Where Children Run - Excerpt (text)

     That afternoon the twins played happily in the ditch near the front of the house. The mud was thick and sticky, perfect for molding small figurines. Rolling the clay in their hands, they made cars, tractors, farm animals and buildings. Marjorie watched in amazement as Dennis took two small pieces of wire and poked them through the bottom of a tractor he was making. Rolling four balls into perfectly even wheels, he poked the wheels onto the wire, then added a small piece of clay on the ends to keep each from falling off.
Few people recognized the twins’ capabilities, but Marjorie knew they had artistic talent and that they were meticulous in their work. As each figurine was completed, it was carefully set on a piece of wood to dry in the sun.
Dennis and David spent most of the afternoon dreamily making toys until the sound of the tractor jolted them back to reality. Marjorie had left a few hours earlier while Eunice and Norman were bringing in the cows for the evening milking. The twins could hear the lead cow’s bell as she made her way into the barn. Bruno jumped and barked as Norman threw a stick for him to retrieve. The twins lay flat in the ditch, hoping that Domko wouldn’t see them.
Domko stopped by the house to unload a few groceries then drove the tractor to the lean-to and parked it. He strode across the yard and then disappeared into the barn. There was yelling and a loud commotion and then Norman burst through the barn door and began running with Domko on his heels. He slipped under the fence and scrambling up, ran toward the bush that lead to the church. Domko caught him on the other side of the house, just out of the twins view.
“C’mon,” David said, crawling out of the ditch. Hunched over, the boys crept to the corner of the house. Their brother was screaming in pain around the corner from them. Peering around, they saw Domko towering over Norman.
“Vas it goot?” Domko yelled as he beat him with a stick. “You punk!”
“No,” Norman lied as the stick smashed down on his body. “I didn’t do it.”
“Vat?” Domko roared. “Who’s be doink it? Marjie be doink it?”
Eunice stood by the barn, her hands drawn up to her face. She flinched every time the stick smashed down. The twins watched sadly from a safe distance as Domko beat Norman, his feet lifting off the ground as he put the entire weight of his body into it.
A warning growl began in Bruno’s throat as he lowered his head and tail and walked slowly toward Domko. The growl deepened and he bared his teeth. His warning grew louder everytime Norman cried out. Domko didn’t notice the dog as it crept closer, the hair on his back now standing straight on end. The twins gasped in disbelief as Bruno suddenly lunged at Domko, digging his teeth deep into his forearm. Domko let out a scream as he knocked the snarling dog to the ground.
“Fraa,” he swore as the dog stepped between him and Norman. Bruno’s eyes remained lowered as he continued to growl deep in his throat.
“I’s be showink it some!” Domko roared as he strode through the yard towards the granary. He emerged seconds later carrying a .308 calibre rifle, snapping the clip in place.
Disoriented, Norman lay on the ground while Bruno stood protectively over him. Then he saw Domko’s gun.
“Bruno, get outta here,” Norman yelled. “Run, Bruno, run!”
The dog turned to him and his tail began to wag softly. He pressed his wet nose on Norman’s face then this thick, soft tongue lapped the boy’s cheek.
“Go away,” Norman said as he struggled to sit up. Once he realized the dog wasn’t going to run, he turned to his stepfather.
“Please don’t,” Norman begged. “It’s not his fault.”
Without a word, Domko cocked the hammer. He smirked as he took careful aim, then pulled the trigger. Norman jumped in surprise.
Bruno yelped and fell to the ground, shaking violently as the bullet pierced his abdomen, rendering his back legs useless, his normally soft brown eyes were wild with fear and shock. Norman watched as the dog began pulling himself along the ground with his front paws toward the bush where he’d run behind the children so many times. Norman pulled his hands up to his face and began crying as his stepfather walked slowly behind the dog who struggled valiantly to escape. Domko took his time, enjoying the dog’s fear and desperation, chuckling at the dog’s wimpering, and stepping carelessly in the smear of blood across the hard ground. He made sure that everyone was watching as he placed the gun just a few inches from the dog’s head. By now, Bruno had given up and was lying still and softly panting. Then he slowly pulled the trigger.

Caroline was bagging carrots in the far garden when the first gunshot rang out. Turning toward the house, she could see Eunice in the barnyard and the twins at the corner of the house. Domko was standing near Norman who was lying on the ground. Caroline saw her husband raise the gun again.
“No,” she screamed, running through the pasture towards the house. Her heart thumped hard as she waved her arms. “Norman!”
Another shot rang out and Caroline screamed in anguish. She could see the twins running around the side of the house and Eunice turn quickly into the barn. Norman was struggling to stand up, supporting himself by leaning on the side of the house. Domko turned and walked slowly back to the granary.
As she continued running through the field, it took a few moments for her to realize that Domko hadn’t shot her son afterall.
“What’s going on?” she demanded breathlessly as she met Domko at the Granary door.
“I’s be shootink that soneebeech,” he replied, pointing towards the brown lump of fur lying on the driveway. The look of pleasure on his face made Caroline both uneasy and angry. She had liked the dog and was tired of Domko killing all the children’s pets.
Domko explained that he was punishing Norman for stealing when the dog attacked him. Caroline eyed him suspiciously but said nothing. She was so relieved that it wasn’t Norman that he’d shot, she decided it was best to forget the incident.
“Take into some bush,” Domko said pointing at the dead dog. Norman leaned against the house but said nothing. The twins waited until Domko  and their mother went inside before they reappeared.
Norman’s body was bleeding and swollen from the beating, and his face was streamed with tears. He turned away from the twins and hobbled down the driveway.
“Me an’ Davey will do it,” Dennis called out as they watched him walk into the bush across the road.
The twins picked up the dog and carried it into the bush by the church. They chose a spot near where they had buried Rosie’s cat, and using a shovel from the barn, they began to dig a shallow grave. Kneeling beside it they covered the dog completely, then brushed sticks and leaves on top of the grave.
“What did Norman do?” Dennis asked.
David pushed a wooden marker into the dirt.
“He went for the mail an’ put an apple on the bill at the Co-op,” David said, wiping his hands on his shirt. “It costed three cents.”