Sweet Little Lies

***

The screaming is unbearable. Oh, how could X misconstrue my gift? I don’t mean to scare her. Dear God, I love her! I want her. I need her.

***

Apparently all the women in the neighborhood have been on edge. I hear them whispering to X. They don’t feel safe. They are afraid of what lurks in the night. They are afraid of me.

I hear the men talking amongst themselves. They don’t want to scare the wives.

“What kind of animal could do such a thing?”

“Must have been a bear. That’s a big dog to have been taken down by that pack of coyotes that’s been hanging around.”

“A bear, in these woods? We’re residential on three sides. Do you really think one could get this far into town?”

“I’d think anything is possible. They get hungry enough, they’ll go where the food is.”

“But if it was a bear, it didn’t eat the dog. Just tore it up.”

“Maybe it was injured, saw the dog as a threat and attacked.”

On cue, the group stared at me, lurking in their woods. They didn’t see me, of course. But I shifted a bit, sending the birds on the limb next to me catapulting into the air, just to let them know I’m here.

***

It was when X saw me, that first time, when her eyes grew wide and her hand went to her mouth to stifle a scream, or perhaps a knowing smile. That’s when the men congregated again, and decided to end my days.

I’ll never forget how stu

I admit I didn’t handle the encounter well. All these months, waiting for the perfect opportunity, and when it presented itself… I ran. Our eyes met, and I panicked. Thrashed off into the woods, making enough noise that the replacement dog next door started a howling cadence and was immediately matched with four other wails, one of which came from deep within X’s beautiful breast. I turned for a moment in my flight and saw her back, fleeing into the safety of the house. Damn.

So our idyllic time came to an end. The men returned, this time armed. They forced their way into the forest. Found my camp. Poked through my belongings. Admitted to themselves that there was no way a bear could have made such a spectacular fire pit and hearth. But I was gone, well ahead of them. I wouldn’t be back anytime soon. Give them some time to get over it. Let them call the police, search the area. Realize that I’m no longer there.

I will bide my time. X is worth it. I want her so much. I just can’t live without her. And now, I don’t have to. The new windows, the new kitchen, everything is as it was. We’re just in a new town, with new woods.

I am every bump in her night. Every creak of a pipe. Every time a dog barks, she knows it is because they sense my presence. I am the hair that sticks up on the back of her neck. The unexplained feeling of dread that overwhelms her, making her glance over her shoulder. I am her nightmares and her day terrors. And I love her so very, very much.

HAVE YOU SEEN ME?

Discount Noir, Edited by Patricia Abbott and Steve Weddle, Untreed Reads, 2010

Walmart

Black Friday

5:05 A.M.

The swarming lines of people were jubilant despite the unseasonably warm morning. There was Christmas in the air—the Muzak trembling under the weight of the bass line. O Ta

As if that would matter.

The doors sprang open. With a cheer, the crowd flowed into the over-lit store.

Vicky ignored the screaming signs and caterwauling masses, took a right turn, then a left. Victory! She was the first one here. The dolls were up ahead, the aisle shockingly empty.

Except for the small, blonde angel, staring at the shelves with forceful longing.

Vicky drew up short when she saw her.

My goodness. She looks just like the little girl who was featured in that gossip magazine last week. Vicky had read the article, wondering if the age progressions could possibly be right. What would her own child look like in seven years, when the roundness of her baby fat smoothed into actual features? The thought ripped a hole in her chest.

The little girl’s eyes were too big in her face, the sharp curve of her jaw jutting out. Could it be the same girl? Surely not. Surely this was a figment of Vicky’s overactive imagination.

The crowds were closing in. Vicky snatched the precious doll from the shelf, tried to ignore the little girl standing so quietly beside her. Mission complete, she hesitated for another moment. The girl from the pictures would be nine now. Kidnapped on her second birthday, assumed dead. The age looked right.

No, Vicky decided. There was no way. That little girl had gone missing from Mi

The speakers poured out the Nutcracker, and Vicky felt a pounding in her temples. She needed to go—she had the doll, there was nothing keeping her here. But something pulled at her stomach, so she stooped and faced the little girl.

“Are you—”

The girl’s face contorted in fear and she dashed away.

Well. That was that. Vicky took the doll for her sweet dying daughter and forced her way to the checkout. They were celebrating Christmas tomorrow night. Vicky swallowed hard. Her daughter wouldn’t make it until the actual day. She’d be lucky to make it through the weekend.

She sighed deeply. What kind of woman would she be if she didn’t at least mention to the Walmart security guard that she thought she’d seen little Jessica Scott?

***

Lauren was mesmerized by the glittery tinsel dancing on the edges of the tree. Her mom was so sweet, trying hard to make this a nice Christmas. Lauren heard her slip out before dawn; she wasn’t supposed to know that Mom had run to Walmart to buy her the Mercy doll. But every noise, every conversation, echoed through the living room. The hospital bed, with its tubes and wires and beeps, wouldn’t fit upstairs. This way, she could see the fancy tree and the window with its view to the street.

She was sorry to see her parents in so much pain. She’d been trying to help prepare them, so they would know she’d love them always. Dad rushed around with a haunted look on his face; Lauren knew that he felt guilty living. She didn’t know how to tell him that it was okay. Her mom was resigned and surged forward. Lauren sometimes felt it would be easier if she were gone; it seemed everyone was just waiting for her heart to stop beating. It wouldn’t be long now.

She ran her hand over her bare head, still pained at losing the deep black hair. Mom promised that when she got to heaven, her hair would be back, but Lauren didn’t believe. Not really.