I did this.

Yeah.

I did.

Is that your confession?

He nodded his head. Things got outta hand.

I’ll say they did.

The man looked at the detective. You ever get scared? He asked. I mean, terrified.

Used, too.

What changed?

Years. You get jaded. Nothing affects you anymore. Babies dead in overheated cars while dads are inside strip clubs. Some bar. An old lady brutally murdered in a bathtub washed in her own blood. Two teens killed in an accident, car wrapped around a tree. I could go on and on, the cop said. You get the picture.

Yeah. I do. He pointed to the cigarettes and asked for one. The detective lit it for him. I was just wondering if you admired my work. I put a lot into it. Lots of thought.

I see that.

I’d like to tell you everything. All that was involved.

I got nothing but time.

Yes. Time. I’m not going anywhere either. Just sitting here. I used to sit and watch the sunrise over fields of soybeans. Green fields. Next to a vegetable stand where overpriced items were sold, he smiled and inhaled. Jars of apple butter. Canned peaches. Strands of rhubarb. Sweet corn. All up and down the highway were signs for sweet corn. You like sweet corn?

Sure.

The stand was owned by this couple. Open from July to October.  They worked sun up to sun down.  Hard-working Americans. The kind you’d see at church on Sundays. 

Go on.

I got to be pretty friendly with them. They used to give me bruised apples. Out of date cider.

They were kind to you?

Yes.

Those are always the toughest ones to kill. Kindness goes a long way.

It sure does detective. It sure does.

What happened?

They were late one day. Then, late another. Not on time. I hate people who aren’t punctual.

So you killed them over that.

They didn’t show up till noon. He put his cigarette out. They made me wait. Just like when I was a kid. I was told to wait my turn. Dad slapped me. Told me I was a spoiled child. Do I look spoiled to you?

Go on.

Well. Anyway. They were late. Several times. So one day, I got out my gun and waited for them.

I see.

I blasted out the windshield before they even parked it. I just kept pulling the trigger. He tried to run. Limping. She was already dead. So I shot him in the back. Several times.

For being late.

Yes. For being late. Wouldn’t you?