I welcomed it.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s a scourging?\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s like a whipping. Only a scourging will take the skin off your back. \u201c<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy did they scourge Him?\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThey didn\u2019t like Him.\u00a0 He told the truth and nobody likes that.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMom tells me I\u2019m to be polite, but don\u2019t go religious because it will only disappoint me.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOf course it disappoints. Our faith demands we don\u2019t sin, and we want to sin.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAuntie, Do you like working in the yard?\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNot particularly, but I like the results.\u201d\u00a0 And she looked over at me and smiled. \u201cAnd yes, religion is like that. We like the results.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Blackness.\u00a0 Total blackness.\u00a0 I woke up with ice cold water pelting in my face and a weary priest trying to drag me out of the shower.\u00a0 He wrapped me in towels and mopped up the mess while I watched him.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAre you going to call the police?\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOnly if you don\u2019t agree to confession.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not Catholic.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSomeone in your life was.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s dead.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m giving you five minutes to get dressed and come to the church for confession.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Yes, I confessed I murdered her.\u00a0 Murder.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It is a quiet life now.\u00a0 I write to her son, but there is no reply.\u00a0 The priest says I should stop, that I probably cause him pain.\u00a0 But I don\u2019t.\u00a0 I write to tell him I\u2019m trying to be a good boy now and even cry once in a while.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I don\u2019t remember life without her.\u00a0\u00a0 Auntie was always there until, of course, I shot her.\u00a0 I was 18.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The gun?\u00a0 It was hers.\u00a0 She kept two, a shot gun her son used to hunt deer with and the little handgun that she used to put away \u2018destructive raccoons.\u2019\u00a0 I …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2178,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[43,3,19],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2140","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-horror","category-short-fiction","category-writing"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"amp_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/lydiaink.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/06\/Mister-Pic.png?fit=1536%2C1024&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2140","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2140"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2140\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2180,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2140\/revisions\/2180"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2178"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2140"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2140"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2140"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}