The Curator.

My wife and two children stared silently at the television, submerged in the latest news story splayed across the screen. The volume had increased at least three or four times since the story began. I was amazed at their laser focus and amusement with the topic.

Hello, folks. If you’re just tuning in with us, the police have found the body of a long-time drug lord and known tormentor, Marco Nicks.

“Can you believe it?” She shouted back to us wide-eyed with a mouth full. My wife remained silent, aggressively chewing her overcooked sirloin steak. I appreciated that she cooked for us every night. It’s just that the food wasn’t good. Since she’d seemed so lost in the moment, I took the lead and shrugged at our daughter’s comment.

The city has begun to shiver with the number of bodies that continue to pile up with no known leads.

Rolling my eyes at the comment, I wondered what the big deal was. All the bodies were of terrible people entangled in corruption, murder, and drugs. If anything, the city should be pleased. A small sigh seeped through my lips as I jammed more overly salted mashed potatoes into my mouth. Any fast-food restaurant would’ve been a better choice than this. “You like it?” I looked up to see m wife’s desperation. “Delicious,” I said, “may be the best meal yet.” I was, of course, lying, but I’ve gotten very good at it. The girls turned away from the television and agreed with me. I knew they were also excellent liars. They took after me.

The news switched to pictures of local pets, and the girls collected our dinner plates. The wafting smell of dawn dish soap started to seep into the living room. “Remember, I need to go in tonight for a supply order,” I said, nudging my wife as I stood. “I remember,” she said with a confident smile, “you leaving soon?”

I glanced at my watch, noticing a tiny red smear on the left side of the face. Without acknowledging it, I wiped it hard against my leg. I’d planned to leave two hours later but seeing red inspired me to head out immediately. My body grew angst. ’You know,” I said, “I’d better head out now. Then maybe I can get back sooner.”

“Good plan,” she said, kissing my cheek, “see you in the morning, my love.” I left her side and headed to the kitchen, hugging the girls goodbye.

The car rumbled as the engine started, igniting a rushing burn through my core. I knew that soon the police would find another trash body cast into the street by my hands, and we’d watch another lovely news story tomorrow night. Suppose they see it that fast. They’ve gotten slower, or perhaps I’ve gotten better. One day I’d tell my ladies the truth, but I’ll keep my little secret to myself for now. My grin widened as I exited the driveway.