The End of Easter

By

Jonathan Oliver

I’m in solitary confinement as I write this, waiting for the Big Buzz that will send me to the Lord God Almighty. Got my orange overalls, this here pen, pad of paper and I’m gonna tell my story. The priest says that it will help some in getting to the other side.

 Now most of you all hate me and I appreciate that, I really do. You see most of you are damned anyway. Destined to burn. Isn’t nothing I can do about it. God sorts ‘em out.

 My name’s Elisha Joyce and I’m the man who killed Easter. That’s what the papers say anyhow. Now what I’m telling you is that I’m the man who reclaimed Easter for Jesus.

 My ranch is in a small town called Beaverdump, way down south where the good ol’ boys come from and where no man takes the Saviour’s name in vain without getting his. Off the freeway and down a dirt track a ways into the forest is my place. There’s a shooting range out back, a well that ‘aint run dry and a porch where you can sit all night and look at God’s glory stretched wide and deep on a big Western sky.

 Early last March me and Joe were sitting out there, shooting the shit and knocking back cold brewskies. Joe ‘aint too bright but we’ve known each other since we were kids and he’s kind of like a brother to me.

 “Yup,” He said.

 “Yup,” I said.

 “Ah-yuh.” Replied Joe.

 “You seen anything of that Miss Carson who works down at the diner Joe? You know, the one you is always make them puppy eyes at.”

 “ ‘Aint nothing Elisha. Me and her are just good friends is all.”

 “That so?”

 “Yup.”

 About then Billy, my wayward son, barrels out of the house waving my .45 and screaming, “Bang, bang! Bang, bang! You’re dead Indian sucker!” Joe was up quick as lightning, grabbing the gun off Billy and unloading it faster than you can light up a Marlboro.

 “Billy! Billy, you come here! What has your father told you about playing with guns? Shit, you coulda hurt somebody.”

 “Damn it Joe! Don’t you cuss in front of my boy! Billy come to pa. Now what have I told you about them shootin’ irons?”

 “Not to play with them?” He says, tears starting to form in his eyes.

 “And?”

 “To fear them as I fear the Lord sir.”

 “That’s right Billy and one day you’ll learn to treat them right.”

 Lisa, my wife, walked out from the kitchen and refreshed our beers. Joe stared at the purple bruise on her cheek. She ‘aint so pretty now but at least she’s learnt respect. Without saying anything she went back inside.

 “Now Joe, you want to show this errant son of mine how to use a weapon?”

 “Sure. Billy, I’m gonna hit that tree out there, past your daddy’s Ford. You don’t pull the trigger see but squeeze. Steady, breathe deep, now…”

 Crack!

 “See, just like that. Come here now and you try.”

 Billy, eyes bright, took the gun looked at it with something like awe and levelled it towards the night. The wing mirror on my car exploded in glittering shards. He dropped the gun and jumped back as it went off again, ripping a hole in the porch roof.

 “Well, maybe you ‘aint ready yet.” I said picking up the weapon. “Anyhow it’s time for your bed. I’ll leave uncle Joe out here shooting gophers and we’ll go and read the Word together.”

 Jesus was crucified and on the third day rose again. That’s the story of Easter. That’s what I told Billy. “But Daddy,” he says. “What about the Easter Bunny?”

 “There ‘aint no Easter Bunny. The story is right here in The Bible! Did I make reference to any bunny? Did I?”

 “No Daddy.”

 “Well then, who told you about this here damn rabbit?”

 “My friends at school say that at Easter the bunny comes and he gives you chocolate eggs. All I want is chocolate Daddy, can’t I have chocolate at Easter?”

 “How dare you profane Christ’s name with these notions! How dare you bring these pagan concepts into my house! Now you pray real hard for forgiveness Billy. Good-night.”

 “Daddy leave the light on.”

 But I didn’t.

 Next day I was on the shooting range with Joe. I got some bust up cars we like to blow the shit out of with automatics and shot guns. Them heaps of junk are about the only sport worth having around here. Used to be foxes, hogs, even a few wolves but for some reason they seem to have up and gone. Valley is damned quite this time of the year.

 Joe turned to me laughing as the last dregs of gas in one of the Fords ignited. The hood flew up in a gout of flaming smoke and landed somewhere in the forest. “Weeeeheeeew, damn! That one was loaded Ellie, real loaded. See there, see that beauty?”

 I was slowly loading a pump action. I turned away from my buddy and levelled at the bumper of another wreck.

 “Hey Ellie what’s up? You ‘aint said shit all day.”

 Pump. Aim. Crackaboooom! A satisfyingly large portion of smoking car slammed to the ground and I went for more shells.

 “Well Joe, now my boy’s got these strange notions in his head and I am one worried man. He thinks the Easter Bunny is what Easter is all about. Course I told him different but I don’t think that he gets it.”

 “The Easter Bunny? Oh yeah, sure. Like Superman is what Christmas is all about!” He laughed, revealing ugly brown teeth. “Now we’s good folks know it’s all about our Lord and Saviour.”

 “That’s right Joe, that is indeed right. But how do you teach my eight year old boy that? All he can think about is chocolate and his fat little belly. Pass me the magnum, oh and try yourself this hear Luger. Old gun but still has a hell of a kick.”

 “How’s about we hunt it down and blow that critter’s head clean off its shoulders?” Joe spun the revolver and a bullet shied into the cloudless blue.

 “Now you know we can’t do that Joe. The Easter Bunny don’t exist.”

 “Ellie how do you know? You and me ‘aint seen Jesus but we know that he exists right? Seems to me there’s plenty of kiddies who believe in this here bunny and what if they believe in it so hard that it actually exists? What then?”

 “Joe Deeks. A mule may have kicked you in the head when you was three but it sure didn’t knock all your brains out! That is the smartest thing I heard that ever came out your mouth.”

 “It was?”

 “Oh yeah. Now that we know this construct of the pagan mind exists we can tear it a new asshole!”

 Over some fine stogies and a bottle of Uncle Jack’s fire water me and Joe made our plans. First port of call was to be Ross’s All-Night Mart. We’d sneak down there about four in the morning when the first deliveries came in, particularly the chocolate eggs. Joe figured that the Easter Bunny would be there to oversee the delivery of his mind-bending Satanic candy, seeing as how he makes it himself. I would distract one of the drivers while Joe cracked the bunny round the back of the head with a crowbar. Then we would bundle him into the trunk of my car and haul ass into the desert where we fry the rabbit.

 It was freezing cold and raining by the time we got down there. We crouched behind the trash and waiting for two long hours. By the time a delivery truck arrived we were so tired that both of us near passed out. I nudged Joe with my boot and he gripped the crowbar like he meant to do some damage.

 “Where’s the rabbit? Is he here? We ready to wup-ass?”

 A great bear of a man dropped the back of one of the trucks and started hauling out the goods. They may have been chocolate eggs or even tins of soup, it was kind of hard to tell.

 “No Joe, I don’t see any bunny. Maybe he’s hiding inside the truck.”

 “Well let’s get a bit closer.”

 We started to creep round the side of the store, keeping to the backs of the garbage skips.

 “Tell you what Ellie, said Joe, “take this crow bar. I’ll distract that guy while you sneak into the back of the truck and give that rabbit what for.” Before I can say anything he was off across the asphalt and tapping bear-man on the shoulder.

 “Good evening sir. I was wondering when this here store of yours opens up for business.”

 Oh shit Joe. What kinda stupid question is that? This place is a twenty-four hour mart! I started to creep around to the back of the truck keeping the crow bar hid under my heavy duster.

 “Look kid will you just piss off!” The delivery guy was beginning to use his gut to make Joe back off. In the truck boxes were stacked high. Most of them just looked to be tins of spaghetti but towards the back I thought I could make out some slightly gaudier packaging. I climbed in.

 “Who the fuck was that!” Shouted the guy Joe was trying to “distract.”

 “ ‘Aint nothing I reckon. Probably just the wind. Now tell me, how much do you reckon a can of beans from this place will cost me. 50 cents?” Joe wasn’t doing too good. The truck lowered as one pissed of bubba of a trucker jumped in.

 “Hey you, fuck-nuts! Get away from those boxes!”

 “Hit him Ellie, hit him! He’s in league with that demon rodent!

 So I did.

 The guy dropped. Joe stood over him looking at the bloody hole in the guy’s head.

 “Joe?”

 “Yeah Ellie?”

 “I think that I killed him.” Joe nudged the guy with his boot. He didn’t stir. “I reckon that you did at that.”

 “What am I gonna do? I don’t wanna go to jail. I’ve got a wife and kid Joe!”

 “No quiet on down Ellie. You just killed an agent of Satan that’s all. The state will thank us! Maybe you even get to be mayor!”

 “Joe Deeks you thick skulled son of a horse! This ‘aint no game anymore. We killed a man!”

 “We? Now I like you and everything Ellie but you was the one what did the whackin’.”

 “Joe I gotta hide. They’ll come for me soon enough but I’ve got to be ready.”

 “My friend if you is hiding I’m comin’ with you. You’ll need someone to look out for you in the wilds.”

 “You’re a good man Joe. Come on we’re going to need guns, lots of guns.”

*  *  *

 “Will you quit stepping on my heels Joe. I almost head butted that tree!”

 “Sorry Ellie but I can’t see a damned thing.”

 “Well keep that torch trained away from my head then.”

 Back at my place we’d armed ourselves up and then ran into the forest. I didn’t say goodbye to Lisa. I figured that I didn’t owe her much. Billy was sleeping and I had one last look at him through his window before we left. Near broke my heart but he ‘aint going to want a murderer as a pa.

 We’d been trekking for about an hour when Joe stopped dead.

 “What now?”

 “I heard something Ellie. Something big.”

 “Probably just you imagination. No, hang on, come to think of it that ‘aint that big.”

 A branch snapped somewhere off to our right and I motioned to Joe to get down. We heard a heavy breathing and then something that sounded wet and heavy dropping to the ground. Using my old military training I motioned Joe to follow me as we crept towards the sounds. I parted a section of brush and there, in a clearing ahead of us, was the most appalling, unholy thing that I have ever seen.

 The Easter Bunny was pink, eight feet tall, had teeth as big as tombstones and eyes that burned with a demon fire. It was standing over rows and rows of wet, steaming brown eggs and as I watched that damned rodent crouched down, went cross-eyes and laid another. When Joe said that the bunny made those eggs himself I never reckoned on anything like this.

 “Holy shit!” I whispered.

 The Bunny’s ears twitched, it sniffed the wind and then turned towards where we were hiding. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. Joe clamped both hands over his mouth.

 There was just us and the bunny, everything else faded away. Then the demon shrugged and went back to laying his eggs.

 “High ex!” Joe said.

 “Wha….”

 He was up on his feet and bounding into the clearing, emptying both barrels of the shotgun into the rabbit. Blood and bone fragments blew out of its chest, it screamed the cry of a million torn souls and dropped to its knees.

 “Yeah! How do you like that you evil son of one fucked up hare!” Joe put the shotgun against its head and turned to grin at me.

 “I got him Ellie! I got me the Easter Bunny, how do you like that?”

 Quicker than the eye can see the bunny had bitten off Joe’s arm, shotgun and all.

 “Ellie!” He screeched like a scared child. “I don’t wanna die. Don’t let me die.” Then he looked at the blood fountaining from his shoulder, turned white and keeled over. The rabbit was on its feet again. It’s maws red with my friends blood. It looked at me and roared.

 All I could hear as I reached into my bag for the machete was the pulse of my heart. My breath was slow and even. I seemed to drift across the clearing. For a moment I had time to think things through clearly. Maybe I would die and what then? Endless salvation? The heavenly choir. I reckoned I didn’t care. There was just one thing a had to do.

 The first blow, backed up with rage and strength, went through its furry neck and through the windpipe. It’s head flopped half off and it breathed a gurgling scream into my face. The stench of its breath was almost overwhelming. I swung again and the demon rabbit’s body toppled against mine and we fell to the ground. Soaked in hot gore and sweat I rolled the carcass over.

 That’s pretty much it then, I thought and knelt by Joe.

 “I’m sorry buddy. I hope you and all them fine assed angels are having a real good time in God’s kingdom. I had to do what I did and I’m glad that you were there to help. Joe, I promise that I’ll come back for you buddy.”

 I took the weapons out of my holdall and slung in the head of the Easter Bunny.

 Waves of blessed holy energy poured through me as I raced home. God rained down his gifts on my soul for he knew that, tonight, I had done his work.

 I shouldered open the screen door and strode into the kitchen. Lisa, dark rings shadowing her eyes, got to her feet.

 “Where the hell have you been Ellie! I’ve been worried sick, Billy has been crying all night and…My God, there’s blood all over you! What happened? Is Joe with you? Where’s Joe Ellie?

 Opening the bag I said, “Shut your mouth Lisa, I’ve got a lesson to teach the boy.” Taking the head I went and slammed open the door to Billy’s room He sat up in bed, blinking and rubbing his eyes from the sudden light.

 “What’s up son, expecting the Easter Bunny were you? Well just so happens I got him right here,” and I threw the bloody head onto his sheets. He took one look at it and screamed fit to bring on the apocalypse.

 In the distance was the sound of approaching sirens.

 The rest, as they say, is history.

 You would not believe the shit storm that rained down after that. The headlines: THE END OF EASTER, BUNNY KILLER SENTENCED TO DEATH, EASTER KILLER’S SON TELLS OF ABUSED LIFE! Lisa, red faced and bawling on CNN, the endless hate male and prison cell interviews and all for me! I can’t help but laugh.

 Well, it’s nearing midnight and the black fellas with me here on death row are singing a mornfull lullaby that will accompany to my sleep. I can hear the steps of the priest and warden as they stride up that lonesome road. Time to go. I reckon I done you all a favour, saved you from that devil candy and those pagan constructs but you can think what you like.

 That’s, as they say, all folks!