My buddy and I, we were coming back from Vegas, both a little inebriated, both very tired, very hungry, and needing a bed. But Russ was too fixated on getting back home, he wanted to be with his girl. Felt that going to Vegas betrayed her and he couldn’t do with that. So we found ourselves heading up route 66 and happened to be hitting New Mexico before, well before it came.
The thing is, New Mexico has spirits, and the blood of many lost in the soil. I was well aware of this and crossed my fingers and toes; Russ, not so much. He was a type of ‘I need proof’ son of a b****.
I knew better though and kept my foot on the pedal as often as I could. I didn’t look in my mirrors, but I did tell Russ to keep an eye out, in case the cops wanted to tag us. We drove on.
Dusk was quickly approaching. Russ needed to piss, I was getting hungry and there was rumor Lottaburger was only miles up the road. I shouldn’t have, I know that now, but I digress, we stopped for a quick bite and filled up on gas. I drained myself after grubbing and told Russ he’d better do the same if he knew better. He didn’t, mind you.
We jumped back in the truck and headed up Route 66. He couldn’t help himself though, Russ started crooning for his Mrs. Lamenting in his woes of his betrayal to her he started blaming my impulse as a toxic trait. I told him to shut up and keep an eye out, I was going 20 over already and wanted to get home too, knowing something was in the air.
We continued driving, turned up the radio and enjoyed the winter chill in the air as we drove on.
We talked of our ladies, of his guilt for Vegas, my hankering for another drink, and the wanting of a warm bed. We both moaned at the words bed and started laughing loudly when Russ went white like a sheet and stared straight out the front of the truck.
I asked what had happened, he just shook his head and leaned forward meaning to crane his neck away from anything but the front of the truck. I had a eerie feeling that we were being watched.
I refused to look at the mirrors, and kept my eyes straight following the example set by Russ.
What is it? I asked. Shook his head, and maintained sealed lips. I began to scream at him to tell me what it is. And I s*** you’re not I swear I started seeing tears slow down his cheeks. I took to the looking at the mirror, my foot pushed through the pedal I had every intention of making it home alive.
What happened to be behind us was a white dog, standing on its hind legs running and almost matching speed with us. My blood curdled, my skin felt as though it was peeling off and I took began to weep. I couldn’t let off the gas. And seeing the large dog like a feral monstrous beast barring down on us had me entirety tight and quivering.
What do we do? Russ asked screaming, what the f*** are we going to do? I didn’t have an answer, I had no idea what to do I looked at him shook my head, press my foot as hard as I can against the floor of the truck and didn’t look back.
We drove like bats out of hell in record time making it back home within hours.
Russ and I both looked at each other once we pulled up to the house, look behind us, and saw nothing. We sat there dumbfounded, absolutely sure that we had both seen a giant white dog running on its hind legs. And even still as I tell this story my gut sinks, my skin crawls, my blood curdles, because the fact of the matter is it was an omen. That white dog was the worst omen when could ever face. Death.
I told Russ it’s nothing, told him it’s just the internet, I told him it was our imagination, playing tricks on us in our drunken stupor.
Whoa, ever take to looking back, looking at the steps made before, statements made promises promised? Been wanting to do the art in the poetry as well as really anything of the sort of Art that I produce here, I’ve been wanting to do that everyday. But I then take to being here, being present being in the moment with my wife and my son and our puppies and life I really really enjoying my creative writing class I am doing it’s an elective but still it’s something that I’m massively pumped for and I am sorry but at the same time I’m not though, because, well, I like where I’m at. I feel safe where this is.
It’s like the prompt the other day asking about vacation. My best vacations aren’t ever a planned and intended one, it’s the moments I enjoy in that moment with the ones I Love. And I hope the memory resonates still and always.
This is a worry, but I digress, that’s another conversation for another time.
I’m tired and though I should be wise and keep my lips shut, I’ve decided I’m not going to do that anymore. If I have a question I’m going to ask a question regardless about painful it may be, regardless of what it may allude to, or give light to. I’m tired and I don’t know about you but doesn’t it get old? Doesn’t the b******* language that more curtails the actual situation and manages to even avoid the nuance so there’s no implication of what’s actually happening, you end up having an assumption, you have anger, and then you’re just done.
Mind you the assumption isn’t always there however there are times when it’s hard not to assume because why else not? Why wouldn’t I go to that thought? Why wouldn’t I assume what could be a possibility in the situation where the question lies?
Questions, so many questions, life is a question though isn’t it? Laughter so much LOL hahaha. Good night all.
C’est La Vie
Good night and good morning, good morning and good night.
May the day be blessed and the night a wonderful splendor of dream and wild bliss
Thank you for the repeated likes and coming to the site. Thank you for the support, and thank you for being you.
† These are the recordings of Joel D. Braunagh. Patient #19-374222. Case #9119 Det. Milton # 617
Date/Time – May 14th, 2009, 8:00 p.m.
Pt. #19-374222 J.D.Braunagh
-+- Evening Joel. Once again, for general purposes, I am Detective Rachel Milton. This is a recording of Joel’s discussions with me, over a divulging of details about the box, the altercation between Michael Braunagh; the brother.
-+- Night three Joel. Are you ready? Can we do this tonight? At least the box, please?
— I already told you I’d tell you, I’ll share everything. It’s going back and tracing the steps that knocks the f*** out of me. Leaving me completely drained and more than frustrated, it’s more than agonizing to separate that frustration with the law and the obvious situation that has me here. But of course, that’s not sensical to any of you, is it? But I already confessed to everything. I did it sorrowfully but willfully, taking the accountability for the loss of all three because it’s my hands that created the situation. It’s bad enough that I don’t get to put them in the ground!
-+- Joel as a matter of fact, its a legal right for you, they’ll let you go to each funeral. But, we need to get this documented; we need to know, like I keep telling you. Deal?
— Well that is a horse of a different f****** color ain’t it? Not that it was our plan to begin with, burying that is. I think we both wanted to become ash, like what we came from. At least, *sigh* it wasn’t set, not yet, we hadn’t even bought plots yet. Sorry, (sucks on teeth), I digress sorry, god I f****** miss her.
‡ Joel grabs at the nape of his neck and rocks back and forth for a moment grimacing at the tile beneath his obnoxious orange gel slides.
-+- I’m sorry Joel. Truly but we do need to know what happened. What was it that happened after Luca died? (I pause for a moment, waiting to see that register, he doesn’t stir, doesn’t blink, or really pay mind), What happened, aside from the magazine collecting Joel, you’re a toy maker, the most you’ve done is what? Wind-em-up toys or pullbacks is that what they call these?
‡ I pull out a small plastic duck with wheels from out of my blazer pocket. I pull it back pressing against the surface of the floor table desk and let go. I do this, position it to tap against his prison shoe, and when it hits it, he looks down, looks at me, sighs heavily nodding his head.
— Yes and no, the person who made the ducks actually, her name is Jessica Stewart, I wasn’t ever really a big fan of her craft but we worked in the same tier level.
— Anyway, no, I did more than just the simple machine type of toy, we had a production line that was similar to magnetic tiles but made sounds, and we were in the process of an interlocking block system that was definitely going to bring us to court with Lego, but I guess it doesn’t matter. (He grimaces again, shakes his head with a face that looks of disgust.) But no I…I did action figures, I did the molding, I did some robotics but on a minute and basic level and no I…I…just happened to stop, I didn’t do anything for a while. You, *sigh*, I don’t know how to put it because I didn’t just lose my boy Rachel, I lost the fire of my life. It wasn’t until after Luca’s death, that had me realize truths to what Celeste and I were. We became a stagnant mass of gelatin together and alone. She loathed me and I the same with her but then cowered back with a loving embrace because we were alone. What with him passing away there was such a resounding loss in the both of us…that my wife and I, we couldn’t, she couldn’t escape. It was more like being shot into space knowing no one would catch us…we were just alone, together, of course.
— But, it’s not the same…it’s not the same. It was never going to be the same and this wasn’t just killing Celeste, it was wreaking havoc on the mental health of our baby girl who now, had nothing.
‡ Joel grabs the small duck, pulls back a distance further than expected and lets go of the toy, leaving the duck sailing toward my feet and under my chair. He gives a meek smile. And continued…
— We were both well aware of Zappy; the little five years old and her curious mind. She had a bit of an inclination of what actually happened though and just knowing that her brother was gone had deeply resonated within her and Celeste and I didn’t come to help build her up. We were too busy inside ourselves. But we did tell her that Luca went for the long sleep, she understood but kept saying he’d come back. That was until the ‘sealing‘ happened.
-+- The sealing? Can you elaborate…you know I’ll have more questions to that Joel, what is that, the sealing?
— Relax, I’m getting to it.
— Promise
‡ Joel smiles, he’s starting to get moderately comfortable.
— But as parents, we tried to…we carried it as best as we could but we stayed silent, we had become those that loved one another indefinitely, but somehow allowed the grief to eviscerate the idea of anything else but loss and the idea of Luca not being here. I lost myself, I was put on suspension with my job and started letting my team down, my activity at work severely lessened where I started running behind with everything. I started losing weight, even went so far to malnourish her due being blind. That’s how negligent and calous we were. But then thankfully Michael came.
-+- Okay, so your brother was involved, your brother was a happy extension of the family and obviously had helped, with what I’m assuming, all of it?
— Yeah exactly, he took me down into the basement and saw the stacks of magazines, copper wires, more metal sheets, bolts, crystal shards, more wire, and metal. Oh, and piled up earth magnets that were likely causing everything above us to go on the fritz and just held me.
‡ Joel let out a heavy sigh and visible tears were falling from his chin. They’d occasionally pool and hang for a moment in his meek goatee and fall soaking the gels wrapped around his feet
— I let everything out, I melted in his arms and lost the ability to stand, and I think Michael knew, he knew how far gone Celeste and I had gone with just the entirety of our loss. So him showing up when he did, well it was bound to happen, I’m grateful it did, but at the same time, sorry that it did and I don’t get to tell him that.
-+- How long did he stay with you?
— A couple months until he thought he was seeing that we were getting back on our feet, he did help me keep my job, but he had also had some issue with what I was trying to make in the basement.
-+- The box, okay so Michael had nothing to do with the box?
— No, not a f****** chance, no, he thought what I was trying to do was idiotic, and thought I was being more than a fool, I don’t know, obviously he wasn’t wrong, look at where we’re at. What I’m f****** wearing, these are god damn jellies on my feet. This is ridiculous, I get it, and I know why, I’m just venting for a moment.
-+- That’s okay, I get it. Honest. -+- Not wanting to be somewhere when it’s needed but if the opportunity arose, you’d be gone…trust me, Joel I get it.
— Yeah, okay Rachel, okay. Anyhow, back to Michael, he was seeing that we were okay but there was something off…something dauntingly trepidatious, especially for Celeste. Sadly neither of us saw…‡ Joel inhales sharply through clenched teeth…I don’t know how we missed it. She must be a hell of a thespian.
— Anyhow Michael was seeing that she couldn’t handle the second floor hallway on her way to the Master bedroom, it went right by Luca’s open door and it wrecked her every f****** day, every moment that called for going anywhere near, which was always. She had become frail, nearly a different woman, her eyes sunken in, her cheeks shallow and pale, eyes near glossed and she looked more than haggard. Celeste was becoming a broke form of what she once was and all we thought was something so simple. How do we close the room off?
— Brick and mortar was the answer and we started the next day, for a brief moment it looked like a scene from The Cask of Amontillado, brick and mortar, brick and mortar. We had the door and a good three feet in sealed up and off and drywalled over that leaving us an extended hallway as though it had always been there.
-+- And did this help?
— Mmm, for a bit Detective, maybe a month, maybe two, enough that I finished the box.
† These are the recordings of Joel D. Braunagh. Patient #19-374222. Case #9119 Det. Milton # 617
Discussions encase “the box”, admittance of guilt to victims: Brother -Michael Braunagh, Wife – Celeste Braunagh, Daughter – Zappy Braunagh
Date/Time – May 13th, 2009, 8:00 p.m.
Pt. #19-374222 J.D.Braunagh
† Pt. #19-374222 J.D. Braunagh was given 05.12.2009 for Temporary Leave upon approval from D.A. Kingsley with police detail to coroner facility and grave site of both Celeste Braunagh and Zaporah Braunagh for funeral services.
Discussion 2
-+-Good Evening Mr. Braunagh, again, as a formality, this conversation and all details will be recorded and held to the courts for delibierstions on sentencing. I, again, am Detective Rachel Milton and will be having today’s inquiries and details scribed and recorded. Now, may I get you a pack of smokes, a pop, maybe some coffee? Anything Mr. Braunagh?
‡Braunagh gives a heavy sigh, scoffs, rolls his head over his shoulders and nape of neck, shakes his head.
-+-I heard you had the privilege of joining your family yesterday and sharing some goodbyes. How are you holding up Braunagh?
‡Silence, shoes shuffling, a heavy sigh. Braunagh whispers incoherently.
-+-Would you speak up Mr. Braunagh.
‡ Braunagh lifts up two fingers, assuming a notion to quiet the talking.
— Detective Milton, if I have to ask you again to call me Joel, I’ll never give you a thing, doesn’t matter what the judge, D.A, or your captain ‘Surly‘ says. Do you have any idea the amount of isolation my entirety has dealt with?
-+-I didn’t mean to offend, my apologies Joel. I do have to ask though how was their isolation if your family was in the house with you during…well (hmmm), elaborate if you can Joel.
— No, I’ll get to that, to the box, the evidence, all the content agreed with the department and courts. I had assumed you wanted me to answer the other question about saying goodbye.
‡ Braunagh quits, shuffles his feet and stands up and starts to pace.
— Sorry, is this allowed? Me walking around?
-+-Yes, Joel, stay behind the table, the cameras are on too, as long as you stay composed, rational, and don’t give an excuse to who’s watching from there.
‡ I issued a finger toward the camera above me, Braunagh nods with acceptance and understanding. Smiles and continues.
— Saying goodbye was, it was a weighted ordeal detective. You ever have to say goodbye to a loved one?
— The thing is Detective, yesterday was more for me confirming what I had done. I had seen the condition they were both in at the house not but four days ago. But, they had already unraveled, I’d already known, I knew I was losing them every minute I couldn’t get that f****** box controlled, or contained.
-+-Okay, thank you for your honesty, so you had already said goodbye? But just the other day, the 11th, you run this whole line how you didn’t get to say goodbye. How can you say one thing and then confirm with another statement today setting a stage for falsehoods? What was that for Joel? We need a 100% type of relaying the information, everything’s recorded Joel, you asking one thing the other day readjusting a statement to fit into your needs later on not remembering the things you had said prior are just going to set you up for failure with me. You need to be 100% with every word you share, every single bit is going to be weighed measured and will be the determining factor of how long you’re behind those bars. You do know that Mr. Braunagh, right?
‡ Braunagh scowls and shows a meek smile of disgust.
-+-Sorry, Joel, you know right? You have to be able to confidently relay all details, to tell me the whole truth, okay?
— Yes, yes, a thousand f****** times Rachel, yes! I’ve already agreed to the entirety of the deal, I will give you all the details.
-+-Okay then, so where would you like to start Joel. The other day you had shared the loss of your son. I couldn’t even be able to find a way to understand that kind of a loss, especially such a harrowing and terrible way in losing him, I am so, again, very, very sorry about that Joel. What was it that happened after?
— I’ll tell you this Rachel, if it wasn’t for our little one, Zappy, I would have ran back up that hill and jumped off to end it all. But I know I couldn’t have left Celeste like that. Can I assume you’ve already looked at the files for that incident with my son?
-+-Yes, Joel. And before you ask, yes, all evidence points to signs of a natural incident to the cause of your son’s death. I truly am sorry for your loss. Most of us at the department don’t think you’re a killer Joel, I know I don’t. Being a mother and having my baby, there isn’t anything in my gut that tells me you’re a bad person, that’s why I’m the one here, I begged my captain to give me this detail, I had a gut feeling that there was something we were missing, so please continue Joel.
— Celeste was at home was happy when he died. It was a little dad and son adventure up in Beulah, we were collecting butterflies for his collection. Those f****** butterflies.
-+-How do you mean?
— After I called 911, after the police and EMT crew, after his body was put on the gurney, I was put in the back of a police squad car and driven back home. I knocked on my f****** door not with my son’s hand in mine but with a box of fluttering butterflies and a cop behind me some really hanging his head down. I couldn’t f****** look at her. My heart could barely stand being there. I had still had the blood on me his blood, my hands were caked with it, and the look on her face was in absolute horror. She wailed, screamed to the f****** skies, and made sure that I felt every bit of pain that she was dealing with. It didn’t matter that the cops were there, it didn’t matter that the lights were still dancing on the house, it didn’t matter that my grief was right there with her, she started throwing her hands atop my head, my face, my chest and everything of me she could wallop on. I wrap my arms around her, begged for her forgiveness and we fell to the floor together in a heap while the cops tried to handle the chaos of my house.
— I knew then, I knew that she had hated me, the moment that door opened and my son wasn’t in my hand standing there as well, I knew there was no way she could ever forgive my failure and saving her baby. Even still the pit that is my heart remains as empty as it was that day, I know it’s not fair, I knew it wasn’t fair to my daughter, I knew it wasn’t fair to my baby, my f****** wife, I failed all of them, the s*** has a dad who couldn’t keep his hands on his f****** son to make sure he didn’t fall had just lost any respect, any love, any regard to being a part of our family. I completely failed. F***, how long am I going to have to do this before it stops hurting?
‡ Braunagh pulls a Djarum, a small cigar, from behind his ear, strikes a match, pulls at the flame, and starts to inhale the clove scented smoke and continues.
— Sorry Rachel…just need to breathe, just breathe Joel.
— The police had us sign some forms, and gave us a day or two to settle after our son’s passing. Next we went to the coroner, that day that day too I wanted to die, there was such a guilt, there was such this tremendous and excruciating weight in all of the failure, all of the action not taken that led to us being there at the Coroner’s office, I did everything I could to keep my lips shut, my jaw tight and just stood behind her, behind Celeste in case she was going to faint, or in case any more chaos was to come from her or the both of us. It wasn’t easy then and even going over it now I can still see her face, see the tears flooding down, collecting at her chin, the snot that blended with all of it and all she wanted to do was kiss her baby. All she wanted what’s the fill that warmth again from him, and I can I can still see your hands with this tremor of a shake trying, just trying so so painfully to touch what is now about as cold as the metal he was laying on and she trembled, Rachel she f****** troubled so much. And I didn’t know what to do, I had no idea what in the flying hell was to be done to help rectify this? There wasn’t anything Rachel, sorry Detective.
-+-Would you like a minute Joel? I can step out if needed.
— No, no thank you, I just want to get this done.
— That first day after she saw him and confirmed the horrors for herself, was one of the worst days of my life, and the week, weeks, the weeks and months that came after were no more better. She refused to close his door, refused to hide it, and eventually begged me to seal the door and replace it with the wall that essentially created a tomb of a past that neither of us would ever be able to return to.
— I did exactly that, I listened to the wishes, called my brother Michael after ignoring his calls since our Luca died. But, then after the funeral, it was a lot harder to ignore him, a lot harder to shut the door and recoil in the grief, because Michael was a very involved family member, he was Uncle Michael and we let him share that grief. I did have him help me seal up the door, he too like myself wasn’t a fan of the idea, but I think both Michael and I knew it was the only way we could have Celeste find some type of composure, some type of peace even if it was more of a falsehood than actual peace.
-+-What about your daughter, where was she during all of this?
— This is something I’m not proud of, because of the good amount of years that were between Luca and Zappy, we had told Zappy that Luca had gone away for a very long trip. And yes she did go to the funeral with us, but I still feel that at the age she was at during that time the understanding of loss just for my wife was too much so sharing that grief and loss with zappy, I feel that both the voice as parents wanted to keep her protected, so we lied, lied about Luca leaving on a trip.
-+-She didn’t ask about the door? She didn’t wonder where her brother’s room had gone to? I would assume that any kid could see very obvious things were happening, why? Why was that your take why did you shut her out in such, such a way?
— I don’t f****** know, God damn it Rachel you seriously think I hadn’t gone through all of this, I haven’t questioned myself, my actions, every f****** day I don’t know. I wish I do and God how I wish there were so many f****** things I didn’t take to heart, didn’t take into action, and yes I failed my daughter just about as much as I failed Luca I’m well aware of that Rachel and I will forever question why I agreed with my wife and keeping her distant. And in all honesty I’m pretty sure she knew, Uncle Michael was a pretty conscientious one, constantly ragging on both Celeste and I to fix it with Zapp. Pretty sure he was the one who told her, and tried to tell her to keep it quiet that he was the one who told. But in all honesty I think he meant well, it did eventually make it easier down the road for Celeste, at least I’d like to think that it did.
— After his funeral everything went quiet. The chaos…it’s not that it stopped, it’s not that the turmoil within drifted or evanesced into the drink, it just became a part of us. A couple months after the funeral her night terrors started, the blood curdling screams and howlings that permeated through our doors down the neighborhood streets and echoed, affecting the entire neighborhood. And I needed to find an outlet, whether it was an outlet for us, whether it was something that could be used for just her I need to find a conduit that could be associated with Luca. So I did research, research, reading, so much f****** reading so much tinkering and tailoring to pulling apart machines and breaking down old game sets and I just lost myself in trying to find my family again.
— And this is where the isolation began, I shut the basement door and let Celeste take care of Zappy, having no idea of the detriment that I was creating, of the toxicity and spoiling of my little darling that I had just devised, thinking that her mom would find some resolve in making sure Zappy was better, but that idea of replacing one with the next was something else. I couldn’t fathom that my wife wouldn’t be able to see through the grief, I didn’t have the capacity in thinking Luca dying the way he did was so egregious that it made Celeste unable to look past that loss. And sadly I found Zappy cleaning up after her mom, cleaning up after herself, making her own little lunches for a homeschool system that was self created by my daughter, because Celeste was beside herself, creating a needing to grow up far too soon before a 5 year old needs to grow up and I stayed in the basement groveling in the loss trying to find a way to better this for Celeste, and for me.
— I think I’m done today Rachel. I had thought going over this, especially in a more one-on-one basis would help, maybe be cathartic and finding a grasp of all of this, it just makes it that much more real and terrifying and that I single-handedly ended my family’s lives by accident. I didn’t f****** mean to, I need that to be known I didn’t mean to hurt any of them. Especially my baby girl and wife. I’m sorry Rachel, I’m going to ask that we stop and we’ll pick it up tomorrow. I’ll go over… f***, I’ll tell you about the box tomorrow okay?
— You’re not going to like it, I know I don’t but I’ll give you every detail I can.
-+-Okay Joel, we’ll respect your wishes, we are running out of time though so I am going to need you to start truly getting into detail about what I’m hoping will start giving us some bread crumbs to building up a sort of detailed schematics of where it began and how it ended.
— You and me both Rachel, you and me both. Mind if I take another cigarette with me before I go back to my cell?
‡ I nod and issue toward the cigarette box where Braunagh take a one and awaits his guard to be ushered back to his cell.
-+-Tgank you Joel, you have a good night, try to remember all you can from the box and making whatever that thing is. Want to try to get as much as I can recorded all right? I’ll see you tomorrow Joel.
Scribed May 13th, 2009 -9:00 p.m. signed: R. T. Milton
End of Discussion 1 Time – 9:00 p.m. 05/13/2009
Songs listened to during Writing Forget -Me-Naught Pt. 2
† These are the recordings of Joel D. Braunagh. Patient #19-374222. Case #9119 Det. Milton # 617
Discussions encase “the box”, admittance of guilt to victims: Brother -Michael Braunagh, Wife – Celeste Braunagh, Daughter – Zappy Braunagh
Date/Time – May 11th, 2009, 8:00 p.m. –
Pt. #19-374222 J.D.Braunagh
Discussion 1
-+-Good evening Mr. Braunagh, I know you’ve met me before but just for the record I am Detective Rachel Milton the time is currently 8:01 p.m. on May the 11th 2009. Now Joel Braunagh, we will be going over all the details you can give to us about, well about what happened and why it keeps happening. The department as well as the attorney general are wanting a detailed recollection of everything that happened so when you’re ready and comfortable let’s start from the top or when things developed into what we’ve been cleaning up after. Is that okay?
-+-Before we start can I offer you a drink? We’ve got coffee and water, I think we still have some Pepsi too in the break room.
— No. Sorry, no, thank you.
‡Shuffling, papers rustling, a heavy sigh, Braunagh flicks at a zippo. **static**
— I can’t believe this is f****** happening.
-+-Mr. Braunagh, if we could start with what happened. How did your brother die, what was it that had both your wife and daughter parish and why is the coroner reporting that it’s an unknown for cause of death.
— It was the box.
-+-Excuse me? Can you repeat that, it sounded like you said the box did it.
— And it did.
-+-Explain that to me Braunagh, where’s this box? What is the box? And please do tell me what a box could do to make you kill your wife, daughter and brother? I have it hard to believe that line of shit, that a box is capable of that, especially when it’s not in our evidence documented, we have nothing of substance with this so called box nor is it mentioned in the hundreds of manifesto-like writings we found in your basement. But the assumption is the forget me…forgive me not, was the box? Right?
— It’s Forget-Me-Naught.
-+-Okay, thank you, ‘the forget-me-naught’. Would you at the least, tell us what drove you to create this box.
‡Silence, he shifts, stares at the floor lifting his shoes, self-soothing by continuously rubbing legs, and hands, alternating from legs to hands with each inquiry.
— Let me start with this question Detective, does it show that my wife and I had a child before our little girl?
‡shuffling, rifling through papers, heavy sigh, tapping of shoes.
-+-Yes, Mr. Braunagh. His name was Luke right?
— Hmm, right.
-+-Truly, I’m sorry for your loss Mr. Braunagh, how old was Luke?
— Luca. Luca Ronaldo Braunagh, he was nine. I’m betting you knew this though yeah? Is this just you trying to build up a rapport detective? How many times do you think I’ve gone over this? Let alone how long it took? Years!!! It took years before I wasn’t considered the pariah for all that happened. Child Killer is what they called me. Did you know that? They’d shout it, especially when the news had just come out about him and those flashing lights shrouding our house for days on end. He died on the mountain, up on Beulah. But the whole town did a great job in making it feel that he died everywhere we were seen. Even your department. You couldn’t wait to throw me down, making me out to be a wretched dad, an abusive parent to the two, and Zappy being in utero at the time didn’t make anything easier for my wife. We were lucky just to have had Zappy, but none of you let that be a celebration. Did you? What was it the headlines said detective?
— Baby Two? Will He Do IT Again?
–Right? What the f*** do you think is going to happen? What do you think happened to my wife? What the hell do you think happened to us after all of that? None of the department, you, the fire department, anybody at either of the hospitals in town, you looked at my wife like she was the fool and me like the villain, it couldn’t possibly be a f****** accident could it?
-+-Okay Mr. Braunagh
— Just call me Joel, jesus I’m not a father anymore remember? Just Joel. Honest, just keep it with the first name or you’re not going to get s*** from me.
-+-Okay…absolutely Joel, you’ve got it. Now that we’ve got that on the table, will you tell me what happened how did the passing of Luca, and what the city did, which I’m not forgiving anybody’s behavior but how did that affect everything after? We need to know. Bad enough we’re beaten back reporters and as many journalists as I’ve ever seen flooding the police department. You definitely f****** put our town on the map Joel. So how about you give us the benefit of the doubt and you tell us, tell me what happened.
— Fine detective Milton, do you mind if I smoke?
-+-As long as you’re willing to continue to discuss in detail what happened and how, I don’t see why not.
‡Braunagh removes pack of Djarum Black – 12 count cigars, removes one cigar, lights up with Zippoconversation cont.
— It was those f****** shoes, his mom got him these goofy designed shoes, they had uh…what’s, what’s it’s name, that yellow guy with the, the star friend, umm SpongeBob, and Pat or something. Anyway, he had boots and I swore I thought I asked him to put em on before we had gone on the hike, I didn’t think to look down and double check before we left and it…well it’s shale up there you know? It’s Beulah, shale everywhere, the entire god-damned towns bottom shelf is, god! Everything is f****** shale.
-We had been hiking up for about three hours and finally stopped for a snack. It was right next to what was kind of a cliff-off area on the mountain where it dropped a good couple hundred feet and below you can see the the stream that ran through the mountain. Luca, was, well Luca was looking down at the water and trying to get me to come over and look, I took forever getting up and while that was happening he just kind of kept shifting, hoppin in that same area. I kept telling him to wait and quit jumping like a rabbit, that he was too close to the edge and I, I…I moved over to him, I could hear something but I didn’t know where it was coming from, I didn’t, I wasn’t thinking and the ground from under him just moved it just dropped and him with it. I lunged my arms out but he was already gone. I panicked, scaled down more so, kind of rolled down breaking my leg and arm from where the shale pieces and him had fallen but finally got to him.
–He…*gulp*he…it was so quiet, I called out to him go bling to him and I saw his hand, it was the only part of him not bloodied and maimed by the rock and fell to move the rock as quickly as I could but…f***…he wasn’t stirring, and there was so much blood. I knew then…I’d lost him, my baby died and I was too f****** slow to catch him, to lazy to be up with him to keep him far enough away from the edge…*sniff* *sniff*f****** crap how many times do I have to relive this, like I’ve told every single person, investigator and journalist, reporter, and dick it was a f****** accident. And it’s a weight and a burden! I have to carry every f****** day. Every minute through my core and it burns inside like a smoldering iron so thanks for that Rachel.
— I need a f****** minute.
-+-Joel, I really do apologize I wasn’t trying to rehash that, I can’t imagine what that’s…
— It’s darkness. It’s a complete void of nothing, do you have kids Rachel? You don’t mind me calling you Rachel do you? Or do you need me to call you detective? The question remains, do you have kids?
-+-I don’t think that matters to the discussion Joel we need to figure out what happened I’m sorry for rehashing Lucas passing and having to go over that again but I need the details. I need to be able to tell my Captain that there was a justified reason for convicting you of one death and not three, the coroner has no idea how your wife and daughter died, there’s no sign of malicious intent unless self-inflicted, other than that there’s no sign that you killed them and I need to find out what happened joel, you need to tell me or else I’m not going to be able to help you and I’m the only one on your side right now unless you want to call in a lawyer.
— Then answer the question Rachel. Do you have kids?
-+-Yes. Yes, I have a boy, a little boy he’s five and my girl is 13. I’m not giving you the other names so don’t ask or we can stop the conversation right now.
— Thank you. That’s all I needed to know. You have kids at least, so you can likely imagine what it would be like to have one of those kids just be erased gone to never grow, to never learn anything new, to never fall in love with whomever they choose to, find songs that they had never heard before that rattles their bones and shakes their heart, books to never be read and journeyed through knowing the authors, and the art, all they can’t ever be given to them ever ever again. I’ll never be able to show my son favorite films, my wife and I will never be able to show our son the places where we fell in love, where we found his name, there’s so many things that were halted the moment all of that happened to Luca. And there’s nothing that can be done to get that back so what do you think happened to my wife? If it wasn’t for Zappy being born the year before Luca died guaranteed our relationship would have completely eradicated itself through his loss. But we did have Zappy, and for a time it kept us tethered, but only for a time.
— I started investigating as much as I can, I got my hands in as many volumes of popular mechanics, American scientific, a myriad of other Science and tech magazines that I used to create something. But what I didn’t know, I’m a toy maker, I make things that spin for about a minute or two, little cars that wind up and can go up walls, puppies that can jump in your pocket I make toys, so I tinkered and tailored and tinkered and tailored and and just kept going and going while this is happening not realizing that Celeste above, all the projects I was doing right now at the time I was in the basement, and I’d be down there for days sometimes, completely absolved in creating something that could help us. Maybe like a memory box was the thought, something to put everything we could think of about him into to keep it and keep it safe was the idea but again I wasn’t focusing on her I was focusing on just stopping the pain. And I try to tell myself that that was enough in focusing on her, but f*** f*** f*** f***. I’m sorry, this is just, I, I haven’t even had an opportunity to say goodbye to them!!! I said goodbye to my brother, and we’ll cross that road when we get to it,but I never had a goddamn opportunity to kiss my wife goodbye or my child. Can I have that at least. You’re having me talk about everything that happened and I haven’t had the time to process half of it but even a f****** quarter, let me say goodbye to my babies. And I will tell you everything. But right quick your sorry ass needs to understand that I never had any intention on harming any of them, not one. It was the f****** box.
-+-Okay, after talking with the Captain and D.A., we have agreed to your request, we will continue the discussion tomorrow at 8:00 p.m. Thank you, they’ll take you to your quarters now.
–Mm hmm…
–Detective Milton, before they usher me out, you’re telling me, seriously, in evidence, the box isn’t there? I mean it, I need to know, it needs to be demolished, immediately. Please Detective, I promise I will tell you everything I just need you to do that for me please.
-+-Sure Joel, I’ll look into it, Captain’s not going to like it but I’ll take a look see what I can get, to info though give and I’ll make sure you know tomorrow. Have a good night Joel.
Scribed May 11th, 2009 -9:13 p.m. signed: R. T. Milton
Dream Dark Stories 