It is a duckling

It is a duckling. Neck broken, next to the lake, and my brother, his little friend, their muddy fingers flexing, or twisting in t-shirts, leaving little mucky spirals around the hems. I make them dig a hole. "Do you know what you've done, little mucky murderers? That duck was alive and now its just loose-necked, all dirty and wasted and its little mother and little brothers are quacking over there walking in circles going 'where’s my little brother' 'where's my little mucky son' but the little mucky son's gonna be in a hole cause you little murderers couldn't leave that damned thing alone." "I didn't do it," my brother says drilling at the muck with his toes. "I'm not a murderer." "You're a murderer and worse you’re a brutal duckling murderer with no conscience. You might as well be a serial killer, do you know what a serial killer is? I didn't think so. Not the first animal you've murdered, is it? Do you kill kittens? Little helpless fish? I should call the police. Should help them get your little serial killer mind off the streets, keep us safe from your brutal violence, probably genetic, probably not my brother, dirty little murderer, adopted from some murderer probably, abandoned, most likely, abandoned and needing a home and now a murderer. I'll call the police when we get home, I'll call the police and they'll take you away and have the psychologists work on you until you're normal. Brainwash you. It's the only way." "No! Don't call the police. I'm not a murderer." I walk home. He's following saying, "don't call the police" but I just ignore him and toss little pebbles in the blackberry bushes. His little friend went somewhere, I don't know, maybe in the lake or over the fence or home to his mom and the duckling's in a little wet hole but really I just want to get a snack, a bowl of cereal, watch some cartoons or whatever, but he's still following close, worrying about the police, little idiot, all "I didn't do it, I'm not a killer," little idiot. I unlock the door with my key and we walk into the living room. I make a show of dialing the phone, of waiting patiently of dialing and talking, and he hugs himself and he says, "don't!" "Oh, shut up already you little murderer and turn the tv on."