10-20-2010, 10:01 AM
(I noticed in one of Liz's posts she mentioned posting stories for Halloween--here's one of mine)
As I was walking on the stair
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today
Oh, how I wish he'd go away!
--Hughes Mearns
Halloween was one day away and Eddie Maltz couldn’t help thinking that Bramble Point was a sorry place to spend it. He was hoping to go to his dad’s apartment, but since Sherry, the new girlfriend, had come along—that was out. Eddie’s Mom made enjoying Halloween difficult. “It’s demonic,” she had said just last Sunday after church reminding him “Pastor Ray does say that it’s Satan’s Holiday.” She’d found God after Dad left, and hoped Eddie would, too. For weeks she’d been telling him how much fun he’d have at the First Assembly Harvest Festival and Lock-in.
He’d heard about Lock-ins from Toby Sullivan. Toby got stuck going last year. They trick you with pizza and rock-wall climbing, but what they really do is lay on the preaching. Toby said most of the kids were chanting, “We Love Jesus Yes We Do. We Love Jesus How ‘Bout You?” for about 2 hours. He said it was like being in jail—and the pizza was Dominoes. Dominoes!
Eddie wanted to go as a vampire this year. Michaela Winters thought vampires were sexy ever since Twilight came out. He put the newly purchased plastic fangs in his mouth and snarled into the bathroom mirror. There wasn’t time to get a haircut, he thought, brushing his hair out of his eyes. He looked in the closet for something black to wear. Hearing his mom’s footsteps in the hall, he quickly pocketed the fangs.
“Trying to put a costume together?” she asked. Eddie shrugged his shoulders and gave a perfect, non-committal grunt. “It did say costume optional on the release form for the Harvest Festival. You did turn in the release form, didn’t you?” Not waiting for his response, she continued, “I think a costume is a good idea. We don’t have to give up a day of the year to a counterfeit holiday—it just has to be the right type of costume. Oh, hand me that will you?” She pointed to a sheet stacked on top of some folded towels on the upper shelf in the closet. Taking it from Eddie, she held it in front of him, shaping it in her hands like a toga. “There, you could go as David fighting Goliath. I could make you a sling out of some leather straps.”
“Mom!” Eddie started backing away from her. David and Goliath? Great, just another reminder that he didn’t take after Dad—he was barely taller than she was. At least he hadn’t inherited her freckles.
“You’re right,” she said, holding her hands up in surrender. “I’m sure a lot of kids will go as David. I know! What about Phineas? All we need is a spear. I told you about Phineas right? When the Israelites left Egypt, God told them not to be—she struggled for the words—sexually active with the Canaanites...”
“Mom!” Eddie tried to will her to stop talking, stop talking.
“Now, honey, this is important. You’ve just turned fifteen, and I’m sure you’re discovering girls. You need to make the right life choices. I wish my mother had told me these sorts of things,” she said.
“Maybe your mother was right.” Eddie turned away like he did when he was getting a shot at the doctor’s.
There was a knock on the door. His mother let go of the sheet and turned to answer it. Eddie could hear her voice retreating down the hallway, “Okay, okay, I’ll let you come up with your own ideas. Hormones have sure gotten you touchy.”
“It’s not hormones!” Eddie threw his hands in the air. His mother didn’t understand. He was stupid to think he could put a costume together at home. He was not going to be David, Phineas, or even God, Himself. Maybe he could go as the Devil; he was in the Bible—Eddie snorted, like his mom would go for that. He could just imagine sneaking away from the Lock-in and crashing Michaela’s party dressed as David.
Random Jerk: What’s that in your hand loser? Is that a jockstrap?
Me: It’s a sling.
Random Jerk: [Laughter] Looks small enough for you.
“Ally’s here,” his mom yelled from the living room. He could hear them speaking, Ally’s voice rising over his mother’s.
“No thanks, Mrs. Maltz, I had something to eat at home. No, really don’t go to any trouble. Um, I mean, yes, a cookie would be nice. Thank you.” Ally walked into Eddie’s room shaking her head slightly, holding two chocolate chip cookies. “Your mother said to give you one.” She handed him both cookies. His mother always thought Ally was too thin. So every time Ally visited, she had to run the gauntlet of offered sandwiches, potato salads, and whatever else his mom had in the fridge. It wasn’t that she didn’t eat; she was just always in motion. Her body had a hard time containing its own energy.
She sat cross-legged on his bed facing him, her brown hair peeking out beneath a green hoodie. Her smile was sympathetic. “Your mom still giving you a hard time about Halloween?”
Eddie shrugged, “It isn’t really about Halloween. It’s about my dad” He bit a cookie. “Sherry moved in with him last month.”
“They’re living together? I thought he said, he didn’t want to be in a relationship, Ally said, unconsciously pulling on the hoodie’s strings.
“Yeah, I guess he just doesn’t want to be in a relationship with us,” Eddie said, brushing cookie crumbs off the bedspread onto the floor. “I think this church thing is a reaction. Mom’s trying to change—be someone else. She’s manic.”
Ally was absently batting the model of the U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln with her right hand. It had hung from Eddie’s ceiling since they first built it together when they were eight. The guns were crooked and the landing deck off-center. “Anyone might be manic when their marriage ends—anyway, all parents are manic.”
He told Ally about David and Goliath. “I need your help.”
The next day he met Ally after fourth period English by their lockers. “Did you bring your dad’s old costume?” Eddie asked.
She pulled a long black cape out of her backpack. “I brought the gloves too, in case you wanted them.”
Ally’s parents did Community Theater, and each Halloween her dad was a different Andrew Lloyd Webber character. Last year, he was Phantom of the Opera. It was kind of cool, until he started singing the parts—which always drove Ally crazy. “Who’s he going as this year?” Eddie asked, as he folded the cape into his backpack.
“He’s Asparagus, Gus from Cats.” She pursed her lips as if tasting something bitter. “I think he likes the irony of being a theater cat. If I have to hear one more time about the ‘palsy that makes his paw shake,’ I’m leaving home.”
This was nothing new for Ally. When Eddie first met her, she was running away from one injustice or another—real or imagined. The first time was when she couldn’t go to Chuck E. Cheese’s. She had graduated from those early attempts to threatening her parents’ way of life, running away from their values—probably to be an accountant or a lawyer, or some other faceless, corporate drone that her bohemian parents despised. Eddie thought Ally’s mom and dad were a lot better than what he was stuck with—his Mom being Joan of Arc or something.
“So tonight we’ll meet at the cemetery. My mother thinks your parents are driving us to the chur—” his voice trailed off as his eyes moved over Ally’s head. Michaela Winters was wearing some type of cat suit. It was tight like dark paint on her skin. The dress code was usually overlooked today.
Fingers were snapping in front of Eddie’s face. Ally glared at him, “Down here! I don’t know what you see in her—she’s so obvious.” Ally outlined a curvy figure in the air with her hands.
“No need to be jealous Ally…,” Eddie said. Before he could get any further she hit him in the shoulder hard. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…” Ally turned quickly and began heading down the hall. Eddie had forgotten how sensitive she’d become about this. She’d eventually catch up with the other girls. Eddie ran after her grabbing her arm. “Come on Al…I’m sorry I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“You’re a jerk,” she said.
“Guilty,” he said raising his hands pleadingly trying to get her to smile.“Are we still on tonight?” He asked. She nodded.
After school Eddie had two hours to himself before his mom got home from work sometimes even a little later. She worked at Millie’s, a boutique downtown. Her boss Janet would often keep her late, sobbing over her latest failed relationship. Mom thought of this as her ministry to other wronged women and often invited Janet to church. Eddie got to hear these stories at dinner, prefaced by: Here’s why you should never do this. At least she had stopped adding, “This sounds so much like your father.”
He grabbed a Fresca from the refrigerator and headed to his room to change into his costume. He settled on black jeans and a maroon turtleneck, and then draped the cape over himself. It was about six inches too long and dragged on the floor. He’d have to remember to get Ally to help him fix the length. Next, he headed to the garage to get the garden trowel and recover the shoebox, which he had hidden under bags of frozen corn in the outside freezer.
The garage door was sticking again. Eddie knew that he should take it off its hinges and adjust it with the hand plane. He and his dad had worked together on weekly honey-do lists that his mom had stuck to the side of the refrigerator. The list still included: un-stick garage door, fix leaky upstairs faucet, put bleach in A/C, and clean out gutters. She hadn’t added anything new in the last six months. It bothered Eddie to see that unfinished list. Forcing the door open, He located the shoebox, checked to make sure the tape was secure on the lid, and stuffed it and the trowel into his overnight bag. He left his mother a note that he was heading to the church, and went to meet Ally at the cemetery.
The cemetery was about as ominous as a strip mall. There were no mausoleums, no gargoyles, just small stone partitions scattered over grassy acreage with sugar maples and oaks strategically placed. The plots were all family style like some buffet restaurant. The newer graves had the traditional headstones; while the older part of the cemetery was decorated with iron crosses with name plaques affixed to them—some only bearing family titles like Grandma. Eddie had pulled out a few of these crosses and switched them around. After his dad left though, he’d returned them to their proper places. It suddenly seemed important that families should stay together.
Ally was late. He hoped she was coming. Eddie checked his watch every few minutes. Finally, he unpacked the shoebox and began to dig a hole with the trowel.
“I can’t believe you started without me.” He looked up and saw Ally dressed in a sheer green outfit with a pattern of ivy running up the side. She had a pair of dragonfly wings on her back, and her brown braided hair was encircled by a tiara of leaves.
“Wow, you look great! Nice outfit,” said Eddie. It could have only been the moonlight but Ally’s face seemed to color and open up like a blooming flower.
“Midsummer Night’s Dream fairy walk-on costume for Titania’s court,” her lithe dancer’s body twisted in a smooth pirouette. “Are we ready to start?”
Each year since they were nine, they shared a Halloween tradition. They would reenact some aspect of a Stephen King book. Last year (when Halloween was allowed in his house) it was The Stand. Eddie went as Randall Flagg and Ally was a Captain Trips victim. This year the book was Pet Sematary. Eddie peeled the tape of the shoebox lid to reveal a frozen chipmunk that had been hit by a car. Ally scrunched up her face at the sight of it. “Eww…maybe we should have gone with Firestarter this year, or Carrie.”
“No, I’d have a hard time explaining why I needed pigs blood to my mom. She already has enough issues. I don’t need to add to them.” He picked up the chipmunk with the trowel and dropped it in the hole he had dug. He began to bury it with the loose soil, patting it down with the trowel. “Now we wait for it to rise from the dead,” he said in his best Igor imitation.
“Seems like a waste to use any of the magic that way.” A raspy man’s voice said from behind them. Startled, they spun to see a gaunt man leaning on a shovel. He was angles and bones. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. If a scarecrow could come to life, it would surely look like this man; his smile resembled a stitched seam—and it mocked them. His white linen shirt was untucked hanging loosely over baggy gray tweed pants that stopped four inches below the knee. His two-toned black and white lace up oxfords held a bright military shine. He looked like he had stepped out of an old movie. “Don’t you kids know anything? There’s power for the taking on this night. The veil between worlds might as well be a soap bubble.” The man shook his head. “And You…” His gaze took them both in, and pursed his lips, “you waste it on a chipmunk. I pity the future.”
Eddie motioned for Ally to get behind him. Crazy man with a shovel was not what they needed right now. They both moved back slowly so as not to startle the man.
The man laughed. “I thought you kids wanted to see something. Here, see this!” He struck the shovel hard against the earth. All at once there was a wind that sounded like moaning and smelled like rot under wet leaves. “Remember, it was your idea.” Eddie’s forgotten garden trowel rolled off the chipmunk mound. The dirt there began to stir like bugs moving in and out of it. Two paws pushed up through the mound followed by the head of a slightly decomposed, slightly frozen chipmunk. It spotted Eddie and snarled. Its back half was crushed but it began to drag itself toward him with its front paws. Eddie’s feet weren’t working. He remembered every horror movie he’d ever seen with his dad. The monster or killer or zombie or angry toy even would be shambling toward the victim. They always stood frozen. Eddie had always thought they were idiots. He would yell at the screen for them to run, but they never did. Staring at this zombie rodent working to close the ten feet between them, Eddie finally understood.
The man’s shovel came down with a resounding thud, pulping the chipmunk beyond recognition. “Zombies are nasty things,” he said. “You should use the magic with more wisdom.”
Tears welled up in Eddie’s eyes. “What the hell just happened?” He meant the question to be heard but it came out as a whisper.”
“Funny you should mention Hell, Eddie Maltz. Didn’t think you believed in it. Do you believe in it, Ally Parker?” The man’s gaze pinned her.
“Who are you?” Ally’s voice was shrill.
“Well, I’d say I’m a friend, but let’s not start off with lies. I’m like a genie. I can help people be what they want to be. Magic doesn’t always have to be—” He flipped over the bottom of his shovel admiring the stain, “messy.”
“Look I don’t know who you are but we’re going to leave. You can keep your magic.” Eddie started stepping backwards.
“Eddie, these chances don’t come along that often. It’s been years since I’ve made anyone an offer.” The man’s eyes seemed to mist at the memory. “You have my word that I can deliver on your requests. Can both of you truly say that you’re happy with your lives?”
“Well,” said Ally, “we’re fifteen—if we were then there would really be something wrong with us.” Eddie could see that she was getting her courage up, becoming the Ally that he knew and depended on. “What’s the catch?” she asked. “There’s always a catch.”
The man tisked, “So untrusting. Tell you what, I’ll take something in exchange for granting you your heart’s desire. Think about that. But I won’t take anything that you don’t willingly give me. We can barter. If you’re not comfortable with any deal don’t make it.”
Eddie stopped backing up, took a step toward the man. Ally’s hand touched his shoulder. “It’ll be okay Ally. I want to hear his offer. You should hear him out too.”
The man reached into his pocket and tossed Eddie a small round object, which he caught in one hand. It was a pocket mirror. He threw a similar one to Ally. “Both of you look at your reflections. Stare good and hard. Do you see yourselves? Your imperfections?” He paused and watched them consider themselves. “Mirrors Lie!” He thundered so suddenly that Eddie dropped the mirror. “Now think about what you want to be. Are you willing to give up those imperfections, those parts of your life you hate? That is my price. Will you pay it?”
Eddie retrieved and gazed deeply into the mirror. Instead of showing his reflection it began to show him scenes from his life that he recognized—incidents that he’d hoped to forget. His mind reached back and he was suddenly there again.
He was sitting on the green shag couch in the living room. His father and mother were making a point not to look at one another. They stared at Eddie. His mother’s mascara was smeared. His father had a lopsided smile on his face like he’d rather be any place at this moment. Eddie didn’t want to hear the words again. “Son,” his father said, “your mother and I want you to know we both love you very much, we just don’t love each other any more.”
“None of this is your fault,” his mother added. Eddie felt his stomach getting tight.
And the scene shifted.
He was nine and walking to school on a park trail that ran behind the campus. He could tell he was being watched. He could feel it on the back of his neck. When he heard a twig snap, he began to run. He got about forty feet before Jake Christensen tackled him bringing him hard to the ground. Jake was in his class, and whether Eddie had a good day or not depended on whether he could avoid Jake. Today was not a good day. Jake had brought friends. The day kept getting worse and worse. Beating him up was a given. Eddie winced feeling the blows again. Then Jake grabbed his backpack. “Let’s see what you got here spaz.” He started throwing textbooks as far as he could. He stopped when he picked up the Stephen King book. “Carrie, you into scary stories spaz?” Flipping through the book he noticed Ally’s name on the inside cover. “That your girlfriend spaz?”
And the scene shifted
He was older now looking for a table in the lunch room at school, and suddenly he was sprawling onto the concrete to the sound of laughter and exaggerated high-fives. “Jake, that isn’t funny,” Michaela said, “cut it out.” She turned to Eddie. Sprawled on the ground with the knee torn out of his jeans (his leg suddenly burned), and macaroni and cheese smeared across his shirt. Two days ago, he had worn pizza. He would have to remember to bring his lunch from home.
Eddie tore his eyes away from the mirror and saw Ally locked in a trance, her body rocking as though she was being hit. He shook her. Her eyes cleared and she shook her head.
Let me repeat the man said, “Do you want to give away what you hate? Do you want the change I can offer?”
Ally had been holding her breath. “Yes,” she exhaled.
Eddie nodded. He couldn’t see any trap here. Give up the things you hate about yourself, your life, what was there that you would miss? He looked at the man and nodded his acceptance. The man started chanting words in some strange language, “Mene Mene Tekel Upharsin.” He then took the shovel and struck it against the earth. The pressure of Ally’s hand left Eddie’s arm. He turned toward her, and she was gone.
“What have you done to her?” Eddie screamed.
“Patience child.” His voice came out as thick syrup. “Let’s just say I changed the ripples in the pond, I had to go back before the rock was thrown, had to make my own ripples—just like I have to do for you.” The man struck the shovel to the ground. Eddie’s vision clouded and went black.
He found himself standing on the walkway leading to his house. It was light outside. Had he been unconscious for an entire day? As he trudged toward the door he felt the weight of his overnight bag on his shoulder. He didn’t remember picking it up from the ground. So absorbed in his thoughts, he missed the jack-o’-lantern on the porch—carved with a tight smile like a stitched seam of thread—and almost kicked it over. Eddie stepped from the entryway.
“Is that you honey?” his mother called from the living room.
“Yeah Mom,” he said.
“Oh, is that your Halloween costume?” Eddie’s mother came closer to look at him. She lifted a corner of the cape up toward her face. Crap, he was still wearing the cape. “Going for that modern vampire look. I’m sure Michaela will like that.”
“Who?” Eddie feigned.
“Michaela. Oh Eddie don’t tell me you two broke up. You’re so cute together. Now, where did you get this cape? It looks expensive.”
“Ally’s dad wore it last year.” Eddie’s mom looked at him, curiously and raised her head, as if forgetting her train of thought. Eddie studied his mother. “Mom, have you gotten smaller?”
“Funny,” she put her hands on his shoulders. “That joke’s getting a little old hon, though you’re filling out well—looking more and more like your father.” She smiled and let go of the cape. Eddie watched it fall and it wasn’t dragging anymore. As he was closing the door to his room his dad stepped from the kitchen drying a dish in his hand.
“Did I hear my name used in vain?” Eddie heard his parents’ laughter through the door. It must have been 5 years since he’d heard that.
Eddie locked the door and went to the mirror on the back of his closet. He was taller (maybe six inches). He smiled and noticed immediately that the gap between his front teeth was missing. He frowned, how did his mom know about Michaela? Going out? Maybe this was the magic? If it was it seemed like a good start. He had to admit the old freak in the cemetery did good work. He’d have to thank him.
He picked up the phone and hit speed dial 1 to call Ally. Wonder what changes she’s had? Before he could say anything he heard, “Hey Sweetie. I thought you forgot about me.” He didn’t recognize the voice at all.
“Um, sorry I think I have the wrong number.”
She gave a sarcastic laugh. “I can’t wait for the party tomorrow night. Oh, can you hang on for a second my sister wants the phone. Eddie heard snatches of the conversation: I’m busy…in a minute…Mom make…gotta call…Michaela get of… She came back on, “I’m sorry I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love yo…” the call disconnected.
There was a knock on his door. His dad entered carrying a basketball. “Hey, you want to have a little one-on-one?” He spun the ball on one finger. “I’m not used to losing to my own son.”
Since when had they played basketball? His dad had tried to teach him once, but he could barely dribble without looking at the ball. Suddenly the ball was flying toward his face. In one fluid motion he caught, palmed, and then spun it on his own finger?
His dad had left the room. Eddie could hear him opening the front door. “Come on, let’s go—to ten, makers, call your own fouls.” Eddie hurried after him.
It seemed impossible to believe. Eddie’s shot went in from everywhere. He had just tied the score 8-8 on a sweet crossover that had left his dad sprawled on the driveway. He had finished the play with a two-handed dunk. His father was breathing hard.
“Sweet move Ed. It’s been a long time since my college ball.” His father shook his head. “You’ll definitely draw some scouts this year if you can keep those moves up. Let’s take an age break for your ol’ man.” He handed Eddie a bottled water.
Eddie took a sip, “Hey, Dad, how are you and mom doing?” he asked.
“We’re fine, why?” His dad took a drink of water.
“What about,” Eddie hesitated, “Sherry?”
“Sherry?” His dad sounded confused.
“Sherry, at your work,” said Eddie.
“Oh—I think she was in marketing. She was let go from the company right after she stared; it didn’t work out. What made you bring that up Ed? I don’t recall mentioning her.”
Eddie was spared answering. His father quickly looked at his watch in panic. “Whoa! We’ll have to pick up the game later. I’ve got to get ready for date night with your mother.”
“Date night?” Eddie was incredulous.
“Yes, son, it’s Thursday. I know it’s hard to think of your parents on a romantic date, but I’ve really got to get ready. His father stood up turning toward the house. Eddie picked up the basketball, shot—nothing but net. He smiled.
The next day, Eddie was waiting at his and Ally’s usual spot after fourth period English. The bell finally rang for the next period without her showing up. Was she sick? Freaked out over what happened? He started to walk toward her locker when he felt arms wrap around his waist from behind. “Hey lover I’ve missed you.” a voice purred in his ear. He turned to see Michaela pressed up against him. She tilted her face to be kissed. Eddie’s mouth was suddenly dry and he wasn’t sure where to put his hands. He leaned down to meet her lips. Lover? Did that mean they had? He had some fuzzy memory of her living room, a green couch, and her parents away—only to be startled by a loud voice before the picture could fully form.
“Maltz! Winters! break it up. No PDA on campus. Michaela pushed back from Eddie’s chest smiling.
“We’ll be off campus tonight,” she whispered. Louder she said, “Sorry Ms. Benjamin.”
Ms. Benjamin scowled. It made her look like one of those pug dogs. “You two go to the office right now. Separately!” she added, pointing to Eddie and motioning him away.
Eddie sat down on one of the pink plastic chairs to wait. He looked up at the school secretary an older woman who probably worked here when his mother had attended. “Hey, Mrs. Brown,” he asked, “did Ally Parker come to school today?”
Who?” Mrs. Brown said.
“Allison Parker. Mrs. Sherman’s homeroom?”
“I’ll check,” she said. Bending over her computer, she asked, “Parker? How you think it’s spelled p-a-r? Eddie spelled it. “I’m sorry I’m not seeing any Ally Parker in our rolls. This system doesn’t always get updated quickly. Is she a new student?”
“Come on Mrs. Brown, Ally. Ally Parker! She brought the brownies into the bake sale last month. You said you liked them you bought two of them. The one’s with the pecans.” Was she going senile?
“Well, I remember the brownies, Eddie, of course. You brought them,” she said.
Eddie’s hands started to shake. “I feel like I’m going to be sick,” he said, running out the door with his hand over his mouth. Once out of sight he sprinted toward his locker. Fumbling with the combination he finally got it open. He scanned the pictures taped to the door: There he was dressed for Halloween last year as The Crocodile Hunter with a stingray barb sticking out of his chest. He took a lot of grief for that. He suddenly felt a buzzing in his head. That didn’t happen. He tore a strip of pictures off the back wall of the locker. He and Ally had posed in one of those carnival photo booths last year, but when Eddie looked at the pictures it was he and Michaela now. Kissing! He remembered that day. She’d sat on his knees facing him in the booth. She’d tasted like cinnamon. He let the memory wash over him. How could he forget that day of all days? Eddie stared at the pictures. There was nothing wrong with them. He remembered Michaela’s blond hair draped over him in the booth. Eddie’s smile was short-lived as a sharp pain blossomed behind his temples causing him to stagger. When he opened his eyes he saw a ghostly afterimage on the pictures—a smirk on Michaela’s face that didn’t belong to her. It belonged to…Ally!
Eddie cut the rest of his classes leaving campus. When he arrived home, he was red-faced and out-of-breath. He left the front door ajar and went to his room. Opening his closet door he reaching inside for the cape and found only an empty hanger. He booted up his computer and quickly scanned through his e-mail. Ally wasn’t in his address book and there were no messages from her. Think Eddie! There has to be something. He went to the mirror and sucked his lower lip into his mouth. He had gotten eight stitches on his chin when he was five. He and Ally had been bouncing on the bed seeing who could go higher. Eddie had misjudged and bounced outward hitting the corner of an end table. The stitches were gone. In fact all of his scars were gone. Even the chicken pox scars that he had scratched on his side were gone. She couldn’t just be gone. Eddie tried to fix her in his mind, but the features kept shifting like someone he had dreamt about once and now couldn’t quite recall. He had to go back to where this had started. He had to go to the cemetery. He went to grab his overnight bag and found it sitting next to the model of an aircraft carrier. He examined it, as shoddily built as he remembered. He saw something different. There was a wallet-sized photo of a girl taped to the flight deck. It was Ally. She must have been eight or nine years old. Eddie left the overnight bag. He didn’t check for a shoebox under the corn, and this time he didn’t leave a note.
The cemetery was empty as before, with one notable change. An old shovel was leaning up against a headstone. Eddie walked over to it, and picked it up, uncovering the inscription.
Ally Parker
Beloved daughter
Born: 1996
Died: 2005
Eddie fell to his knees. How could she be dead? He stifled a sob. The leaves on the trees fell green and gold, encircling him. The whiff of rot on the air made him look over his shoulder. The gaunt man stood there with a tight smile on his face, his black eyes reflective like marbles.
“Come to thank me Mr. Maltz?” The man leered.
“Thank you?” Eddie sputtered, “What have you done? You killed Ally.”
“Oh Mr. Maltz, you give me too much credit. I’m surprised you even remember her, but Eddie, you killed little Ally. It was your wish—your heart’s desire in fact.” His smile had turned predatory—the glint off his teeth a warning.
“You lie.” Eddie lifted the shovel. “I agreed to let you change the things I hate about myself. I never agreed to let you hurt Ally.”
The man let out a slow hiss. “They don’t teach much in school do they? Don’t let you take a bite from the fruit of the tree? We’ll here’s a little knowledge for you boy—free this time. Every choice…every single choice you make murders every possible option. In a way Eddie, by asking me to undo your choices, by having me remake you, you had to murder millions of other choices. In some ways that makes you greater than Pol Pot.” Noting Eddie’s confusion he continued. “They didn’t teach you about him either…so sad. Mind shouldn’t be wasted boy. Sad indeed. You know all I’ve ever wanted to do is help you little monkeys. It isn’t only Ally, boy, you have hundreds of more interesting discoveries to make. You are shaping up to be one of my favorite little killers Eddie.”
“February 17, 2005: Little Ally came to your house something about Pokemon.” He smirked. With those changes Eddie, you never played Pokemon. You became involved in sports—basketball actually given your height. Ally went out riding on her bike on that day. If it’s any consolation she never saw the car that killed her.” He pretended to wipe away a tear.
Eddie hit him in the face with the shovel. He felt a sickening crunch as the man collapsed to the ground. He lifted the shovel again only to see Michaela staring up at him.
“Do you want to give this up, lover?” She ran her hands down her body.
Eddie hesitated, “None of this is true,” his voice was ragged.
“True, false, what does it matter? It will all be true soon enough. Just accept it, Eddie.” Her voice had acquired the deep rasp of the graveyard man. Her smile tilted as if she knew a secret and wasn’t about to share.
Eddie swung the shovel again and realized that he—he didn’t have a girlfriend anymore.
“Son, the most important thing in the world is your family.” Michaela was gone Eddie now stared down at his dad. “Ed, don’t you want your family to stay together.”
Eddie swung again. A buzzing started beneath his temples. His dad didn’t live with them anymore. It was his fault.
“Stop!” The shovel halted in midair. Eddie saw himself prone, his face smeared with blood and dirt. “Don’t mess this up,” warned his doppelganger. “Do you want to be forgettable again?—like you were before.”
Maybe you’re right about me,” Eddie said hitting him again. Maybe I am forgettable. Maybe I am a killer. Maybe Ally being gone is my fault.” Eddie was crying and swinging the shovel into the man again and again until the resistance went away and the shovel smacked against the earth to the crush of glass. The man was gone. Eddie turned the shovel over to see a shattered pocket mirror.
“Eddie, is that you?” There was a trembling voice behind him. He dropped the shovel and turned. Ally’s tiara was lopsided and one of her dragonfly wings had been torn off. She was clenching and unclenching her hands.
“Ally!” he yelled. His eyes drawn to her torn costume, and the dark stains across her chest “You’re bleeding!”
“It’s not my blood,” she said flatly, her blue eyes as pale as a glacier.
He ran to her, and wrapped her in his arms. They began sobbing, words blending together incoherently. Ally wiped her face with her hands. and looked him in the eyes, “I had the type of life I wanted. It seemed perfect. My parents were more normal. They had jobs. I…I had it all, but then I noticed you weren’t there. I looked for you and couldn’t find you. Finally, I came here. I saw your…” she looked at the headstone and quickly looked away. “He said that I changed things—that it was my fault. You were dead, Eddie.”
“So were you, Al,” he spoke in a rush uncertain of what he was going to say next. “When I realized what I’d given up. I only wanted it back…wanted you back. This perfect life wasn’t perfect without you. It wasn’t worth it.” Eddie’s face flushed. He began to turn away. Ally reached up and put her hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes. Eddie’s bent down to kiss her fully on the lips, his hands cupped the small of her back.
In another city, a boy dressed like a pirate leans down to pick up a small pocket mirror shining in the moonlight. The tree limbs rattle and leaves swirl in a circle around him as if moved by the wind. Unseen, an old man folds his white-feathered wings in front of him to become a rumpled linen shirt.
~~~
Ripples
As I was walking on the stair
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today
Oh, how I wish he'd go away!
--Hughes Mearns
Halloween was one day away and Eddie Maltz couldn’t help thinking that Bramble Point was a sorry place to spend it. He was hoping to go to his dad’s apartment, but since Sherry, the new girlfriend, had come along—that was out. Eddie’s Mom made enjoying Halloween difficult. “It’s demonic,” she had said just last Sunday after church reminding him “Pastor Ray does say that it’s Satan’s Holiday.” She’d found God after Dad left, and hoped Eddie would, too. For weeks she’d been telling him how much fun he’d have at the First Assembly Harvest Festival and Lock-in.
He’d heard about Lock-ins from Toby Sullivan. Toby got stuck going last year. They trick you with pizza and rock-wall climbing, but what they really do is lay on the preaching. Toby said most of the kids were chanting, “We Love Jesus Yes We Do. We Love Jesus How ‘Bout You?” for about 2 hours. He said it was like being in jail—and the pizza was Dominoes. Dominoes!
Eddie wanted to go as a vampire this year. Michaela Winters thought vampires were sexy ever since Twilight came out. He put the newly purchased plastic fangs in his mouth and snarled into the bathroom mirror. There wasn’t time to get a haircut, he thought, brushing his hair out of his eyes. He looked in the closet for something black to wear. Hearing his mom’s footsteps in the hall, he quickly pocketed the fangs.
“Trying to put a costume together?” she asked. Eddie shrugged his shoulders and gave a perfect, non-committal grunt. “It did say costume optional on the release form for the Harvest Festival. You did turn in the release form, didn’t you?” Not waiting for his response, she continued, “I think a costume is a good idea. We don’t have to give up a day of the year to a counterfeit holiday—it just has to be the right type of costume. Oh, hand me that will you?” She pointed to a sheet stacked on top of some folded towels on the upper shelf in the closet. Taking it from Eddie, she held it in front of him, shaping it in her hands like a toga. “There, you could go as David fighting Goliath. I could make you a sling out of some leather straps.”
“Mom!” Eddie started backing away from her. David and Goliath? Great, just another reminder that he didn’t take after Dad—he was barely taller than she was. At least he hadn’t inherited her freckles.
“You’re right,” she said, holding her hands up in surrender. “I’m sure a lot of kids will go as David. I know! What about Phineas? All we need is a spear. I told you about Phineas right? When the Israelites left Egypt, God told them not to be—she struggled for the words—sexually active with the Canaanites...”
“Mom!” Eddie tried to will her to stop talking, stop talking.
“Now, honey, this is important. You’ve just turned fifteen, and I’m sure you’re discovering girls. You need to make the right life choices. I wish my mother had told me these sorts of things,” she said.
“Maybe your mother was right.” Eddie turned away like he did when he was getting a shot at the doctor’s.
There was a knock on the door. His mother let go of the sheet and turned to answer it. Eddie could hear her voice retreating down the hallway, “Okay, okay, I’ll let you come up with your own ideas. Hormones have sure gotten you touchy.”
“It’s not hormones!” Eddie threw his hands in the air. His mother didn’t understand. He was stupid to think he could put a costume together at home. He was not going to be David, Phineas, or even God, Himself. Maybe he could go as the Devil; he was in the Bible—Eddie snorted, like his mom would go for that. He could just imagine sneaking away from the Lock-in and crashing Michaela’s party dressed as David.
Random Jerk: What’s that in your hand loser? Is that a jockstrap?
Me: It’s a sling.
Random Jerk: [Laughter] Looks small enough for you.
“Ally’s here,” his mom yelled from the living room. He could hear them speaking, Ally’s voice rising over his mother’s.
“No thanks, Mrs. Maltz, I had something to eat at home. No, really don’t go to any trouble. Um, I mean, yes, a cookie would be nice. Thank you.” Ally walked into Eddie’s room shaking her head slightly, holding two chocolate chip cookies. “Your mother said to give you one.” She handed him both cookies. His mother always thought Ally was too thin. So every time Ally visited, she had to run the gauntlet of offered sandwiches, potato salads, and whatever else his mom had in the fridge. It wasn’t that she didn’t eat; she was just always in motion. Her body had a hard time containing its own energy.
She sat cross-legged on his bed facing him, her brown hair peeking out beneath a green hoodie. Her smile was sympathetic. “Your mom still giving you a hard time about Halloween?”
Eddie shrugged, “It isn’t really about Halloween. It’s about my dad” He bit a cookie. “Sherry moved in with him last month.”
“They’re living together? I thought he said, he didn’t want to be in a relationship, Ally said, unconsciously pulling on the hoodie’s strings.
“Yeah, I guess he just doesn’t want to be in a relationship with us,” Eddie said, brushing cookie crumbs off the bedspread onto the floor. “I think this church thing is a reaction. Mom’s trying to change—be someone else. She’s manic.”
Ally was absently batting the model of the U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln with her right hand. It had hung from Eddie’s ceiling since they first built it together when they were eight. The guns were crooked and the landing deck off-center. “Anyone might be manic when their marriage ends—anyway, all parents are manic.”
He told Ally about David and Goliath. “I need your help.”
The next day he met Ally after fourth period English by their lockers. “Did you bring your dad’s old costume?” Eddie asked.
She pulled a long black cape out of her backpack. “I brought the gloves too, in case you wanted them.”
Ally’s parents did Community Theater, and each Halloween her dad was a different Andrew Lloyd Webber character. Last year, he was Phantom of the Opera. It was kind of cool, until he started singing the parts—which always drove Ally crazy. “Who’s he going as this year?” Eddie asked, as he folded the cape into his backpack.
“He’s Asparagus, Gus from Cats.” She pursed her lips as if tasting something bitter. “I think he likes the irony of being a theater cat. If I have to hear one more time about the ‘palsy that makes his paw shake,’ I’m leaving home.”
This was nothing new for Ally. When Eddie first met her, she was running away from one injustice or another—real or imagined. The first time was when she couldn’t go to Chuck E. Cheese’s. She had graduated from those early attempts to threatening her parents’ way of life, running away from their values—probably to be an accountant or a lawyer, or some other faceless, corporate drone that her bohemian parents despised. Eddie thought Ally’s mom and dad were a lot better than what he was stuck with—his Mom being Joan of Arc or something.
“So tonight we’ll meet at the cemetery. My mother thinks your parents are driving us to the chur—” his voice trailed off as his eyes moved over Ally’s head. Michaela Winters was wearing some type of cat suit. It was tight like dark paint on her skin. The dress code was usually overlooked today.
Fingers were snapping in front of Eddie’s face. Ally glared at him, “Down here! I don’t know what you see in her—she’s so obvious.” Ally outlined a curvy figure in the air with her hands.
“No need to be jealous Ally…,” Eddie said. Before he could get any further she hit him in the shoulder hard. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…” Ally turned quickly and began heading down the hall. Eddie had forgotten how sensitive she’d become about this. She’d eventually catch up with the other girls. Eddie ran after her grabbing her arm. “Come on Al…I’m sorry I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“You’re a jerk,” she said.
“Guilty,” he said raising his hands pleadingly trying to get her to smile.“Are we still on tonight?” He asked. She nodded.
After school Eddie had two hours to himself before his mom got home from work sometimes even a little later. She worked at Millie’s, a boutique downtown. Her boss Janet would often keep her late, sobbing over her latest failed relationship. Mom thought of this as her ministry to other wronged women and often invited Janet to church. Eddie got to hear these stories at dinner, prefaced by: Here’s why you should never do this. At least she had stopped adding, “This sounds so much like your father.”
He grabbed a Fresca from the refrigerator and headed to his room to change into his costume. He settled on black jeans and a maroon turtleneck, and then draped the cape over himself. It was about six inches too long and dragged on the floor. He’d have to remember to get Ally to help him fix the length. Next, he headed to the garage to get the garden trowel and recover the shoebox, which he had hidden under bags of frozen corn in the outside freezer.
The garage door was sticking again. Eddie knew that he should take it off its hinges and adjust it with the hand plane. He and his dad had worked together on weekly honey-do lists that his mom had stuck to the side of the refrigerator. The list still included: un-stick garage door, fix leaky upstairs faucet, put bleach in A/C, and clean out gutters. She hadn’t added anything new in the last six months. It bothered Eddie to see that unfinished list. Forcing the door open, He located the shoebox, checked to make sure the tape was secure on the lid, and stuffed it and the trowel into his overnight bag. He left his mother a note that he was heading to the church, and went to meet Ally at the cemetery.
The cemetery was about as ominous as a strip mall. There were no mausoleums, no gargoyles, just small stone partitions scattered over grassy acreage with sugar maples and oaks strategically placed. The plots were all family style like some buffet restaurant. The newer graves had the traditional headstones; while the older part of the cemetery was decorated with iron crosses with name plaques affixed to them—some only bearing family titles like Grandma. Eddie had pulled out a few of these crosses and switched them around. After his dad left though, he’d returned them to their proper places. It suddenly seemed important that families should stay together.
Ally was late. He hoped she was coming. Eddie checked his watch every few minutes. Finally, he unpacked the shoebox and began to dig a hole with the trowel.
“I can’t believe you started without me.” He looked up and saw Ally dressed in a sheer green outfit with a pattern of ivy running up the side. She had a pair of dragonfly wings on her back, and her brown braided hair was encircled by a tiara of leaves.
“Wow, you look great! Nice outfit,” said Eddie. It could have only been the moonlight but Ally’s face seemed to color and open up like a blooming flower.
“Midsummer Night’s Dream fairy walk-on costume for Titania’s court,” her lithe dancer’s body twisted in a smooth pirouette. “Are we ready to start?”
Each year since they were nine, they shared a Halloween tradition. They would reenact some aspect of a Stephen King book. Last year (when Halloween was allowed in his house) it was The Stand. Eddie went as Randall Flagg and Ally was a Captain Trips victim. This year the book was Pet Sematary. Eddie peeled the tape of the shoebox lid to reveal a frozen chipmunk that had been hit by a car. Ally scrunched up her face at the sight of it. “Eww…maybe we should have gone with Firestarter this year, or Carrie.”
“No, I’d have a hard time explaining why I needed pigs blood to my mom. She already has enough issues. I don’t need to add to them.” He picked up the chipmunk with the trowel and dropped it in the hole he had dug. He began to bury it with the loose soil, patting it down with the trowel. “Now we wait for it to rise from the dead,” he said in his best Igor imitation.
“Seems like a waste to use any of the magic that way.” A raspy man’s voice said from behind them. Startled, they spun to see a gaunt man leaning on a shovel. He was angles and bones. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. If a scarecrow could come to life, it would surely look like this man; his smile resembled a stitched seam—and it mocked them. His white linen shirt was untucked hanging loosely over baggy gray tweed pants that stopped four inches below the knee. His two-toned black and white lace up oxfords held a bright military shine. He looked like he had stepped out of an old movie. “Don’t you kids know anything? There’s power for the taking on this night. The veil between worlds might as well be a soap bubble.” The man shook his head. “And You…” His gaze took them both in, and pursed his lips, “you waste it on a chipmunk. I pity the future.”
Eddie motioned for Ally to get behind him. Crazy man with a shovel was not what they needed right now. They both moved back slowly so as not to startle the man.
The man laughed. “I thought you kids wanted to see something. Here, see this!” He struck the shovel hard against the earth. All at once there was a wind that sounded like moaning and smelled like rot under wet leaves. “Remember, it was your idea.” Eddie’s forgotten garden trowel rolled off the chipmunk mound. The dirt there began to stir like bugs moving in and out of it. Two paws pushed up through the mound followed by the head of a slightly decomposed, slightly frozen chipmunk. It spotted Eddie and snarled. Its back half was crushed but it began to drag itself toward him with its front paws. Eddie’s feet weren’t working. He remembered every horror movie he’d ever seen with his dad. The monster or killer or zombie or angry toy even would be shambling toward the victim. They always stood frozen. Eddie had always thought they were idiots. He would yell at the screen for them to run, but they never did. Staring at this zombie rodent working to close the ten feet between them, Eddie finally understood.
The man’s shovel came down with a resounding thud, pulping the chipmunk beyond recognition. “Zombies are nasty things,” he said. “You should use the magic with more wisdom.”
Tears welled up in Eddie’s eyes. “What the hell just happened?” He meant the question to be heard but it came out as a whisper.”
“Funny you should mention Hell, Eddie Maltz. Didn’t think you believed in it. Do you believe in it, Ally Parker?” The man’s gaze pinned her.
“Who are you?” Ally’s voice was shrill.
“Well, I’d say I’m a friend, but let’s not start off with lies. I’m like a genie. I can help people be what they want to be. Magic doesn’t always have to be—” He flipped over the bottom of his shovel admiring the stain, “messy.”
“Look I don’t know who you are but we’re going to leave. You can keep your magic.” Eddie started stepping backwards.
“Eddie, these chances don’t come along that often. It’s been years since I’ve made anyone an offer.” The man’s eyes seemed to mist at the memory. “You have my word that I can deliver on your requests. Can both of you truly say that you’re happy with your lives?”
“Well,” said Ally, “we’re fifteen—if we were then there would really be something wrong with us.” Eddie could see that she was getting her courage up, becoming the Ally that he knew and depended on. “What’s the catch?” she asked. “There’s always a catch.”
The man tisked, “So untrusting. Tell you what, I’ll take something in exchange for granting you your heart’s desire. Think about that. But I won’t take anything that you don’t willingly give me. We can barter. If you’re not comfortable with any deal don’t make it.”
Eddie stopped backing up, took a step toward the man. Ally’s hand touched his shoulder. “It’ll be okay Ally. I want to hear his offer. You should hear him out too.”
The man reached into his pocket and tossed Eddie a small round object, which he caught in one hand. It was a pocket mirror. He threw a similar one to Ally. “Both of you look at your reflections. Stare good and hard. Do you see yourselves? Your imperfections?” He paused and watched them consider themselves. “Mirrors Lie!” He thundered so suddenly that Eddie dropped the mirror. “Now think about what you want to be. Are you willing to give up those imperfections, those parts of your life you hate? That is my price. Will you pay it?”
Eddie retrieved and gazed deeply into the mirror. Instead of showing his reflection it began to show him scenes from his life that he recognized—incidents that he’d hoped to forget. His mind reached back and he was suddenly there again.
He was sitting on the green shag couch in the living room. His father and mother were making a point not to look at one another. They stared at Eddie. His mother’s mascara was smeared. His father had a lopsided smile on his face like he’d rather be any place at this moment. Eddie didn’t want to hear the words again. “Son,” his father said, “your mother and I want you to know we both love you very much, we just don’t love each other any more.”
“None of this is your fault,” his mother added. Eddie felt his stomach getting tight.
And the scene shifted.
He was nine and walking to school on a park trail that ran behind the campus. He could tell he was being watched. He could feel it on the back of his neck. When he heard a twig snap, he began to run. He got about forty feet before Jake Christensen tackled him bringing him hard to the ground. Jake was in his class, and whether Eddie had a good day or not depended on whether he could avoid Jake. Today was not a good day. Jake had brought friends. The day kept getting worse and worse. Beating him up was a given. Eddie winced feeling the blows again. Then Jake grabbed his backpack. “Let’s see what you got here spaz.” He started throwing textbooks as far as he could. He stopped when he picked up the Stephen King book. “Carrie, you into scary stories spaz?” Flipping through the book he noticed Ally’s name on the inside cover. “That your girlfriend spaz?”
And the scene shifted
He was older now looking for a table in the lunch room at school, and suddenly he was sprawling onto the concrete to the sound of laughter and exaggerated high-fives. “Jake, that isn’t funny,” Michaela said, “cut it out.” She turned to Eddie. Sprawled on the ground with the knee torn out of his jeans (his leg suddenly burned), and macaroni and cheese smeared across his shirt. Two days ago, he had worn pizza. He would have to remember to bring his lunch from home.
Eddie tore his eyes away from the mirror and saw Ally locked in a trance, her body rocking as though she was being hit. He shook her. Her eyes cleared and she shook her head.
Let me repeat the man said, “Do you want to give away what you hate? Do you want the change I can offer?”
Ally had been holding her breath. “Yes,” she exhaled.
Eddie nodded. He couldn’t see any trap here. Give up the things you hate about yourself, your life, what was there that you would miss? He looked at the man and nodded his acceptance. The man started chanting words in some strange language, “Mene Mene Tekel Upharsin.” He then took the shovel and struck it against the earth. The pressure of Ally’s hand left Eddie’s arm. He turned toward her, and she was gone.
“What have you done to her?” Eddie screamed.
“Patience child.” His voice came out as thick syrup. “Let’s just say I changed the ripples in the pond, I had to go back before the rock was thrown, had to make my own ripples—just like I have to do for you.” The man struck the shovel to the ground. Eddie’s vision clouded and went black.
He found himself standing on the walkway leading to his house. It was light outside. Had he been unconscious for an entire day? As he trudged toward the door he felt the weight of his overnight bag on his shoulder. He didn’t remember picking it up from the ground. So absorbed in his thoughts, he missed the jack-o’-lantern on the porch—carved with a tight smile like a stitched seam of thread—and almost kicked it over. Eddie stepped from the entryway.
“Is that you honey?” his mother called from the living room.
“Yeah Mom,” he said.
“Oh, is that your Halloween costume?” Eddie’s mother came closer to look at him. She lifted a corner of the cape up toward her face. Crap, he was still wearing the cape. “Going for that modern vampire look. I’m sure Michaela will like that.”
“Who?” Eddie feigned.
“Michaela. Oh Eddie don’t tell me you two broke up. You’re so cute together. Now, where did you get this cape? It looks expensive.”
“Ally’s dad wore it last year.” Eddie’s mom looked at him, curiously and raised her head, as if forgetting her train of thought. Eddie studied his mother. “Mom, have you gotten smaller?”
“Funny,” she put her hands on his shoulders. “That joke’s getting a little old hon, though you’re filling out well—looking more and more like your father.” She smiled and let go of the cape. Eddie watched it fall and it wasn’t dragging anymore. As he was closing the door to his room his dad stepped from the kitchen drying a dish in his hand.
“Did I hear my name used in vain?” Eddie heard his parents’ laughter through the door. It must have been 5 years since he’d heard that.
Eddie locked the door and went to the mirror on the back of his closet. He was taller (maybe six inches). He smiled and noticed immediately that the gap between his front teeth was missing. He frowned, how did his mom know about Michaela? Going out? Maybe this was the magic? If it was it seemed like a good start. He had to admit the old freak in the cemetery did good work. He’d have to thank him.
He picked up the phone and hit speed dial 1 to call Ally. Wonder what changes she’s had? Before he could say anything he heard, “Hey Sweetie. I thought you forgot about me.” He didn’t recognize the voice at all.
“Um, sorry I think I have the wrong number.”
She gave a sarcastic laugh. “I can’t wait for the party tomorrow night. Oh, can you hang on for a second my sister wants the phone. Eddie heard snatches of the conversation: I’m busy…in a minute…Mom make…gotta call…Michaela get of… She came back on, “I’m sorry I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love yo…” the call disconnected.
There was a knock on his door. His dad entered carrying a basketball. “Hey, you want to have a little one-on-one?” He spun the ball on one finger. “I’m not used to losing to my own son.”
Since when had they played basketball? His dad had tried to teach him once, but he could barely dribble without looking at the ball. Suddenly the ball was flying toward his face. In one fluid motion he caught, palmed, and then spun it on his own finger?
His dad had left the room. Eddie could hear him opening the front door. “Come on, let’s go—to ten, makers, call your own fouls.” Eddie hurried after him.
It seemed impossible to believe. Eddie’s shot went in from everywhere. He had just tied the score 8-8 on a sweet crossover that had left his dad sprawled on the driveway. He had finished the play with a two-handed dunk. His father was breathing hard.
“Sweet move Ed. It’s been a long time since my college ball.” His father shook his head. “You’ll definitely draw some scouts this year if you can keep those moves up. Let’s take an age break for your ol’ man.” He handed Eddie a bottled water.
Eddie took a sip, “Hey, Dad, how are you and mom doing?” he asked.
“We’re fine, why?” His dad took a drink of water.
“What about,” Eddie hesitated, “Sherry?”
“Sherry?” His dad sounded confused.
“Sherry, at your work,” said Eddie.
“Oh—I think she was in marketing. She was let go from the company right after she stared; it didn’t work out. What made you bring that up Ed? I don’t recall mentioning her.”
Eddie was spared answering. His father quickly looked at his watch in panic. “Whoa! We’ll have to pick up the game later. I’ve got to get ready for date night with your mother.”
“Date night?” Eddie was incredulous.
“Yes, son, it’s Thursday. I know it’s hard to think of your parents on a romantic date, but I’ve really got to get ready. His father stood up turning toward the house. Eddie picked up the basketball, shot—nothing but net. He smiled.
The next day, Eddie was waiting at his and Ally’s usual spot after fourth period English. The bell finally rang for the next period without her showing up. Was she sick? Freaked out over what happened? He started to walk toward her locker when he felt arms wrap around his waist from behind. “Hey lover I’ve missed you.” a voice purred in his ear. He turned to see Michaela pressed up against him. She tilted her face to be kissed. Eddie’s mouth was suddenly dry and he wasn’t sure where to put his hands. He leaned down to meet her lips. Lover? Did that mean they had? He had some fuzzy memory of her living room, a green couch, and her parents away—only to be startled by a loud voice before the picture could fully form.
“Maltz! Winters! break it up. No PDA on campus. Michaela pushed back from Eddie’s chest smiling.
“We’ll be off campus tonight,” she whispered. Louder she said, “Sorry Ms. Benjamin.”
Ms. Benjamin scowled. It made her look like one of those pug dogs. “You two go to the office right now. Separately!” she added, pointing to Eddie and motioning him away.
Eddie sat down on one of the pink plastic chairs to wait. He looked up at the school secretary an older woman who probably worked here when his mother had attended. “Hey, Mrs. Brown,” he asked, “did Ally Parker come to school today?”
Who?” Mrs. Brown said.
“Allison Parker. Mrs. Sherman’s homeroom?”
“I’ll check,” she said. Bending over her computer, she asked, “Parker? How you think it’s spelled p-a-r? Eddie spelled it. “I’m sorry I’m not seeing any Ally Parker in our rolls. This system doesn’t always get updated quickly. Is she a new student?”
“Come on Mrs. Brown, Ally. Ally Parker! She brought the brownies into the bake sale last month. You said you liked them you bought two of them. The one’s with the pecans.” Was she going senile?
“Well, I remember the brownies, Eddie, of course. You brought them,” she said.
Eddie’s hands started to shake. “I feel like I’m going to be sick,” he said, running out the door with his hand over his mouth. Once out of sight he sprinted toward his locker. Fumbling with the combination he finally got it open. He scanned the pictures taped to the door: There he was dressed for Halloween last year as The Crocodile Hunter with a stingray barb sticking out of his chest. He took a lot of grief for that. He suddenly felt a buzzing in his head. That didn’t happen. He tore a strip of pictures off the back wall of the locker. He and Ally had posed in one of those carnival photo booths last year, but when Eddie looked at the pictures it was he and Michaela now. Kissing! He remembered that day. She’d sat on his knees facing him in the booth. She’d tasted like cinnamon. He let the memory wash over him. How could he forget that day of all days? Eddie stared at the pictures. There was nothing wrong with them. He remembered Michaela’s blond hair draped over him in the booth. Eddie’s smile was short-lived as a sharp pain blossomed behind his temples causing him to stagger. When he opened his eyes he saw a ghostly afterimage on the pictures—a smirk on Michaela’s face that didn’t belong to her. It belonged to…Ally!
Eddie cut the rest of his classes leaving campus. When he arrived home, he was red-faced and out-of-breath. He left the front door ajar and went to his room. Opening his closet door he reaching inside for the cape and found only an empty hanger. He booted up his computer and quickly scanned through his e-mail. Ally wasn’t in his address book and there were no messages from her. Think Eddie! There has to be something. He went to the mirror and sucked his lower lip into his mouth. He had gotten eight stitches on his chin when he was five. He and Ally had been bouncing on the bed seeing who could go higher. Eddie had misjudged and bounced outward hitting the corner of an end table. The stitches were gone. In fact all of his scars were gone. Even the chicken pox scars that he had scratched on his side were gone. She couldn’t just be gone. Eddie tried to fix her in his mind, but the features kept shifting like someone he had dreamt about once and now couldn’t quite recall. He had to go back to where this had started. He had to go to the cemetery. He went to grab his overnight bag and found it sitting next to the model of an aircraft carrier. He examined it, as shoddily built as he remembered. He saw something different. There was a wallet-sized photo of a girl taped to the flight deck. It was Ally. She must have been eight or nine years old. Eddie left the overnight bag. He didn’t check for a shoebox under the corn, and this time he didn’t leave a note.
The cemetery was empty as before, with one notable change. An old shovel was leaning up against a headstone. Eddie walked over to it, and picked it up, uncovering the inscription.
Ally Parker
Beloved daughter
Born: 1996
Died: 2005
Eddie fell to his knees. How could she be dead? He stifled a sob. The leaves on the trees fell green and gold, encircling him. The whiff of rot on the air made him look over his shoulder. The gaunt man stood there with a tight smile on his face, his black eyes reflective like marbles.
“Come to thank me Mr. Maltz?” The man leered.
“Thank you?” Eddie sputtered, “What have you done? You killed Ally.”
“Oh Mr. Maltz, you give me too much credit. I’m surprised you even remember her, but Eddie, you killed little Ally. It was your wish—your heart’s desire in fact.” His smile had turned predatory—the glint off his teeth a warning.
“You lie.” Eddie lifted the shovel. “I agreed to let you change the things I hate about myself. I never agreed to let you hurt Ally.”
The man let out a slow hiss. “They don’t teach much in school do they? Don’t let you take a bite from the fruit of the tree? We’ll here’s a little knowledge for you boy—free this time. Every choice…every single choice you make murders every possible option. In a way Eddie, by asking me to undo your choices, by having me remake you, you had to murder millions of other choices. In some ways that makes you greater than Pol Pot.” Noting Eddie’s confusion he continued. “They didn’t teach you about him either…so sad. Mind shouldn’t be wasted boy. Sad indeed. You know all I’ve ever wanted to do is help you little monkeys. It isn’t only Ally, boy, you have hundreds of more interesting discoveries to make. You are shaping up to be one of my favorite little killers Eddie.”
“February 17, 2005: Little Ally came to your house something about Pokemon.” He smirked. With those changes Eddie, you never played Pokemon. You became involved in sports—basketball actually given your height. Ally went out riding on her bike on that day. If it’s any consolation she never saw the car that killed her.” He pretended to wipe away a tear.
Eddie hit him in the face with the shovel. He felt a sickening crunch as the man collapsed to the ground. He lifted the shovel again only to see Michaela staring up at him.
“Do you want to give this up, lover?” She ran her hands down her body.
Eddie hesitated, “None of this is true,” his voice was ragged.
“True, false, what does it matter? It will all be true soon enough. Just accept it, Eddie.” Her voice had acquired the deep rasp of the graveyard man. Her smile tilted as if she knew a secret and wasn’t about to share.
Eddie swung the shovel again and realized that he—he didn’t have a girlfriend anymore.
“Son, the most important thing in the world is your family.” Michaela was gone Eddie now stared down at his dad. “Ed, don’t you want your family to stay together.”
Eddie swung again. A buzzing started beneath his temples. His dad didn’t live with them anymore. It was his fault.
“Stop!” The shovel halted in midair. Eddie saw himself prone, his face smeared with blood and dirt. “Don’t mess this up,” warned his doppelganger. “Do you want to be forgettable again?—like you were before.”
Maybe you’re right about me,” Eddie said hitting him again. Maybe I am forgettable. Maybe I am a killer. Maybe Ally being gone is my fault.” Eddie was crying and swinging the shovel into the man again and again until the resistance went away and the shovel smacked against the earth to the crush of glass. The man was gone. Eddie turned the shovel over to see a shattered pocket mirror.
“Eddie, is that you?” There was a trembling voice behind him. He dropped the shovel and turned. Ally’s tiara was lopsided and one of her dragonfly wings had been torn off. She was clenching and unclenching her hands.
“Ally!” he yelled. His eyes drawn to her torn costume, and the dark stains across her chest “You’re bleeding!”
“It’s not my blood,” she said flatly, her blue eyes as pale as a glacier.
He ran to her, and wrapped her in his arms. They began sobbing, words blending together incoherently. Ally wiped her face with her hands. and looked him in the eyes, “I had the type of life I wanted. It seemed perfect. My parents were more normal. They had jobs. I…I had it all, but then I noticed you weren’t there. I looked for you and couldn’t find you. Finally, I came here. I saw your…” she looked at the headstone and quickly looked away. “He said that I changed things—that it was my fault. You were dead, Eddie.”
“So were you, Al,” he spoke in a rush uncertain of what he was going to say next. “When I realized what I’d given up. I only wanted it back…wanted you back. This perfect life wasn’t perfect without you. It wasn’t worth it.” Eddie’s face flushed. He began to turn away. Ally reached up and put her hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes. Eddie’s bent down to kiss her fully on the lips, his hands cupped the small of her back.
In another city, a boy dressed like a pirate leans down to pick up a small pocket mirror shining in the moonlight. The tree limbs rattle and leaves swirl in a circle around him as if moved by the wind. Unseen, an old man folds his white-feathered wings in front of him to become a rumpled linen shirt.
~~~
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
..but WOW wot a read
