Letters from Joseph

Hi,
When I was twelve I had a best friend named Joseph.  We used to play in the woods together four blocks from the neighborhood.  Playing together made the cold autumn days go by a little easier.  Joseph was the greatest, he was so cool and always knew the right things to say.  I was a tender fat little kid that didn't have many friends but Joseph showed me that I didn't need any one else beside him.  I used to always want to play 'war' using sticks for guns but Joseph never wanted to play that, said that was a kids game and he was too old to play that.  He always wanted to hang around that shed deep in the woods.  No one else knew where it was beside us.  I never went in it because Joseph didn't let me.  Even though I didn't like playing there I did mostly what Joseph wanted.

One autumn day, Joseph decided it was time for him to share his secrets with me but to do that we needed to become blood brothers.  At first I was hesitant because I didn't know what it meant or how to do it but he explained it to me.  We had to cut our hands and let the blood exchange as we put pressure on it by clasping them together.  I didn't like the idea of hurting myself but the blood didn't bother me.  So we did it.

Joseph felt like now he could tell me why he loved that shed so much.  He told me that's where he kept all his secrets and only his most trusted friends could enter.  I was thrilled because now I was Joseph's blood brother and I was allowed to enter his shed and learn his secrets.  We walked deep into the woods, crunching on leaves with our foot steps as we delved further into the orange autumn day of the woods.  I was excited to see what secrets he would show me.

When we got to the shed Joseph had to unlock a huge heavy lock he kept on the door.  The door was heavy and creaked a lot when he opened it.  The shed was really dark.  Joseph turned on a gas lamp he kept inside and as my eyes adjusted I could see blood smeared on the wooden walls.  There were jars with tinted yellow liquid and body parts in them resting on the shelves.  Heavy hooks were hanging from the ceiling and on the work table there were fingers separated from hands.  The far wall had pieces of arms and legs nailed to it.

I felt lucky to be seeing this.  I asked Joseph what was in the small jars with the body parts and he said vinegar.  He was soaking the meat in vinegar for flavor and tenderness he said.  I looked around curiously and felt proud of myself to be here with Joseph.  I considered this a great privilege.  I was Joseph's blood brother and I did whatever he wanted.  Once he started gutting me at my neck to my belly I felt as if I had been released and given freedom.  He thrust the knife into my neck at a perfect downward 45 degree angle and sliced down my belly.  He then hung me upside down on one those heavy hooks hanging from the ceiling to bleed me out.  He then started scraping a thin layer of my skin off to remove most of the small hair and boiled my head to soften the hard tufts of hair on my scalp so he could cut it off easier.

I bled out quickly for Joseph and didn't give him any sour meat.  He removed my internal organs, my fat and my head.  He cut off my head first to allow any residual blood to drain.  He first made a cut all the way across the back of my neck, right at the backbone's initial joint.  Then he severed my windpipe so that my head could drop forward for easy removal.  He continued cutting around my ears, to my eyes, and to my jawbone, he cut me like that so my head could come free but leave my jowls on my body.

Next he stuck his knife deep into my front neck wound with its point against my backbone and cut upward, using the blade to split my breastbone and divide the rib cage.  He opened me up and cut through the wall of my bell letting my innards fall forward.  They were still attached however by muscle and stomach lining.  He cut it away and started to cut into my lean meat and fat.  The best parts of me.  I was looking very delicious for Joseph.  I had plenty of good tender meat on my fat little body and I did not disappoint.

He cut me into pieces and slices of prime cut and wrapped them all in butcher paper.  After he finished collecting his meat, Joseph locked up his shed and went back to his van and headed to his apartment where he put me in a pan with potatoes, carrots, chicken broth and other vegetables. He used the tougher cuts of my meat and slowed cooked it over low heat.  The lower heat melts the tough connections between muscle fibers leaving him with tender meat that flaked at his fork.  I was every bit delicious as Joseph had hoped.  He prepared me as a dinner for royalty, I felt so honored.  He ate me on his best dinner plate under a candle lit table and had a glass of '87 pinot noir.  After he finished eating me he saved the rest for the week.  The next day he will head back to the school where he drives the school buses.  Joseph ate extravagantly for a few weeks with the meat I provided.  Once finished with me he'll write another one of these letters telling how delicious the next one was.  There are plenty more because Joseph's gotta eat and Emily was so delicious as well, her story will be next.  Sincerely, Joseph.