The backdrop was down. The set had an apocalyptic feeling, the burning buildings lining the dark gothic streets made me feel uneasy even though I knew it was make-believe. 

I loved heavy metal, and this rock band was at the top of my list, The Troubled Kitties. It was the first concert I attended. Their act was different than the videos on T.V. They behaved inappropriately, jumping around, grabbing their own body parts, throwing unbelievable things. The crowd followed their lead. I even lost my seat.

The mass left quickly, mid performance, when gunfire rang out. It was a peaceful departure, no one trampled anyone, there wasn’t much pushing or shoving. It felt awkwardly like elementary school, single file lines leading to every emergency exit. That’s the way I would have chosen it had I been able to determine the aftermath of my actions. 

I was the only one in the venue, now. 

I managed to wade through the litter and trash strewn down the aisles, making my way to the stage.

And… there he was, the reason for it all……..

“Come here little guy.” He was balled up behind one of the colossal speakers that belted out the electric guitar I liked. The way they tossed him from person to person in the audience and up to the performers made me wonder how he was still living, tiny fella; skin and bones.

I gently reached my hand out to see if he would accept my help. “Meow.” When he licked my fingers, I knew he was okay. I gently scooped him up and put him inside my coat. 

“Sir, possible active shooter!” A guy in all black with a giant shield took me by the arm and rushed me and my new friend to safety. Those big men wouldn’t know that I shot in the air to make the people stop, I stuck my gun in a lady’s open tote on her way to the door. Maybe someone would’ve noticed but they weren’t paying attention. Momma told me to watch my surroundings and protect those who cannot protect themselves. Not everyone has a good momma like me.

“Auntie June, tell us the story of the handsome man, pleassseeee.” My nieces always wanted to hear the tale but tonight, I needed to rest. I went back there only in my thoughts. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I spotted his reflection in the circular mirror of the vintage vanity that had been sold at auction three weeks earlier. He wasn’t the highest bidder but was sent by her to pick it up. His greasy, out of place hair stood straight up on his head. The hoodie he wore was wrinkled and smelled of cigar smoke.

“I can see you, too.” His voice strained and raspy. He ran his fingers across his brow and moaned, suffering from a headache, I supposed. “I know who you are.” He speculated; I was sure.

My salon folded; I sold off everything to survive. I struggled to let the vanity go, it had a super-natural history, one that left me crowned winner of many pageants. With its purchase also went my beauty, a conscious choice for me.

“You shouldn’t be here.” I muttered, keeping my forehead placed against the dry-wall. A quick glance was okay but a deep look would violate the code of ownership.

He slid his feet across the dusty hardwood floor. “So, you say.” 

If he knew who I was, he should’ve refused this job, and if she knew the value of her purchase, she should’ve better instructed him. Only but one can transform by the reflector.

“Careful not to stare.” I alerted him.

“Or what?” He stepped to face me. “I knew you were her.”

He sighed and moved away, unwilling to heed my warning. 

He soaked up his own appearance and immediately transformed. He grew taller and polished. His eyes glowed a radiant hazel, his hair magnificently groomed and the manner in which he carried himself, no longer grungy. He was lovely.

“Beauty Queen!” He roared, admiring his metamorphosis. 

“The fairest of them all sold her charm just to live.” His cackle echoed through the room. 

“And…. you stole it from its new owner.” The mirror exploded, launching shards of glass out into the room, puncturing, and embedding it’s spears into his fair face. His eyes filled with blood as he fell three stories to his death. When summoned by those who cherish themselves, he returns to take their souls. If only others believed it to be more than a legend. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“MIRROR MAN…MIRROR MAN…MIRROR…..”

“Girls, NO!!!!”

The bright lights swirled around the top of the ticket booth. Carnival music filled the air. I held tight to my little one’s hands. They used all the strength a set of seven-year-old twin girls could possibly possess in order to pull me quickly to the entrance.

We settled on two weeks in the summer after the divorce, the courts agreed. I tried to make the time as memorable as possible.

I slipped my credit card out of my worn leather wallet to pay the outrageous fee for a day of thrills. The first one: declined. The second one, I swore to only use for emergencies, went through with ease.

Enticed by the blue and pink cotton candy, we made the purchase. Our next stop was the restroom, to wipe the wet, colored sugar from the edges of their mouths. Gone for too long, I preyed on the kindness of an elderly woman to go in and check on my identical beauties. She brought them out, still all smiles. I thanked her before we moved on to an age-appropriate ride.

The wind from the roller coaster alerted me to take a few steps back, a couple of inches too short for them to ride that one – I was glad.

“Daddy, the moving house!” They pointed up towards they sky. “Can we? Please!” I let my fear of heights subside and joined the other children and their parents in the hideous line.

“Welcome to our home.” The operator instructed everyone to find a seat and buckle in while he told a ridiculous story of a man who used a water mill to lift his house into the air. That must be how the Egyptians moved their stone to the top of the pyramids. My thought was sarcastic.

A red circle popped up on my texting app just in time for lift off. I opened the message. “I will be remarrying in the fall and taking the girls to Germany.” Of course, she couldn’t tell me that in person.

Sitting on a makeshift couch in between my children, I placed my arms around their tiny shoulders and laughed. “Possession is nine tenths of the law.”

“What’d you say, daddy?” Synchronized as usual. “Nothing! Weeeee doggy, this ride is fun!”

She can’t regain what she will not find.

She sturdied herself using the aged door frame and then slowly stepped onto the porch. Her hair a coarse gray, a single braid circled her noggin.

She carried a sterling holder, the flicker from the candle was the only light the night could see other than the full moon. It gave off just enough glow to show the many markers placed sporadically throughout the property. 

His long, wide feet clad in his weathered leather shoes heavily stepped behind her. He put his wrinkled hand upon her shoulder. Both blended in with the darkness, still choosing to put on the same black suit and dress that was given to them when they first took on the duties of the house. They now owned the home. 

The couple stared off into the distance but for a moment. He knew her heartache but not to the extent unto which she felt the pain. “Which one is it this time, dear?” He spoke of the cries that echoed over the hillside. “Number twenty-seven.” She whispered as she buried her head into the old man’s chest. There were thirty-eight tombstones, holding thirty-eight of her infant children that never made it past day one. She spent thirty-two of her years with child, none of whom she was able to nurture, and watch grow, or even give a proper name.

The wickedness of Vitality Manor fed off each of the newborns as they entered the world, taking their first and last breath all at once, giving the property the strength it needed to survive.

She looked up at her beloved, bags under her eyes, lines throughout her forehead, her lips tightened from the years of frowning in grief. “It was never your fault.” She spoke clearly and with authority as she pushed her husband to the ground, knowing his weakened physical state would not allow for him to regain an upright position.

She dropped the candle to the ground, igniting a fire. She kneeled down beside him, falling gently over. They held onto one another, giving the house their only asset, their lives, an old poison that would suffocate everything in its path. The already dead land would soon disintegrate.

 

“That moment we’ve been preparing for… Well it’s here!” Skeeter ran through the kitchen, his tennis shoes screeching across the linoleum floor. I turned up the volume on the police scanner, fixed the antenna a bit to get rid of the static distorting the dispatcher’s words, leaned down, folded my arms on the cabinet and listened the best I could.

“Shhhhhhh!” I turned back to him. His eyes wide, he was nearly jumping up and down. I couldn’t tell if it was from the excitement of finally getting to try out our newest invention or if it was from the X-citement we’d been cooking up in the basement.

“Yeah little brother, they’re coming alright.” I figured they were still a good ten minutes away seeing as they had to find our exact location. That’s one reason we chose to move out here in the middle of nowhere. What’s that old saying? “If a tree falls in the forest, and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?” Well…if nobody can see us, are we really here? Made sense to me.

I waved my hands in front of my face and laughed at Skeeter. “You can’t see me!” He started to do the same but stopped to pick a scab on his cheek and became distracted when it started to bleed.

“Flip the switch, dummy!” I yelled, realizing time was running out. He looked as if he just won an Oscar. “Me? You’re letting me do it?” His tone was now a little emotional. Annoyed, I pushed him out of the way and did it myself.

The house began to shake as the curtains of grass and greenery covered the home, concealing us from law enforcement. It rattled and clanked and then it began to grind to a halt. Our cover was blown, literally! The gear froze and left the top part of our lab exposed.

“Freeze… Get down on the ground! Put your hands behind your head….And for goodness sakes boy, wipe that white powder off your nose!”

With my face pressed down against the floor, I struggled to turn my head to look in Skeeter’s direction. “You just had to have a window in your room.” The lonely window allowed the breach.

The crisp morning air and clear blue skies invited me outdoors to have my first meal of the day.

I sat down on one of the many rocks that multiplied up the hill. My ear buds poured out the golden oldies giving me a feeling of peace. 

Facetime – interrupted my vibe. “Hey.” I answered. “I miss you.” His voice made me cringe just a little, the sight of him, more. 

I needed the time away, but technology wouldn’t let me get too far. “Same.” I wondered if he could see the lie on my face. “Pan around, let me take a gander at the beautiful landscaping of Utah.” His voice was full of energy. 

I glared back into the camera. “I can do you one better.” I stood up, sat my breakfast down, leaned my phone against a stone and let him peer out across the land. “Jenipher.” I stood out of view, arms crossed with my legs nervously bouncing. “I’m still here.” I said from a distance. But for how long, I wasn’t sure.

I turned my attention to the home below when I heard the screen door slide across the metal track. My stomach knotted up with decisions, definitely not butterflies. 

“Hey Jenipher, my grandmother wants you to bring her dish back inside. That’s an artifact, decades old, made by the Pech Indians in Honduras, not a cereal bowl!” My newest friend laughed at me. I felt my face flush with embarrassment. 

“Who was that? Who was that?” My phone’s speaker crackled from the loud tone of voice my husband now implemented. “Who was that man?” I hurriedly grabbed my phone, it slipped back  through my shaking hands, landing face down. My screen broke into a spiderweb of lines. “Ben, I’m sorry!” I could no longer see him, but I could hear the key unlock the cabinet door. “Ben!” My tears warmed the chill that now froze my blank face.

The sounds on the other side were exceedingly familiar. He threatened this so many times before. I didn’t think he would actually…………………… SILENCE filled the air.

 

The dogs barking echoed through the cold morning air. The Hoovers awoke to find little Sally Lynn missing. She was only three years old, with the blondest, curliest hair you could imagine. Her eyes a sky blue.

There were no signs of forced entry, authorities tore the house apart but there was nothing leading to her where abouts. The only thing concrete were footprints in the snow. 

Her mother, wrapped up in an afghan refused to let the search team go at it alone. Her husband, close by, his hand tightly intwined with hers. He whispered as the dogs sped across the wooden bridge. “There’s no way she’s in that frozen pond.” His words causing Sally’s mother to fall to her knees. He quickly lifted her back up. The lead detective gave him a scowl. “Mrs. Hoover, we are doing everything we can. There is no reason to believe Sally is in the water. We just want to be thorough in our efforts.”

The closest neighbor, nearly a mile away, no one seen or heard anything.

Mrs. Hoover’s freezing red face turned an abrupt pale, stopping the officers in their tracks as they called for the dogs to halt.

She reared back and with an abundance of force smacked Paul Hoover across the face, screaming at the top of her lungs. “What did you do to my baby?” The couple had only been married for about a year. The suspicion was there for all of us, and a mother’s intuition is usually the biggest clue to be found. 

It wasn’t long before cell phone pings and cameras gave way to Paul Hoover’s secret.

Mrs. Hoover had been sick with the flu and in the bed for nearly three days. Paul’s urge for a drink pushed him to take little Sally Lynn to the local bar, leaving her unattended in his truck for what he believed would be just a moment. The already subzero temperatures dropped. Paul’s minutes turned to hours as Sally Lynn shook and froze in her car seat that he so caringly put her in. 

He confessed, though his crime would have found him out when the spring thaw revealed her location. 

 

“You have to throw the rock if you want to be part of our group!” We hid behind the concrete wall that separated the landscaping from the walkway in front of the peer.

I was new to the area and of course I wanted to be part of the in crowd, or so I thought. I should have known better, two fellas named Harvey and Clayton. They had to be no good.

“Let’s go, Harv. This guy is not meant to be a member of the H.H.H.” Clayton said to his minion when I didn’t immediately take the stone I was offered.

Maybe they were right. What is a Hypnotic, Hype Heathen, anyway? That’s what they called themselves. They continued to whisper their cruelties, nudging me from side to side with their frail little shoulders.

“Take it, doofus.” Harvey pressed it closer to my face. We all stood up. I took a step back, offended by his breath.

I knew what they were asking me to do but the little stained-glass home reminded me of how my grandfather, a glassmaker, put so much time and love into pieces such as these. I presumed this house was a bit of a metaphor maybe, reminding us that everyone’s dwelling is stained whether you throw rocks near it or not. An encouragement for people to be mindful of casting judgement on others as they walked in droves near the waters edge, taking a thought of purity back to their abodes.

Harvey and Clayton thought it would be funny for a rock to fly crashing through the colors, a righteous initiation to their club. I, on the other hand realized how childish this was.

Harvey moved in closer, invading more of my personal space. I struck him with a powerful elbow to the chest, putting my weight into the blow. He tripped and fell, jumping up, red faced with his fists balled. We tussled onto the asphalt, tangled in an embrace of anger. I gave him one final push. His arms waved violently in the air as he tried to keep his balance. His feet caught up beneath him. He fell towards the glass house. I quickly grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him back up. We made eye contact as Clayton hurled the rock through the tiny structure.

The metal cuffs were cold as they fastened around my wrists. I didn’t notice the policeman close by as Harvey and Clayton bolted off.

As the new kid, I realized I would never fit in here.

I ran as fast as my feet would allow, rounding the corner into the lonely alley a few blocks from my home. Out of breath from my abrupt journey, I stumbled forward, bracing myself for impact with the brick wall. My heart was beating strong, giving a clue that it was still present though I felt like it had been ripped out a few times this week.

I was so tired.

I turned my back to the structure, slid down to the ground, bent my knees, and then wrapped my arms around them. I held tightly to my own hands. 

I was alone. 

My head fell forward as the tears began to flow. I was in the midst of my own personal storm. The thunder was frightening, and the lightning gave way to truths that hide in the dark.

I was scared.

I couldn’t prevent the thoughts that entered my mind, I could only try to make it through the hours ahead and hope that tomorrow would be more realistic for me. I could usually decipher whether the dark, gloomy sadness was a reason to grieve or …… if the excess energy should be carried out to the tune of a blissful event, something over the top, maybe. But today I was unable to know the difference.

I was confused.

No one would look for me because I only mattered when I was needed. I was good at being useful, worrying about everything and everyone. Lately, I felt as big as the tiny ant I noticed walking across the stones. The thought of the insect’s strength refueled a bit of my hope. I pulled myself up by the concrete flower bed, pricking my finger in the process. I pressed firmly on its tip, allowing a drop of blood to exit the torn skin. A subtle hint of mental relief appeared in the form of pain.

I exhaled.

I would survive this roller coaster, yet again.

 

A Wing and a Prayer

“The python should never be here and the birds, they should have left long before now.” I could barely hear Phillip over the ski mobile’s roaring engine as we trekked through the deep snow. The rumble from underneath the drift gave clue to its slithering path. “Do you think it’s still here?” I leaned up putting my mouth close to his ear. He turned his goggle covered face towards me and nodded.

I wasn’t too worried about the birds, but the snake reared its mighty head and then dove back under the cold as if it were gliding through the tropics. We caught him on our wildlife cam. His head large and bumpy, covered by a dark green silk skin. I had never seen anything like this. It took less than five minutes for us to jump into our gear and head out. The mighty snake was still travelling when we reached the beginning point of its journey. I suspected it to be at least forty feet in length and possibly a foot in diameter.

“Let’s go back! What is it we intend to do, anyways?” Phillip ignored my pleas and continued to follow the serpent’s belly marks which halted directly under the frozen tree.

“It’s stopped.” Phillip turned off the snow mobile but the echo from underneath the accumulation was still quite piercing. “Phillip, it’s moving around us, listen.” We could see the circular pattern blocking us in. “We have to get out of here.” He shouted. The vehicle couldn’t escape the round drifts the animal made, moving forwards, and then sliding backwards into the trunk of the tree. We were stuck! “We must climb to the top of that tree or we’re his!” Phillip pushed me on.

We dug our boots into the ice-covered bark as the snake raised up nearly eye level to us. He hissed and moaned then curled up at the bottom of the tree, laying there at peace, guarding his prey.

“What are we going to do?” I blamed Phillip for his unwise hastiness. “Pray.” He faithfully spoke. I was a believer, so what better way to end my journey here on earth. There was no escaping this. I closed my eyes.

“Look!” Phillip pointed. “The birds are coming back.” Each member of the flock grasped our coat threads with their small beaks and in unison delivered us back to our home. We agreed, they must be angels.