Andrei had been murdered. Fourteen hours ago, his family vowed to figure out who killed him, and take their revenge by sunrise. They now had six hours remaining to make good on that vow…

*

The village that Andrei’s family called home had sustained a death rite for over three hundred years. When a resident of the village died, the family would carry the body from house to house – visiting all the friends, family, and loved ones of the deceased. At each stop, a toast would be made in honor of the recently passed, they would all share stories and reminisce fondly, and then, with the deceased in tow, the family would move on to the next house, repeating the process until dawn. Once the sun rose, they would deliver the departed to the gravesite and lie them to final rest.

So it had gone, for as long as anyone could recall, this death rite played out in all its hoary theatricality. No one questioned it- in fact, everyone enjoyed it… for it provided yet another reason to drink and socialize; acts which carried much weight in small villages comprised of close-knit, working-class folk. Working-class folk just like Andrei’s family who now undertook this rite with ulterior motives at heart- drinking and talking with suspect after suspect.

Emil

Andrei’s father, Emil, a woodworker, was the type of man that suffered in silence at all times. His lot, the lot of others – all suffering – was taken as equal and he never attempted to sort any of it out. He was content with a warm fire and a stiff drink, a proud day’s work done, his children around a table, nourished by what he had provided – all was equal. He was confident that his small anxieties, aches, and pains, did not amount to much in the grand scheme.

Never allowing himself to get upset over things obviously out of his control, his life had always maintained a placid equilibrium. It was this staid mode of daily ritual that afforded him his peace, his pride, and his contentment. This is why the sudden and violent death of his son had shaken him so badly. He felt pangs of intense guilt, as if faced with the sudden, frightening realization that he had somehow taken him for granted. Even though he spent ample time with his son and loved him dearly, he felt as though he could have, in the end, done more to excite his passions – to provide him opportunities to flourish and discover himself in ways that Emil never had cared to explore throughout his own life.

Gabriel

Andrei’s older brother, Gabriel, had taken a different tack in life. Inspired by his father’s void of distinctive passions, he had thrown himself into the arts at an early age. He was adept at painting and writing especially – and he managed to make a serviceable living for himself utilizing those skills. True, he lived a bohemian existence, yet it suited him well. He enjoyed drink and debate. He was a passionate, overtly virile man, well known in town for having bedded more than his fair share of beautiful women. Despite it all, he was humble at heart, kind and always willing to help others in any way he was able.

Gabriel had moved out of the main house many years ago, yet still lived on the family land, helping with upkeep and always being present for weekly family dinners. Those nights by the fire with his father, his mother and Andrei were very special to him.

They had never had much, they were not extravagant folk, but they had supported each other at any turn their lives took. Drinking those stiff drinks and eagerly maintaining the fire with thick, seasoned wood while the family spoke without egoism, without fear of judgment, were the most genuine emotional experiences of Gabriel’s life. He truly had a home - he had that fire in his spine and it could never be extinguished by the outside world. His family had made him who he was and he was grateful with all the sincerity in his heart. When he heard about Andrei’s death, a part of him shattered irreconcilably. He was sick, he was in shock, and then, all was anger. That fire in his spine flared up and consumed him with an unfamiliar, hateful ferocity when he saw his baby brother lying on a bloodied sheet with his skull bashed in.     

Tereza

Tereza was the center of the family, the soul that informed the body. All compassion and all empathy had sprung from her and been planted, not only into her husband, who she married at a young age, but also into her sons. She had led them through life with a strong sense of purpose. Whatever the boys were interested in she encouraged them to throw themselves into it with abandon. She was always fond of telling them, “Live with your heart, simply love what you do and you will always be doing what you love”. It seemed an undemanding platitude, but it registered deep within both boys. Gabriel saw it as a clear, existentialist celebration of the artist’s communion with a muse, while Andrei saw it as a calling to develop a profound spiritual connection to nature and the small works, which filled you with humor and fondness for the silent beauties found in all corners of life. Both boys were right, after all, it was plainly a call to arms – a rally to not miss the opportunities to know yourself - to care for yourself, and therein, to care for the world. Tereza ignited enthusiasms the boys themselves were unaware they possessed, and so, possessed they became. Repeatedly changing and evolving, continuously adding new threads to the rich tapestries of their life experience.

Out of all the family members, Tereza was the strongest. Yet, now when they were faced with this sudden death, that strength became her greatest weakness. She had developed such reverence and respect for her sons by seeing her own strength reflected back in their personalities, that the idea of one of them no longer being by her side was simply absurd. It had never even crossed her mind as a possibility – to outlive your own child! Nonsense! Ridiculous nonsense! However, it was now a reality, and it was too much for her to comprehend.

Tereza had not cried, she had not yet fallen to her knees and sobbed that guttural animal sob that only the unluckiest amongst us have heard shred a human being’s vocal chords. All she had done when she heard the news was drop a pitcher of milk, her hands went slack and the pitcher disappeared from her grasp, as if it were jumping into the oppressive oblivion, which seemed to envelope everything around her. She collapsed into a nearby chair and as the men in the room talked, yelled, spit, and cursed, she stared at the jagged shards of glass and the white liquid, hearing no detail. She reflexively felt compelled to drop down to her knees and clean the mess up, but the very idea of actually doing it made her want to scream and vomit at the same time.

After a long while, Tereza finally stood to focus on the room. Her face drained of color, whiter than that milk, an alabaster void. Emil and Gabriel rushed to her side, ready to comfort her, yet she only needed one thing: an answer. Her voice was hoarse and monotone, “Who killed my boy?”

The Death Rite

For as steeped in tradition as this entire act was, it was ironic that the commencement of the death rite had no specific ritual attached to it. You simply and unceremoniously started walking to the houses you desired to visit.

Gabriel and Emil each held one end of the makeshift stretcher, which they had cobbled together out of a few blankets, and some wooden poles they salvaged from an old barn earlier in the season. It was crude, but they had no other option on such short notice. It would have to suffice, because they could not devote any more time to delays; people were expecting them.

Their first stop would be the Gregor house. Marta and Hamish Gregor were the parents of two children the same ages as Gabriel and Andrei. Their daughter, Sara, had been Andrei’s sweetheart. The two had only been dating for a month, but Andrei seemed quite taken with the plainspoken girl. He was always running off to be with her, always buying her trinkets. Emil and Tereza had seen it with other girls before and they had always expected to see it again with still other girls. However, in this case, fate had now created a lifelong bond between these people.

Hamish must have been watching through the window because he opened the door before Emil knocked. “Come in... dear Father in heaven, come in out of the cold with your boy.”

Tereza, Emil and Gabriel entered the house, the two men carrying Andrei’s body on the stretcher. Marta and Hamish both stood over Andrei’s body, heads bowed, silently reciting a prayer. Hamish placed his hand on Andrei’s forehead and told him to be at peace.

“We’re sorry for your loss, Andrei was a wonderful person. We didn’t know him for very long, but we quickly grew to love him.”

Hamish motioned over to a large blanket on the floor – this was customary. When the deceased’s body was brought into a house, you would lie them down in order to drink around them. You would never lay the body directly on the floor; there would always be some sort of blanket, some makeshift bed, something available to cradle the body before it was set into the earth for eternity.

 Hamish had drinks pre-poured and he placed a glass in everyone’s hand. Hamish raised his glass in toast, “To Andrei, a perfect gentleman and a lovely addition to our extended family, who was taken from us all too soon.”    

  Everyone downed their drinks and Marta quickly passed in front of the crowd, re-filling the glasses. Marta then gave a toast. “To Andrei: a young man who made our daughter Sara sing with happiness. May God bless his soul as he sits beside Him in heaven for all eternity.”

Again, everyone downed their glasses and again Marta promptly refilled them. This continued for an hour, until Hamish suggested they go see Sara.

“Poor Sara is devastated, as you can imagine. She loved dear Andrei so intensely. You should visit her after you leave us. You can take a shortcut there if you go the back way from our house and cut across the field. Keep north for two kilometers and you will come to the tree line directly behind her house.”

Emil stood and shook Hamish’s hand. “Thank you, Hamish, thank you for your warming condolences. We will go and see Sara straight away.”

Gabriel and Tereza both gave their thanks as well, and then Emil and his only remaining son hoisted Andrei up from the floor and started toward Sara’s house. Tereza took the lead holding a lantern aloft to create a narrow beam of light they could follow through the grey and white woods.

It had snowed heavily the previous day and the walk to Sara’s house took much longer than they had anticipated. Crunching through the deep snow was hypnotic to Gabriel. The sounds of cracking through the surface of the frozen covering, their boots sinking into the powder underneath and the sucking sound of pulling them out looped ceaselessly. They did not stop to rest.

Emil broke the numbing ambience of their trip, “Sara’s parents are nice people.”

Gabriel scoffed, “They’re ostentatious.”

“How’s that, Gabe?” Emil asked.

 “Every story they shared about Andrei centered around them somehow, what they were doing for Andrei – how generous and how kind they were to take Andrei there, to show him this, to give him that... it was grotesque. It was exasperating to bear their thinly veiled tales of self-aggrandizing shit. I wanted to spit up their drinks onto the floor, I was sick at the idea of having to accept anything they were offering me.” Gabriel explained.

Emil stared ahead into the dim void of snow and trees, “You are very perceptive, Gabriel.”

They came to a clearing in the woods and the snow on the ground was disturbed, numerous footprints and wheel marks from carriages decorated the surroundings. Gabriel stopped in his tracks, “Mother, wait. This is where they found his body.”

Tereza directed her lantern light onto the scenery. The family stood in place and contemplated the disturbed snow. The location was sickeningly ordinary - just a random section of woods, nothing special. Gabriel had no good cause to be upset that his brother’s body was not dumped somewhere more spectacular, yet for some reason it stoked his anger. “Someone just left him out here to be picked over by animals.”

Emil placed his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, “We still have a long night ahead of us, we should keep moving. It’s getting colder.”

They soon came upon Sara’s house. Since they had taken the shortcut, they approached the small house from behind. Gabriel noticed a wheelbarrow with no significant amount of snow accumulated upon its surface, its bright red color cutting through the grey and white wash of the winter night. Every surface that could hold it had at least two or three inches of snow piled upon it, except for that wheelbarrow. There were tire tracks and footprints leading around to the front of the house and out to the tree line. For some reason, the whole scene struck Gabriel as odd and it nagged at him.

Tereza knocked, yet there was no answer, she knocked again – still no answer. The firelight danced behind the curtained window and it certainly seemed like someone was home. Gabriel shifted his weight, holding the makeshift stretcher with one hand and quickly and loudly pounded his fist upon the door. Finally, Sara opened it.

“Oh, dear family... come, bring my sweet Andrei in.” Sara motioned for them to enter and held the door open wide. There was a pile of laundry sitting on the floor and a large pot of water, simmering over the fire inside. “I was just preparing to clean the dishes, but that can wait.” Sara looked the family over giving a consolatory frown to each person, one by one. She hugged Emil first, then Tereza and finally came to Gabriel. “Gabriel, he loved you so much, you were his best friend in the world, how distraught you must be.”

“I am.” Gabriel replied, “We’ve just come from your parent’s house. Do you have drinks?”

Sara looked confused, and then it dawned on her, “The death rite, of course. I have only experienced it once, when I was a very young girl, please excuse my ignorance. Let me bring you all something to warm you on this viciously cold night. You can place dear, Andrei there.” She pointed to a large table near the fireplace.

As Sara procured the glasses and a bottle, Gabriel noticed that nowhere in her cramped little kitchen area were there any dirty dishes. “I thought you said you were preparing to clean the dishes, yet I see none piled about.”

“Gabriel!” Tereza barked, “it is no concern of ours how a lady keeps her own house.”

Sara raised her hand in protest, “Oh, dear Mother, it is quite all right. Gabriel - and all of us – are deeply fraught with confusion and pain right now. All of our heads are spinning trying to make sense of this day. What I meant to say was that I had just finished cleaning the dishes as you knocked upon the door. I’m going to launder my linens now”

Gabriel scoffed, “Those fraught with pain rarely see to banal chores.”

“Gabriel, please do not think ill of me, I only do this banal work to occupy my mind. I feel the mourning process overcoming me and I’m not as strong as you, I need to attempt to hide away and misdirect the painful emotions I feel.” Sara handed Gabriel a glass of liquor and continued, “This will be difficult for us all”

Gabriel took the drink and downed it in one gulp. Sara handed Emil and Tereza their drinks and then refilled Gabriel’s glass. Once again, Gabriel downed his immediately. That fire in his spine was flaring up again.

“Who killed my brother, Sara?” Gabriel stared her down and she looked away.

“I wish I knew,” Sara replied, “so that the vile beast may be brought to swift justice.”

Gabriel waved his glass at Sara and she refilled it again. “When did you last see him?”

Sara thought this over for a bit, then, “It was yesterday afternoon, he came by for lunch. We ate and then my brother stopped by to see me. Dear, I...” Sara trailed off.

“What is it?” Emil approached Sara and softly inquired. “You seem as though you’ve just thought of something.”

“Well,” Sara started, “it’s probably nothing, but I just had a horrid thought. You see, my brother, Anton had always found himself at odds with poor Andrei. For some unknown reason, there was great tension between the two of them. Yesterday, when Anton stopped by, he and Andrei seemed to be continuing an argument they had started some time before. They were both exceptionally upset. They began pushing each other, and as I stepped in between them to act as peacekeeper, Anton shouted that he wanted to... Oh, I cannot even say it... it is too terrible.  

Emil placed a gentle hand on Sara’s shoulder, “Go ahead, Sara. What did Anton say?”

Sara looked to Tereza, as if she was afraid to say it in her presence. “He said... ‘I’m going to bash your skull in’ and Andrei replied saying he wished he would try. I was not able to calm them down and Anton stormed out, shortly thereafter, Andrei left, saying he was going home. That was the last time anyone saw him. I told you – it is too terrible to think of! My dear brother could not have done such a thing... could he?”

Gabriel snatched the bottle from the table and began to drain it without bothering to pour it into his glass first. Tereza, tried to pull the bottle away from him, yet Gabriel angrily snapped it away from her feeble grasp. Emil shot Gabriel a look that shamed him, yet it was not enough to cut through the inebriated fog he was determined to shroud himself within. If the death rite called for him to drink, he would do just that. He would honor his brother in any way he could. For now though, his mind raced with images of Anton smashing Gabriel’s head in. Slurring his words, he spat out the question - “Where does Anton live?”

Sara was happy to provide the information, “Right off of the lake, on the north side, in the small house that has a broken dock. However, please, Gabriel – do not jump to conclusions. Perhaps you should talk to the rest of the people you plan to visit, see if anything comes to light. Give yourself some time to think and calm down.”

“I’m perfectly calm!” Gabriel shouted, “I’m simply trying to mourn my brother. We should go now.”

Emil grabbed the bottle from Gabriel and set it back down, out of his reach. He stood and embraced Sara in a hug, “Thank you for your hospitality, my dear. We will see you at the burial, I’m sure.”

Sara thanked Emil and then pulled Teresa into a hug, “Dear, Mother, please take care.”

Tereza nodded politely, yet said nothing in return.

Sara implored Gabriel, “Gabriel, please, grant my brother the benefit of doubt... the poor soul has had enough trouble in his life.” 

With that, Emil and Gabriel picked up the stretcher and they all headed back out into the cold dim, grey.

After Sara shut the door she returned to the pile of linens piled up against the wall. She opened a tightly bound sheet to reveal a mess of dried blood, and a large, cast-iron ladle with bits of skin and hair stuck to it. She placed the ladle into the pot of boiling water over the fire, then balled the sheets together and threw them onto the logs. Turning everything over onto itself with the poker, she stoked the flames and watched the sheets burn away to ashes. She grabbed the nearby bottle of liquor and took a long draw.   

Lex talionis

The family visited four other houses in quick succession, drinking and sharing rushed pleasantries, all the while making their way closer to the lake. Luca K. and Stefan R. both spoke of a public argument between Andrei and Anton they had witnessed a few days prior. Others also spoke about a rift between the two; it seemed to be common gossip amongst those who knew both parties. Some even suggested a twisted love triangle between Sara, her brother and Andrei. Gabriel’s anger grew as he continued to drink and as they went along with the tradition, so too did Tereza and Emil begin to succumb to darker thoughts as the alcohol took control of their emotions. Eventually, they exhausted their acquaintances and had visited everyone they could think of that knew Andrei. Now, well drunk, they found themselves at the lakefront and Gabriel pointed out the house with the broken dock. “That’s where the bastard lives.” He began charging ahead, almost yanking Emil along on the other end of the stretcher. Emil pulled back and asked Gabriel to stop.

“Gabriel, we must think this through, we cannot just go charging into his house.” Emil implored Tereza, with a look to help him convince Gabriel. She offered no such support.

Tereza looked at Emil blankly, “I think we should confront him while we have the chance.”

Gabriel grinned and tugged at the stretcher, “I agree with Mother, let’s see what he does when we show up unannounced.”

The house was dark – the sun would be up soon and Anton was surely sound asleep. They approached and Gabriel handed his end of the stretcher to Tereza, and then opened the front door as quietly as he could. They entered the house and saw Anton, asleep in his small bed in front of a dying fire. Tereza and Emil set the stretcher down on a table and all three family members stood over Anton as he slept. Gabriel picked up a hammer from the mantle and stood over Anton, turning the tool over in his hand and looking at the red glow it reflected from the smoldering coals in the fireplace. The red of the coals made Gabriel think of splitting Anton’s skull open while he slept, yet, he resisted. He wanted Anton to know exactly what was coming and why, he wanted him to look into the faces of his father and mother and see Andrei lying on the stretcher so that he was forced to bear witness to the family he had destroyed. Gabriel gave Anton a sharp kick in the ribs and he woke in a start, clutching his side and wincing in pain. 

Gabriel stood over him, hammer in hand, “Good morning, Anton. I hope you do not mind that we let ourselves in. We need to talk...”

Anton looked into the faces surrounding him –disoriented by sleep, he still was not fully conscious of the situation.

Gabriel grabbed Anton by his nightshirt and pulled him up into a sitting position, he waved the hammer in front of his face, “You need to tell us about your relationship with Andrei.”

Anton looked over and saw the stretcher, it all made a sudden horrible sense to him. “Oh, God... Andrei. I... I never touched him.”

“According to everyone we have spoken with, including your sister, you and Andrei had a highly strained relationship. Some may say, violent.” Gabriel swung the hammer in an arc toward Anton, stopping short of connecting with his head, to punctuate the word ‘violent’. “What did you use to bash his skull in?” Gabriel felt dizzy and he could tell he was slurring his words; the alcohol in his system had taken full control. It was too warm in Anton’s house and it smelled sour. Gabriel felt sick and wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

Anton raised his hands in surrender, “I did not harm, Andrei. It was my sister, was it not, who planted this notion in your mind?”

Emil leaned forward to answer, “We talked with your sister – and many others. Everyone spoke of an irate tension between you and Andrei. The implication is clear.”

Anton began to panic, “I promise you, it is manufactured. Sara created the rift between Andrei and I. On more than one occasion I attempted to broach the subject with him, yet the fiction that Sara had created for Andrei to hear had taken hold and he dismissed me angrily. It is true, we argued in public, yet it was only because I was desperate to work out the misunderstanding between us.”

“You had clear motive and Andrei never had any other enemies, it is as plain as can be. You killed my brother,” Gabriel grabbed Anton’s shirt and shook him like a rag doll.

“No! This is my sister’s undertaking! Sara has always harbored a sick fascination with me and when she takes suitors into her life, she attempts to create a rift between them and I. She wants me to fight with them; she wants them to hate me because she cannot bring herself to do so. She tells them terrible, deceptive things about me and then goads them to confront me. This has occurred repeatedly, ever since we were children – her, setting her friends against me out of malicious jealousy.”

“Jealousy born from what?” Emil inquired.

“She is incensed at my ability to see her as a sibling and not as a woman. Sara is not right in her mind... she has professed her love for me since she was a child. Through the years, this twisted view has only grown more perverted and repulsive. She throws herself at me and when I reject her advances, she creates horrid situations such as this as a form of punishment.”

“I have heard enough! You are the sick one, blaming your sister for Andrei’s death – how despicable. As if a small woman could overpower my brother and crush his skull with such force!” Gabriel pointed toward Andrei’s body on the stretcher, “His head was caved in by a man; a cowardly man, one who brashly attempts to place culpability onto a woman instead of admitting his transgression. The jury has reached a verdict, Anton – you have been found guilty.” Gabriel raised the hammer to the heavens.

Emil lunged at Anton, wrapping his arms around him and holding him tightly in a bear hug as Gabriel struck him on the crown of his head. He hit him three times in quick succession, snapping the hammer back and forth as if he were driving a nail into a board.

Tereza cried out and grabbed Gabriel’s arm, “Stop! I believe him.” However, it was too late. Anton slumped back onto his bed, his head wet and misshapen. Tereza sobbed and Emil stood over Anton’s body with a sudden look of confusion flushed across his face. Gabriel felt sick, he rushed out the door and into the cold.

Hunched over, with his hands on his knees, Gabriel heaved in and out, trying to keep himself from being sick. The world spun, and watching his hot breath spew into the frigid air, he felt as though he was trying to purge abstruse demons from within his body.

Emil approached him from behind, “Gabriel, what have we done? Your mother continues to suggest that Anton was telling the truth and that we have made a terrible mistake.” Gabriel said nothing, Emil pushed. “You yourself had an awful impression of Sara - could it be, Gabriel? Could Anton have been innocent of what we accused him?”

Poenitentia

It had been three days since the family had buried Andrei... three days since they stumbled out of that lake house in a daze, carrying Andrei’s body through the encroaching morning light to the cemetery... three days since they rolled Anton’s corpse off the broken dock and into the lake.

The news around town was that Anton had been found murdered; his body washed up on the east shore, his head beaten in. People suggested there was a killer on the loose, the same killer who had murdered Andrei in similar fashion. Gabriel, Emil and Tereza knew better, yet they made no mention of it. That night, they congregated in front of the fire at Emil and Tereza’s house in silence. Their usual proclivity for discussion muted by shared truths too awful to speak, the shared regret of actions that smothered every other topic in their lives. Their youngest son was dead, and now, due to their inability to accept the unjust nature of life, the family that remained was dead as well. They had violated their world and now nothing could ever return to the way it was before.

Gabriel could no longer endure suffering in silence with his, now, unfamiliar family. After a few drinks the unspoken communion was too much to bear, so he decided to leave and avoid the distressing situation altogether.

Gabriel went into town, bought a bottle of fine liquor and set it on a tray near his front door with four glasses. He also placed Anton’s hammer, which he had kept, on the tray as well. Then he made a fire and sat in front of it, idly poking and turning the logs while the sky changed colors as hours ticked away.

Late that night, as Gabriel sat awake, there was a knock at the door. It was Anton’s family, carrying his body in tow. Anton’s brother, father and mother were obviously, quite drunk. Sara was not with them. Gabriel welcomed them into the house, shut the door, and presented the tray. “I’m sorry for your loss...”

Andrei had been murdered. Fourteen hours ago, his family vowed to figure out who killed him, and take their revenge by sunrise. They now had six hours remaining to make good on that vow…

*

The village that Andrei’s family called home had sustained a death rite for over three hundred years. When a resident of the village died, the family would carry the body from house to house – visiting all the friends, family, and loved ones of the deceased. At each stop, a toast would be made in honor of the recently passed, they would all share stories and reminisce fondly, and then, with the deceased in tow, the family would move on to the next house, repeating the process until dawn. Once the sun rose, they would deliver the departed to the gravesite and lie them to final rest.

So it had gone, for as long as anyone could recall, this death rite played out in all its hoary theatricality. No one questioned it- in fact, everyone enjoyed it… for it provided yet another reason to drink and socialize; acts which carried much weight in small villages comprised of close-knit, working-class folk. Working-class folk just like Andrei’s family who now undertook this rite with ulterior motives at heart- drinking and talking with suspect after suspect.

Emil

Andrei’s father, Emil, a woodworker, was the type of man that suffered in silence at all times. His lot, the lot of others – all suffering – was taken as equal and he never attempted to sort any of it out. He was content with a warm fire and a stiff drink, a proud day’s work done, his children around a table, nourished by what he had provided – all was equal. He was confident that his small anxieties, aches, and pains, did not amount to much in the grand scheme.

Never allowing himself to get upset over things obviously out of his control, his life had always maintained a placid equilibrium. It was this staid mode of daily ritual that afforded him his peace, his pride, and his contentment. This is why the sudden and violent death of his son had shaken him so badly. He felt pangs of intense guilt, as if faced with the sudden, frightening realization that he had somehow taken him for granted. Even though he spent ample time with his son and loved him dearly, he felt as though he could have, in the end, done more to excite his passions – to provide him opportunities to flourish and discover himself in ways that Emil never had cared to explore throughout his own life.

Gabriel

Andrei’s older brother, Gabriel, had taken a different tack in life. Inspired by his father’s void of distinctive passions, he had thrown himself into the arts at an early age. He was adept at painting and writing especially – and he managed to make a serviceable living for himself utilizing those skills. True, he lived a bohemian existence, yet it suited him well. He enjoyed drink and debate. He was a passionate, overtly virile man, well known in town for having bedded more than his fair share of beautiful women. Despite it all, he was humble at heart, kind and always willing to help others in any way he was able.

Gabriel had moved out of the main house many years ago, yet still lived on the family land, helping with upkeep and always being present for weekly family dinners. Those nights by the fire with his father, his mother and Andrei were very special to him.

They had never had much, they were not extravagant folk, but they had supported each other at any turn their lives took. Drinking those stiff drinks and eagerly maintaining the fire with thick, seasoned wood while the family spoke without egoism, without fear of judgment, were the most genuine emotional experiences of Gabriel’s life. He truly had a home - he had that fire in his spine and it could never be extinguished by the outside world. His family had made him who he was and he was grateful with all the sincerity in his heart. When he heard about Andrei’s death, a part of him shattered irreconcilably. He was sick, he was in shock, and then, all was anger. That fire in his spine flared up and consumed him with an unfamiliar, hateful ferocity when he saw his baby brother lying on a bloodied sheet with his skull bashed in.     

Tereza

Tereza was the center of the family, the soul that informed the body. All compassion and all empathy had sprung from her and been planted, not only into her husband, who she married at a young age, but also into her sons. She had led them through life with a strong sense of purpose. Whatever the boys were interested in she encouraged them to throw themselves into it with abandon. She was always fond of telling them, “Live with your heart, simply love what you do and you will always be doing what you love”. It seemed an undemanding platitude, but it registered deep within both boys. Gabriel saw it as a clear, existentialist celebration of the artist’s communion with a muse, while Andrei saw it as a calling to develop a profound spiritual connection to nature and the small works, which filled you with humor and fondness for the silent beauties found in all corners of life. Both boys were right, after all, it was plainly a call to arms – a rally to not miss the opportunities to know yourself - to care for yourself, and therein, to care for the world. Tereza ignited enthusiasms the boys themselves were unaware they possessed, and so, possessed they became. Repeatedly changing and evolving, continuously adding new threads to the rich tapestries of their life experience.

Out of all the family members, Tereza was the strongest. Yet, now when they were faced with this sudden death, that strength became her greatest weakness. She had developed such reverence and respect for her sons by seeing her own strength reflected back in their personalities, that the idea of one of them no longer being by her side was simply absurd. It had never even crossed her mind as a possibility – to outlive your own child! Nonsense! Ridiculous nonsense! However, it was now a reality, and it was too much for her to comprehend.

Tereza had not cried, she had not yet fallen to her knees and sobbed that guttural animal sob that only the unluckiest amongst us have heard shred a human being’s vocal chords. All she had done when she heard the news was drop a pitcher of milk, her hands went slack and the pitcher disappeared from her grasp, as if it were jumping into the oppressive oblivion, which seemed to envelope everything around her. She collapsed into a nearby chair and as the men in the room talked, yelled, spit, and cursed, she stared at the jagged shards of glass and the white liquid, hearing no detail. She reflexively felt compelled to drop down to her knees and clean the mess up, but the very idea of actually doing it made her want to scream and vomit at the same time.

After a long while, Tereza finally stood to focus on the room. Her face drained of color, whiter than that milk, an alabaster void. Emil and Gabriel rushed to her side, ready to comfort her, yet she only needed one thing: an answer. Her voice was hoarse and monotone, “Who killed my boy?”

The Death Rite

For as steeped in tradition as this entire act was, it was ironic that the commencement of the death rite had no specific ritual attached to it. You simply and unceremoniously started walking to the houses you desired to visit.

Gabriel and Emil each held one end of the makeshift stretcher, which they had cobbled together out of a few blankets, and some wooden poles they salvaged from an old barn earlier in the season. It was crude, but they had no other option on such short notice. It would have to suffice, because they could not devote any more time to delays; people were expecting them.

Their first stop would be the Gregor house. Marta and Hamish Gregor were the parents of two children the same ages as Gabriel and Andrei. Their daughter, Sara, had been Andrei’s sweetheart. The two had only been dating for a month, but Andrei seemed quite taken with the plainspoken girl. He was always running off to be with her, always buying her trinkets. Emil and Tereza had seen it with other girls before and they had always expected to see it again with still other girls. However, in this case, fate had now created a lifelong bond between these people.

Hamish must have been watching through the window because he opened the door before Emil knocked. “Come in... dear Father in heaven, come in out of the cold with your boy.”

Tereza, Emil and Gabriel entered the house, the two men carrying Andrei’s body on the stretcher. Marta and Hamish both stood over Andrei’s body, heads bowed, silently reciting a prayer. Hamish placed his hand on Andrei’s forehead and told him to be at peace.

“We’re sorry for your loss, Andrei was a wonderful person. We didn’t know him for very long, but we quickly grew to love him.”

Hamish motioned over to a large blanket on the floor – this was customary. When the deceased’s body was brought into a house, you would lie them down in order to drink around them. You would never lay the body directly on the floor; there would always be some sort of blanket, some makeshift bed, something available to cradle the body before it was set into the earth for eternity.

 Hamish had drinks pre-poured and he placed a glass in everyone’s hand. Hamish raised his glass in toast, “To Andrei, a perfect gentleman and a lovely addition to our extended family, who was taken from us all too soon.”    

  Everyone downed their drinks and Marta quickly passed in front of the crowd, re-filling the glasses. Marta then gave a toast. “To Andrei: a young man who made our daughter Sara sing with happiness. May God bless his soul as he sits beside Him in heaven for all eternity.”

Again, everyone downed their glasses and again Marta promptly refilled them. This continued for an hour, until Hamish suggested they go see Sara.

“Poor Sara is devastated, as you can imagine. She loved dear Andrei so intensely. You should visit her after you leave us. You can take a shortcut there if you go the back way from our house and cut across the field. Keep north for two kilometers and you will come to the tree line directly behind her house.”

Emil stood and shook Hamish’s hand. “Thank you, Hamish, thank you for your warming condolences. We will go and see Sara straight away.”

Gabriel and Tereza both gave their thanks as well, and then Emil and his only remaining son hoisted Andrei up from the floor and started toward Sara’s house. Tereza took the lead holding a lantern aloft to create a narrow beam of light they could follow through the grey and white woods.

It had snowed heavily the previous day and the walk to Sara’s house took much longer than they had anticipated. Crunching through the deep snow was hypnotic to Gabriel. The sounds of cracking through the surface of the frozen covering, their boots sinking into the powder underneath and the sucking sound of pulling them out looped ceaselessly. They did not stop to rest.

Emil broke the numbing ambience of their trip, “Sara’s parents are nice people.”

Gabriel scoffed, “They’re ostentatious.”

“How’s that, Gabe?” Emil asked.

 “Every story they shared about Andrei centered around them somehow, what they were doing for Andrei – how generous and how kind they were to take Andrei there, to show him this, to give him that... it was grotesque. It was exasperating to bear their thinly veiled tales of self-aggrandizing shit. I wanted to spit up their drinks onto the floor, I was sick at the idea of having to accept anything they were offering me.” Gabriel explained.

Emil stared ahead into the dim void of snow and trees, “You are very perceptive, Gabriel.”

They came to a clearing in the woods and the snow on the ground was disturbed, numerous footprints and wheel marks from carriages decorated the surroundings. Gabriel stopped in his tracks, “Mother, wait. This is where they found his body.”

Tereza directed her lantern light onto the scenery. The family stood in place and contemplated the disturbed snow. The location was sickeningly ordinary - just a random section of woods, nothing special. Gabriel had no good cause to be upset that his brother’s body was not dumped somewhere more spectacular, yet for some reason it stoked his anger. “Someone just left him out here to be picked over by animals.”

Emil placed his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, “We still have a long night ahead of us, we should keep moving. It’s getting colder.”

They soon came upon Sara’s house. Since they had taken the shortcut, they approached the small house from behind. Gabriel noticed a wheelbarrow with no significant amount of snow accumulated upon its surface, its bright red color cutting through the grey and white wash of the winter night. Every surface that could hold it had at least two or three inches of snow piled upon it, except for that wheelbarrow. There were tire tracks and footprints leading around to the front of the house and out to the tree line. For some reason, the whole scene struck Gabriel as odd and it nagged at him.

Tereza knocked, yet there was no answer, she knocked again – still no answer. The firelight danced behind the curtained window and it certainly seemed like someone was home. Gabriel shifted his weight, holding the makeshift stretcher with one hand and quickly and loudly pounded his fist upon the door. Finally, Sara opened it.

“Oh, dear family... come, bring my sweet Andrei in.” Sara motioned for them to enter and held the door open wide. There was a pile of laundry sitting on the floor and a large pot of water, simmering over the fire inside. “I was just preparing to clean the dishes, but that can wait.” Sara looked the family over giving a consolatory frown to each person, one by one. She hugged Emil first, then Tereza and finally came to Gabriel. “Gabriel, he loved you so much, you were his best friend in the world, how distraught you must be.”

“I am.” Gabriel replied, “We’ve just come from your parent’s house. Do you have drinks?”

Sara looked confused, and then it dawned on her, “The death rite, of course. I have only experienced it once, when I was a very young girl, please excuse my ignorance. Let me bring you all something to warm you on this viciously cold night. You can place dear, Andrei there.” She pointed to a large table near the fireplace.

As Sara procured the glasses and a bottle, Gabriel noticed that nowhere in her cramped little kitchen area were there any dirty dishes. “I thought you said you were preparing to clean the dishes, yet I see none piled about.”

“Gabriel!” Tereza barked, “it is no concern of ours how a lady keeps her own house.”

Sara raised her hand in protest, “Oh, dear Mother, it is quite all right. Gabriel - and all of us – are deeply fraught with confusion and pain right now. All of our heads are spinning trying to make sense of this day. What I meant to say was that I had just finished cleaning the dishes as you knocked upon the door. I’m going to launder my linens now”

Gabriel scoffed, “Those fraught with pain rarely see to banal chores.”

“Gabriel, please do not think ill of me, I only do this banal work to occupy my mind. I feel the mourning process overcoming me and I’m not as strong as you, I need to attempt to hide away and misdirect the painful emotions I feel.” Sara handed Gabriel a glass of liquor and continued, “This will be difficult for us all”

Gabriel took the drink and downed it in one gulp. Sara handed Emil and Tereza their drinks and then refilled Gabriel’s glass. Once again, Gabriel downed his immediately. That fire in his spine was flaring up again.

“Who killed my brother, Sara?” Gabriel stared her down and she looked away.

“I wish I knew,” Sara replied, “so that the vile beast may be brought to swift justice.”

Gabriel waved his glass at Sara and she refilled it again. “When did you last see him?”

Sara thought this over for a bit, then, “It was yesterday afternoon, he came by for lunch. We ate and then my brother stopped by to see me. Dear, I...” Sara trailed off.

“What is it?” Emil approached Sara and softly inquired. “You seem as though you’ve just thought of something.”

“Well,” Sara started, “it’s probably nothing, but I just had a horrid thought. You see, my brother, Anton had always found himself at odds with poor Andrei. For some unknown reason, there was great tension between the two of them. Yesterday, when Anton stopped by, he and Andrei seemed to be continuing an argument they had started some time before. They were both exceptionally upset. They began pushing each other, and as I stepped in between them to act as peacekeeper, Anton shouted that he wanted to... Oh, I cannot even say it... it is too terrible.  

Emil placed a gentle hand on Sara’s shoulder, “Go ahead, Sara. What did Anton say?”

Sara looked to Tereza, as if she was afraid to say it in her presence. “He said... ‘I’m going to bash your skull in’ and Andrei replied saying he wished he would try. I was not able to calm them down and Anton stormed out, shortly thereafter, Andrei left, saying he was going home. That was the last time anyone saw him. I told you – it is too terrible to think of! My dear brother could not have done such a thing... could he?”

Gabriel snatched the bottle from the table and began to drain it without bothering to pour it into his glass first. Tereza, tried to pull the bottle away from him, yet Gabriel angrily snapped it away from her feeble grasp. Emil shot Gabriel a look that shamed him, yet it was not enough to cut through the inebriated fog he was determined to shroud himself within. If the death rite called for him to drink, he would do just that. He would honor his brother in any way he could. For now though, his mind raced with images of Anton smashing Gabriel’s head in. Slurring his words, he spat out the question - “Where does Anton live?”

Sara was happy to provide the information, “Right off of the lake, on the north side, in the small house that has a broken dock. However, please, Gabriel – do not jump to conclusions. Perhaps you should talk to the rest of the people you plan to visit, see if anything comes to light. Give yourself some time to think and calm down.”

“I’m perfectly calm!” Gabriel shouted, “I’m simply trying to mourn my brother. We should go now.”

Emil grabbed the bottle from Gabriel and set it back down, out of his reach. He stood and embraced Sara in a hug, “Thank you for your hospitality, my dear. We will see you at the burial, I’m sure.”

Sara thanked Emil and then pulled Teresa into a hug, “Dear, Mother, please take care.”

Tereza nodded politely, yet said nothing in return.

Sara implored Gabriel, “Gabriel, please, grant my brother the benefit of doubt... the poor soul has had enough trouble in his life.” 

With that, Emil and Gabriel picked up the stretcher and they all headed back out into the cold dim, grey.

After Sara shut the door she returned to the pile of linens piled up against the wall. She opened a tightly bound sheet to reveal a mess of dried blood, and a large, cast-iron ladle with bits of skin and hair stuck to it. She placed the ladle into the pot of boiling water over the fire, then balled the sheets together and threw them onto the logs. Turning everything over onto itself with the poker, she stoked the flames and watched the sheets burn away to ashes. She grabbed the nearby bottle of liquor and took a long draw.   

Lex talionis

The family visited four other houses in quick succession, drinking and sharing rushed pleasantries, all the while making their way closer to the lake. Luca K. and Stefan R. both spoke of a public argument between Andrei and Anton they had witnessed a few days prior. Others also spoke about a rift between the two; it seemed to be common gossip amongst those who knew both parties. Some even suggested a twisted love triangle between Sara, her brother and Andrei. Gabriel’s anger grew as he continued to drink and as they went along with the tradition, so too did Tereza and Emil begin to succumb to darker thoughts as the alcohol took control of their emotions. Eventually, they exhausted their acquaintances and had visited everyone they could think of that knew Andrei. Now, well drunk, they found themselves at the lakefront and Gabriel pointed out the house with the broken dock. “That’s where the bastard lives.” He began charging ahead, almost yanking Emil along on the other end of the stretcher. Emil pulled back and asked Gabriel to stop.

“Gabriel, we must think this through, we cannot just go charging into his house.” Emil implored Tereza, with a look to help him convince Gabriel. She offered no such support.

Tereza looked at Emil blankly, “I think we should confront him while we have the chance.”

Gabriel grinned and tugged at the stretcher, “I agree with Mother, let’s see what he does when we show up unannounced.”

The house was dark – the sun would be up soon and Anton was surely sound asleep. They approached and Gabriel handed his end of the stretcher to Tereza, and then opened the front door as quietly as he could. They entered the house and saw Anton, asleep in his small bed in front of a dying fire. Tereza and Emil set the stretcher down on a table and all three family members stood over Anton as he slept. Gabriel picked up a hammer from the mantle and stood over Anton, turning the tool over in his hand and looking at the red glow it reflected from the smoldering coals in the fireplace. The red of the coals made Gabriel think of splitting Anton’s skull open while he slept, yet, he resisted. He wanted Anton to know exactly what was coming and why, he wanted him to look into the faces of his father and mother and see Andrei lying on the stretcher so that he was forced to bear witness to the family he had destroyed. Gabriel gave Anton a sharp kick in the ribs and he woke in a start, clutching his side and wincing in pain. 

Gabriel stood over him, hammer in hand, “Good morning, Anton. I hope you do not mind that we let ourselves in. We need to talk...”

Anton looked into the faces surrounding him –disoriented by sleep, he still was not fully conscious of the situation.

Gabriel grabbed Anton by his nightshirt and pulled him up into a sitting position, he waved the hammer in front of his face, “You need to tell us about your relationship with Andrei.”

Anton looked over and saw the stretcher, it all made a sudden horrible sense to him. “Oh, God... Andrei. I... I never touched him.”

“According to everyone we have spoken with, including your sister, you and Andrei had a highly strained relationship. Some may say, violent.” Gabriel swung the hammer in an arc toward Anton, stopping short of connecting with his head, to punctuate the word ‘violent’. “What did you use to bash his skull in?” Gabriel felt dizzy and he could tell he was slurring his words; the alcohol in his system had taken full control. It was too warm in Anton’s house and it smelled sour. Gabriel felt sick and wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

Anton raised his hands in surrender, “I did not harm, Andrei. It was my sister, was it not, who planted this notion in your mind?”

Emil leaned forward to answer, “We talked with your sister – and many others. Everyone spoke of an irate tension between you and Andrei. The implication is clear.”

Anton began to panic, “I promise you, it is manufactured. Sara created the rift between Andrei and I. On more than one occasion I attempted to broach the subject with him, yet the fiction that Sara had created for Andrei to hear had taken hold and he dismissed me angrily. It is true, we argued in public, yet it was only because I was desperate to work out the misunderstanding between us.”

“You had clear motive and Andrei never had any other enemies, it is as plain as can be. You killed my brother,” Gabriel grabbed Anton’s shirt and shook him like a rag doll.

“No! This is my sister’s undertaking! Sara has always harbored a sick fascination with me and when she takes suitors into her life, she attempts to create a rift between them and I. She wants me to fight with them; she wants them to hate me because she cannot bring herself to do so. She tells them terrible, deceptive things about me and then goads them to confront me. This has occurred repeatedly, ever since we were children – her, setting her friends against me out of malicious jealousy.”

“Jealousy born from what?” Emil inquired.

“She is incensed at my ability to see her as a sibling and not as a woman. Sara is not right in her mind... she has professed her love for me since she was a child. Through the years, this twisted view has only grown more perverted and repulsive. She throws herself at me and when I reject her advances, she creates horrid situations such as this as a form of punishment.”

“I have heard enough! You are the sick one, blaming your sister for Andrei’s death – how despicable. As if a small woman could overpower my brother and crush his skull with such force!” Gabriel pointed toward Andrei’s body on the stretcher, “His head was caved in by a man; a cowardly man, one who brashly attempts to place culpability onto a woman instead of admitting his transgression. The jury has reached a verdict, Anton – you have been found guilty.” Gabriel raised the hammer to the heavens.

Emil lunged at Anton, wrapping his arms around him and holding him tightly in a bear hug as Gabriel struck him on the crown of his head. He hit him three times in quick succession, snapping the hammer back and forth as if he were driving a nail into a board.

Tereza cried out and grabbed Gabriel’s arm, “Stop! I believe him.” However, it was too late. Anton slumped back onto his bed, his head wet and misshapen. Tereza sobbed and Emil stood over Anton’s body with a sudden look of confusion flushed across his face. Gabriel felt sick, he rushed out the door and into the cold.

Hunched over, with his hands on his knees, Gabriel heaved in and out, trying to keep himself from being sick. The world spun, and watching his hot breath spew into the frigid air, he felt as though he was trying to purge abstruse demons from within his body.

Emil approached him from behind, “Gabriel, what have we done? Your mother continues to suggest that Anton was telling the truth and that we have made a terrible mistake.” Gabriel said nothing, Emil pushed. “You yourself had an awful impression of Sara - could it be, Gabriel? Could Anton have been innocent of what we accused him?”

Poenitentia

It had been three days since the family had buried Andrei... three days since they stumbled out of that lake house in a daze, carrying Andrei’s body through the encroaching morning light to the cemetery... three days since they rolled Anton’s corpse off the broken dock and into the lake.

The news around town was that Anton had been found murdered; his body washed up on the east shore, his head beaten in. People suggested there was a killer on the loose, the same killer who had murdered Andrei in similar fashion. Gabriel, Emil and Tereza knew better, yet they made no mention of it. That night, they congregated in front of the fire at Emil and Tereza’s house in silence. Their usual proclivity for discussion muted by shared truths too awful to speak, the shared regret of actions that smothered every other topic in their lives. Their youngest son was dead, and now, due to their inability to accept the unjust nature of life, the family that remained was dead as well. They had violated their world and now nothing could ever return to the way it was before.

Gabriel could no longer endure suffering in silence with his, now, unfamiliar family. After a few drinks the unspoken communion was too much to bear, so he decided to leave and avoid the distressing situation altogether.

Gabriel went into town, bought a bottle of fine liquor and set it on a tray near his front door with four glasses. He also placed Anton’s hammer, which he had kept, on the tray as well. Then he made a fire and sat in front of it, idly poking and turning the logs while the sky changed colors as hours ticked away.

Late that night, as Gabriel sat awake, there was a knock at the door. It was Anton’s family, carrying his body in tow. Anton’s brother, father and mother were obviously, quite drunk. Sara was not with them. Gabriel welcomed them into the house, shut the door, and presented the tray. “I’m sorry for your loss...”