I, Norman Bates

I, Norman Bates
By: Jordan Willbanks

He was gone as soon as he saw our crime. I had seen him peering through the hedges just minutes after. There was still blood on our hands and I had not even come to grips with reality. I had actually done it! It had taken over me as if infectious and only when it was too late I did not know how great the consequence would be. I wasn’t sure if I would enjoy the money. Could my actions actually buy me the riches I had craved?
         The fact that Tom had witnessed it only made matters worse. However, I would be lying if I said that I didn’t feel horrible before I saw his small silhouette gazing upon me in the shimmering moonlight behind the hedges.
         Joe and Billy told me what needed to be done. In response I told them I would take care of it. They told me they needed to see to it that the deed was accomplished.

Mom and Dad agreed—the morning after, in complete ignorance—it would be a great experience for Tom to spend a night at the lake house with me. Dad said he was old enough. He told me that Tom needed to gain a sense of adventure considering he wouldn’t be able to take Tom that summer. Dad had recently had cardiac surgery and he was told to lay low for the summer and of course, not doing anything overly labor intensive.
         Dad lent me his truck that afternoon and Tom and I loaded the back with supplies Mom had bought us from the store earlier that day. I hadn’t told Tom that I knew I had seen him. I hadn’t even given him a whiff of that knowledge. I was surprised his attitude had not changed, but he loved me. Even if he knew that I had seen him the previous night he probably would have still been in attendance. I really wanted him to have a good night.  You can’t get me wrong. You mustn’t assume otherwise thus rendering you false facts of knowledge.

I stopped at the gas station before the long dirt road. I asked what he wanted for drinks and I gave him an offer.
         “No man, we can’t have none of that!” he laughed.
         “Why the hell not? Mom and Dad ain’t gonna be there. It’s just gonna be me and you tonight!” I said with a plastic smile.
         “Okay then, Charlie.” he said as he shook his head.
         
I came out of the gas station with a plastic sack, inside was a twelve pack of beer and two cigars. I could hear Tom laughing over the music he turned on. He bobbed involuntarily back and forth in his seat. I joined in when I sat down in my seat and tossed the sack on his lap.
         The road sure was long. We were on it for more than twenty minutes. I coasted downhill and watched the speedometer jump past thirty-five. The engine groaned and I gunned it as if to show off for me dear-little-baby-brother. We leapt over the dips of dirt, our bodies lunged forward as we struck the earth.
         I remember the scenery of the area well. Spruce trees and scattered maples surrounded us. We shared laughter and I let my finger nudge the volume knob, Cash and Jennings blaring through the seemingly uninhabited country side. I slowed at the frail wooden bridge closing in on our final destination. I could see passed the clearing in the vast stretch of conifers surrounding us. There it was. The lake house was glamorous and largely constructed, yet it seemingly was sinking into the mound of grass where it was rooted. Tom was excited and he gazed out of the passenger-side window. I looked at my reflection in the rear-view mirror, and my smile was gone. It had washed itself away instantly. I slowed and let the truck come to halt. The grit underneath the tires shifted and I let the engine die with a crisp turn of the key in the gravel and dirt driveway.
         We briskly unloaded the supplies parked in the back of the pick-up. Tom ran through the yard under the canape of foliage. We were twenty-three miles from civilization. Our parents had inherited the land from Dad’s parents after their deaths. It was in the will.
         I stood planted to the soft grassy mound, admiring black ants as they burrowed in and out of the superficial depths of the earth. I tried to ponder what was going to come my way. I rubbed my eyes and I felt my cheeks moisten. I quickly wiped them away.
         “What’s the matter?” Tom asked me, I turned and saw the boy looking up at me.
         “Oh,” I tried to think quickly about what to say. “I’m just worried about Dad is all.” I lied. I’d better get used to it, I thought, it’s something I’d have to get accustomed to. A whole life of lies was soon to follow.
         “Charlie, don’t ya worry. He’s gonna be good.” Tom beamed at me and grabbed for my sweaty palm.
         “C’mon!” I pulled it free from his grasp. “I’m not a baby no more.” I tried to play it off.

We ascended the steps of the house. As we made our entrance the screen door shut violently behind us and I gave a pathetic jump.
         “Get a hold of yourself.” I whispered to myself.
         “C’mon let’s swim!” Tom said. I had already planted myself in the velour chair which rested invitingly in the livingroom. I glanced at my watch. “Sheesh Charlie, don’t be so boring.”
         I looked over to him and said, “Sorry buddy. I don’t really have a hankering to swim, I’ll go out and set myself down in one of the lounge chairs while you swim. I can go out t the boat house and grab some goggles for you though.”

There was so much time to kill, so to speak. I cracked a lukewarm beer open and placed the other eleven in the far depths of the dark fridge. “Should’ve brought a lightbulb.” I said to myself.
         Tom hadn’t said much of anything, he cautiously approached me. He wasn’t frightened of me, the kid just had a heart unlike anyone I knew.
          “Charlie, are you good?” he said softly.
         “Tom, would you shut it for Christ’s sake” I said. “Yeah, I told you I was, didn’t I?”

It hit me. The world had shut off instantly, it was like a violent acid trip. I saw the man’s skull, battered, the blood pooling in the dewy grass.
         
I came out of the daydream with a harsh slap to my face. I rubbed my eyes and pulled at my hair. I rested my weight on the open refrigerator door. “Sorry Charlie, I’m just a tad worried is all. I haven’t seen you so strucken with grief in a good time.”
         “Tom, shut up!” I snapped. “I came out here to give you a good time, not for you to council me.”
         “Okay,” his voice became soft.
         I looked down at Tom and smiled. “Let’s get those goggles for you, shall we?” He nodded and his soft smile came back. I took a long sip. He left me alone as he ventured to the bathroom to change. I finished the beer in a few big gulps.

Not even ten minutes later I was by the dock behind the house. I remember the water was calm, and there didn’t seem to be a single dreary cloud in the sky. I watched him at the end of the dock peering through the water from above.
          I had just exited the boat house which bordered the metal dock. I pulled the cobwebs from my shirt and approached the boy. I outstretched my arm to hand him the swimming accessories. He made eye contact and I said, “I wasn’t sure if you wanted these but here you go anyhow.” I shook my hand letting a pair of small blue flippers dangle. He took them and thanked me and I watched him as he quietly put them on.
         
I gripped the arms of the plastic lounge chair. The chair was an off-white color. I heard a loud splash as Tom jumped off of the end of the dock. I clutched a book in my hand and pretended to read the literature because the words seemed to jumble and the lines shifted. I cracked another beer.
         I didn’t really relish the taste of the cheap warm beer but I didn’t want to think about anything. I wanted the blood in my veins to flow from thin torrents to thick sludge. I turned the page.
         
The ground underneath me began to quake. I felt the chair under me turn as if it were placed upon a large Lazy-Susan, the sky faded to black. Laid out in front of me were utensils, a hacksaw, a wooden baseball bat, a container of bleach, disinfectant wipes, and dark and thick garbage bags.
         
         “The water’s nice, take a dip!” Tom shouted. Half of his body was immersed in the black water. I shook my head, it throbbed in pain and I was overcome with a wave of dizziness. I felt a thick strand of saliva drip and I quickly slurped it in.
         “Nah,” I waved a limp hand at him. “I’m reading.”

Dinner was hotdogs and burgers. I lit a match under the grill and huffed the strong scent of gas. I could see the invisible vapors distort and contort the evening air.
         “Want a beer Tom?” I bellowed from the front porch.
         I heard the thundering of Tom’s feet. He let the screen door slam. I looked up from the grill.
         “I can have one now?” I responded with a playful nod. It was a task to smile. “Yup... when you’re twenty-one!” I prodded.
         “C’mon man,” he whimpered. I flipped open the cover of the grill and let the raw meat fall upon the metal inches away from the coal embers.
         “Fine, grab one.”
         “Really?” I saw his face form a half-smile and half-befuddled look.
         “At dinner!” I gave a forcibly-formed snicker.

The meal was ready about ten minutes later. I had Tom set the table for us. I waltzed in the dining room and rested the mountain of burgers and dogs at the center of the table between the two of us. I told him to take a seat and I pulled two fresh bottles out from the fridge. They hissed as I applied the bottle opener to them. I gently poured his into a cup and I sucked the remnants of foamy liquid from his bottle. I rested his cup in front of him and he grinned. I parked myself and my bottled friend across from Tom. I couldn’t even stare into his eyes. I had to force them upon him.
         He laid a pile of lettuce, tomatoes, and cheese on his burger and glued it together with a thick wad of catsup. I bit in to my hotdog and heard the charred edges crack. I washed it down with a series of sips.
         I could tell Tom was copying me. He watched and scrutinized my every move. I didn’t want him to long to be like me but he did. He adored me and I could sense that.

When I closed my eyes, the lake house was empty. In front of where I was sitting was the screaming man. Billy applied the pliers to his mouth and pulled away. Joe brought the hammer down on the man’s knee caps.

My bottle fell from my hand. It did not shatter on the hard wood but it was loud enough to wake me up from my walking nightmare. I watched as the foam crept toward the carpet where it would ultimately seep into the fibers.
         “Charlie, you drunk or something?” Tom asked.
         I gave him an unsure look and followed it with a firm nob. “Yeah, yes, buddy... ah, yeah, just a little buzzed.”
         I rose and grabbed a hand towel that was tucked behind the handle of the kitchen stove. He followed close behind me and fished for cleaning spray from the cabinets under the sink.
         “No, it’s okay, Tom. I’ll get it you just finish your burger.” I said to him.
         “I did,” I looked toward his plate. How long had I spaced out? How long had he witnessed me in my dim stupor?

Once the dishes were removed from the table and submerged in soapy water, I went to my room. I unzipped my duffle bag and felt a shadow behind me.
         “Whatcha doing?” What disturbed me greatly was his voice hadn’t even gotten deep, it was still the voice of a child. I wiped my sunken eyes. I couldn’t even turn around. His look would have been fatal.
         “I’m just grabbing a movie. Mom and Dad never let you watch those scary flicks ya always wanta watch so... what do you say?”
         I grabbed Psycho by the marvelous Hitchcock, my personal favorite. We both cast our view upon the black and white screen.  I gripped another bottle and Tom still sipped on his first. He sat in the love seat next to me. His back was hunched as he watched the knife tear through the shower curtains.
         I knew what happened for I had seen it perhaps fifty times considering I had studied the structure of film making in my beloved genre. I just let my eyes scan the pale walls, gazing upon the family pictures nailed to them. I waited for the fictional murder to pass. Had I become Norman? I felt as if I had.
         I put the beer bottle to my lips and suddenly rose from my seat and Tom looked up from his bowl of popcorn.
         “I’m just going to the bathroom.” I answered before he could even ask.
         “Want me to pause—”
         “No, no, no” I cut him off, my eyes averted. “go ahead. Seen it a hundred times.” I explained bluntly.
         I watched the blood pour down the drain. I knew the blood was just chocolate syrup but it still haunted my very being. Marion was dead and I needed to vacate the Bate’s Motel I was currently occupying. I was no taxidermist, I reassured myself.
         
I waited in the bathroom for minutes upon dreadful minutes. I took a gander out the window. Darkness had already cloaked the sky. I could see the docks illuminated by the bright fluorescent rays produced by the halogens. I exited the bathroom.
         I gripped another bottle neck and let its cold contents coarse through me. I struck the diningroom table and the salt shaker toppled with a loud clamor. Tom shifted in the love seat. He continued to smack as he looked up at my sad eyes.
         “This is boring Charlie,” he said. “can we turn it off.”
         “You’re just scared is all.” 
         He shook his head and said, “Nah, not at all! Black ‘n’ white movies don’t frighten too much, it’s just too old.”
         “Ah,” I answered. His body was just a mere outline to me, he crept in and out of view. How could I feel so drunk? How was I so pathetically-stupid already? Only five beers consumed by me and only consumed by Tom. “Wanta go fishing?” I asked him.
         “Isn’t it too late?”
         I shut the movie off and let his chewing fill up the room. “Not if we go by the docks.” I replied.
         He agreed and I clutched the remaining beers by the ripped cardboard box. I stuffed the White Owl Cigars in my pocket. Tom pulled both of our rods from the porch and his tackle box swayed with his strides. I opened the refrigerator again and reached for the Styrofoam cup, it was hidden behind the condiments and leftovers from dinner. There was black writing on the plastic top: LIVE BAIT. My fingers pierced through the sides of the container.
         I looked at the top again and the words shifted in my drunkenness, I shook my head. Don’t have another beer.

Tom cast his lure and I heard it plop and bob in the blanket of water. I watched the ripples which acted as a mirror reflecting the stars and the moon which danced on the Tom-induced tide. The temperature had gotten cooler, perhaps twenty degrees due to the lack of cloud cover.
         I saw a dock light in the distance across the sheets of water. The dock from the other side of the lake was too close for my liking. What was there to like anyway?

I saw Billy standing on the water perhaps ten feet in front of me. I looked to see if Tom saw him but he had vanished. There was a large dog barking aggressively at Billy, it snarled and came in to bite at him. Billy used his jack-knife and it pierced the dog’s skin. It shrieked in the darkness. The dog fell by his incapacitated master. I looked into the man’s eyes. He cried and scarlet liquid poured from his toothless mouth. In the distance it looked like chocolate syrup. It looked unreal, yet the day dream was so vivid to me. Billy tossed the head of the beast inches from his face. I had not laughed, but I remember Billy and Joe howling like wolves.

         “Are you gonna fish?” Tom’s sweet voice asked.
         “What?” They were gone. I pretended not to hear and Tom repeated his question.
         “Jesus, you’re really drunk ain’t you?”
         “You know Mom and Dad don’t want you cursing like that.”
         “They ain’t around,” he laughed and I forced yet another smile on my face. I watched him as he ignorantly bobbed his fishing rod hither and tither. His joyous face was as harmful as a painful blow to the nose, almost instantly drawing tears to my eyes. Stop Laughing! I shouted in my dark, dark mind. Just stop it! Damn it all to hell!
         “Look I caught something!” He whipped his rod towards the moon. The fish took the bait, it was fooled and chomped down on that god-forsaken hook.
         I tried to laugh, masking my sorrow was becoming harder as was suppressing the vivid daydreams. I poured more beer down my throat. I rushed over to Tom, dropping the empty bottle on the dock. I assisted him as he reeled in his catch.
         As the fish sprung out of the water I saw the hook lodged deep down the poor creature’s throat. I held its helpless body in my hand as it flopped pathetically and aimlessly.
         “It’s a goner, huh?” he asked.
         “Yeah, I’m afraid it might be.” I said. My voice was slurred yet soft, it became dreadfully quiet. The water bumped against the dock. 
         “Why are you sad about it, Charlie.” he sensed my heavy heart.
         “‘cus killing is wrong.” I replied.
         “It ain’t always wrong.” I looked at him and frowned.
         “You’re right, not always. If you kill for those you love it ain’t a sin.” my voice became shaky.
         “What about for money?” I couldn’t believe his words. I paused for a moment and fought the stream of tears. I longed for him not to think that way. I took a series of deep breathes as the fish flailed from suffocation.
         “That’s the worst kind of killing Tom,” I said sternly. He saw through me, he knew my secrets , he knew what I had brought myself to do.
         “Let me pull the hook out,” he said to me, my stomach lunged when he looked at me. He smiled as he looked at the fine strand of fishing line.
         “You know if you don’t do it right it’ll die.” I bent for the case of beer and withdrew one.
         “I know.” He handed over the rod for me to hold and I let the perch sink back into the water. He walked over to the tackle box. I wanted the fish to hold on to life as much as it could. I watched it swim freely in the shallows. Tom closed his box and clutched a pair of pliers.
          I handed the lure back to him and he pulled the fish out from the water. I watched Tom as he prepared to operate. He held it and it puckered at him asking him to be gentle.
         I winced as the pliers were applied, the fish’s gills shifting. I almost wanted him to take the fish’s life, just to wipe away his innocence.
         My young brother gently removed the hook and dropped the fish back to its habitat to swim amongst the weeds and rocks. We both waited in silence, I looked at the bubbling water. We waited for a  minute or two and the fish didn’t float to the surface.
         “Let’s go inside,” he said. It seemed as if hours had past in the silence.
         “You want a cigar first?”
         “Should I have one?” his eyes glistened in the light the halogens were casting.
         “Screw it, you yourself said that Mom and Dad ain’t here!” I reached into my pockets and unscrewed the caps from the plastic enclosures. “Would you like strawberry or watermelon?”
         “I don’t care.” he said. I opened my untouched beer and handed him it and the strawberry cigar. I placed mine between my teeth and he did the same. He gripped onto my arm and pressed against me with affection. “You know Charlie, you’re the coolest.”
         I felt tears overcome me, my heart sank more and I glanced at my watch. He pulled away from me and took a sip of the beer I handed him. Billy and Joe would be there any moment. I wanted them dead. If I failed to complete my task they surely would kill both of us. It was their sick enjoyment out of death which was what made me cringe.
         “Hey let me have a sip of that?”
          I could let him go! I could tell Tom what had happened, that I had seen him. He would be free, when they came in just a matter of minutes they would kill me and he would be fine. He would be able to live his life. I wasn’t worth saving.
         My pulse rose in excitement. Would death really kill me or would it free me? I may actually enlighten me, I felt like it truly may.

When I closed my eyes I saw Billy, he had a bat in hand and Joe held him down. I doubt the man really wanted to live anyway. I closed my eyes and heard the plunge—
         
as Tom fell into the water. I dropped the broken bottle and bit down on my cigar, Tom hadn’t even tasted his. I jumped into the vast wake the boy’s body had created. I spit the cigar out and forced my hands around his neck.
         I held his head under and he flailed. I could hear his screams from underwater, just garbled gibberish. My tears poured consistently and I closed my eyes and cocked my head backwards. I cursed to the sky and to the moon and to the stars and to the false idol who perhaps inhabited them.
         I saw fierce flashed in my eyes. It was yet another peyote-trance another dream. I could tell Tom’s arms were punching the weeds underneath him, he gripped for them for support. What am I doing? I yelled in my head.
         The flashes failed to stop and my head felt intense pressure his body stopped flailing. Flood lights back-lit the murky depths of kicked up sand and dread. I knew he took the bait and swallowed the damned hook! How could he?
         I let the lifeless body float free Cold flesh struck my arm, the perch floated next to Tom. I wiped my tears away and gazed with my bloodshot eyes towards the blinding beam of lights  I saw two uniformed men aiming the vicious beam upon me. Next to them I saw the outlines of my parents hugging and crying. There were two more people, but I was blinded by the light and couldn’t make them out. Who was it?
         Only then had I realized who had turned me in...