I remember thinking my dad was a giant marshmallow every time he walked through the gate after another journey through space. I was to young to comprehend the white bubbly suit with the fishbowl helmet he wore, but what I did understand was the gold locket he kept in his pocket. one side held a picture of me, the other, my mother. He told me he wanted to be sure he had his Angels close by while he was floating around the heavens.

It seemed fitting that my husband graduated the space camp in Huntsville and met my father after winning a “once in a lifetime time experience”, at least that’s how they advertised it back then.

Riley travelled to the Silicon Valley to train in the vertical motion simulator, one of NASA’s top aides, so realistic, it was held in a ten story building. It was quite a prize. My father just so happened to be the instructor. It wasn’t long until dad pulled out his trinket and showed him my picture. He bragged on his daughter so much that the two of us met. We became involved, married and now that little plastic contraption has two red lines on it. We’re expecting!

I didn’t care too much for social calls. I was a bit of a loner. So, when Riley’s first flight to the moon came around my fourth month of pregnancy, I was alright with that. My mother went to all my doctors appointments with me and took notes.

I sat alone by the water’s edge and watched the sun go down as I did most nights. I daydreamed about what it was like up there. Mom called me right before I went back in house. “Honey, Riley has a surprise for you. Look at the sky.” As if I weren’t already.

The atmosphere was a mix of a gorgeous blue and pink. The darker color began to fade.

“What do you see?” She asked. “The sky is a calm pink.” I replied.

“The doctor secretly told me what sex your baby is. Your dad radioed it up to Riley. He seeded the clouds from space causing the sky to become a perfect pink. He wanted to give you the best gender reveal ever!”

We both squealed hysterically. “Now, take pictures. We have a heck of a story to tell your daughter!”

“Penny Harpenshire, you silly girl. Those are not eggs.” Mother scolded my little sister for thinking that everyone on the hill received one large egg from the postal service. I threw my hands up. “Well, what do you think it is then mom?”

Penny ran towards the thing. “Stop!” We both shouted.

“I’m not sure what it is but neither of you need to go near it.”

That night as the sun went down and the clouds rolled in, we prepared for bed. The rain began to pounce off the tin roof. The thunder clapped loudly causing me to pull the covers over my head. I felt a slight tug on the sheets. “Can I sleep in here tonight, Matthew?” Penny was scared too. I pretended to be tough for her.

“Sure. I will protect you.” I told her. 

We stayed up most of the night making up stories of what those things really were, finally dozing off right before dawn.

“Get up! Get up!” Mother came running into my room. We both rolled over and sleepily gazed at her. “What is it mom?” I asked while using the back of my hands to wipe my eyes.

“It’s hatched!’ She was so excited. Penny became a little angry. “I told you it was an egg!” She screamed.

“Only bad children yell at their mothers.” Mom pointed her finger in Penny’s face.

“Come on!” She nearly pushed us out the door. 

There were large chunks of eggshell everywhere. Our neighbors were cheering but their children in tears. I looked across the meadow and standing there towering above us, appearing to be half robot, half man, was a thing. I had no word for it. Its legs caught when they bent at the knee. When he finally made it over to us, he handed mother a piece of paper.

“Isn’t it great kids? Our government gifted us childcare so we can save money. Santa will bring more this year. Plus, the internet was doing a terrible job at raising you.”

She knew all along what was in there. This was just another one of her lies.

We secluded ourselves in the decades old, rusted metal bunker. I didn’t think it was a good idea for Jax to open the door. He insisted that the information we were hearing over the radio had to be true. There was now enough clean air to keep mankind alive.

“They wouldn’t tell us it was safe if it wasn’t, Chase.” He turned and looked at me.

“Well, I’m putting on my gear first. You should too, better safe than sorry.”

“I guess you’re right.” He said.

We had both outgrown our protection. The plastic chin straps were cutting into our skin. Still, it was better than chancing our lives. We pulled hard to get them over our heads.

“Put the goggles on also.” He suggested.

I tried but the stretchy plastic snapped off mine stinging my neck like the rubber band Tommy Hargrove shot at me in the second grade. I never will forget that day.

“Just open it!” I was nervous and ready to know my fate.

He went through the motions of lifting the heavy bar that was placed across the entrance.

“Holy, moly! Chase, you have to see this!” I ran to peek out with him.

“Oxygen is hatching everywhere. I told you they weren’t lying.” Jax was giddy with excitement.

“Woah… It’s beautiful.” I stood in awe. We couldn’t contain ourselves. We danced through the fields, catching one after another. We gently sat them down, popping each bubble, letting them explode magnificently around us.

“Ahhhh….. Can you smell that?” I asked.

“Boys! Take those football helmets and swimming goggles off! Dinner is ready! I swear neither of you lack imagination.” Mom yelled from the half open kitchen window.

“That’s momma’s pot roast you’re smelling.” He said. We both laughed.

“Shut the barn door back. If a coyote gets in there, daddy will spank us both.” Jax was always so bossy.

 

THE END.

I cupped my hands around the side of my eyes, and peered through the window. My husband tripped over a stone and fell towards me, pressing my face slightly into the glass. I turned around and with all my might pushed him. He stumbled backwards but managed to keep his balance.

“I hate going anywhere with you!” I balled my fist up to keep from any further physical contact.

He hung his head.

“What time are your clients supposed to arrive?” He just got his real-estate license and somehow thought he could sell this dump.

“They’re already here.” Calmly he walked to the door and unlocked it. Our voices echoed as we made entry.

“There’s no way anyone is here.” I peeked around each door frame, giving myself a tour. I noticed a bronze plaque placed directly above the stone mantel. I could still feel a tad bit of heat coming from the fireplace as if someone had recently been here. I stood on my tippy toes and leaned in to get a better look.

I read the words out loud. “Because you are evil!” I shrugged my shoulders and turned to face Larry. “That’s Stra……….”

———————————–

“I couldn’t take it anymore, the physical and mental abuse radiated through my soul. I grabbed Sheila by her long, red hair and slammed her head into that metal plate repeatedly. When she took her last breath, I could finally breathe. You may see me as a monster but, you have no clue what I have lived through.”

The doctor leaned back in his chair, intertwined his fingers, and gave me a tiny smile, right before his weight caused the chair to fall backwards and hit the wall.

Just my luck, the corner of the bookshelf caught his temple. He died right there in the prison office with me as the only witness. My temporary insanity plea went right out the door with the psychiatrist in a black bag on a gurney.

I flopped down in the passenger’s seat of mom’s car and sighed. 

Once a month she took me to the farmhouse tucked in the middle of nowhere. We drove down the dirt road and then through the feet tall grass to get to my grandfather’s barn. 

She would beep the horn eight times and wait for him to come out. 

The barn door would open and close three times and then he would emerge. He drug his feet a distance before breaking out into a full-blown run. Once he made it to me, he would stand very still and wave me forward “Come on, Jason.” I was wrong for the way I felt but the visit took up my Saturday.

Why did I have to go through this when mom didn’t even speak to the man?

He went back in the same way he came out, I followed. The place was magnificent but seemed pointless.

“Jason, look.” He turned the first dial and called out the numbers. “Seven, two, two.” That was my birthday, I didn’t believe he knew that. He went down the line, dinged every bell, turned every knob, and entered every combination – all seven, two, two. I just watched. Oddly, he never turned the big red wheel.

I didn’t stop my visits. I also, didn’t think I would take it so hard when the old guy passed away. I was twenty-nine years old when I got the call. It was around midnight, the day before my birthday. I cried like a baby, hopped on my motorcycle, and sped to the country. I threw my helmet to the ground and ran straight towards the barn. The lights were on as if the structure awaited me. I turned the knobs, dinged the bells and put in the combinations – still crying.

I looked at the big red wheel and with force, spun it. I heard a clunk and then a rattle. Tons of cash fell from the brass metal pipe near the wall. A note tied to a string dropped last. It read “You are smart. I love you, Jason. From grandad.” I donated the money to help the mentally challenged except for the two-dollar bill that was in the pile. I framed it. It reminded me that different was exceptional.

The wrinkles around her eyes, the gray hair and the limp she possessed gave away her age. She led my brother and I into the parlor and offered us something to drink.

“Won’t you sit with an old lady for a moment?” She asked. My brother lifted his eyebrows signifying he wasn’t feeling the place. I was interested, curious about the white roses held captive in the center of her marble top table.

“Do you like my flowers dear?” She directed her question towards Bert.

“No.” he answered. There wasn’t an empathetic bone in his body. I gave him a slight push and told her they were beautiful.

The doorbell rang as we stood there.

“Wait right here.” She said. We chose to follow her anyways. We had important things to do and needed to leave. Two more children entered blocking us from exiting. She quickly closed the door behind them. The lock turned on its own. We were all trapped.

“You can’t leave until you smell my roses.” Her expression, blank. We all stood there unsure of what was going on.

“Let’s just smell them.” The smallest kid of the group suggested. Her face lit up with a smile. She took one of the keys from her elastic wrist band and moved to open the case.

It was at that exact moment that I noticed a ghostly imagine reflecting from the glass of her secretary. I turned to face the monster. A white mask prohibited us from seeing his face, his body draped in all black. He had one hand placed behind his back. I imagined he carried a butcher knife to chop us all up.

We screamed in horror. I grabbed Bert’s arm and pulled him towards the door, remembering that was no way out.

“Stop!” the lady yelled. We all began to cry. The man removed his mask, the woman peeled the aged skin from her face.

“Kids these days have no sense of excitement.” She spoke to the man.

“It’s a different world now babe.” He replied.

They gave us each a giant Hershey bar and told us it was just a skit, all in the name of fun. 

The four of us panted, trying to regain our breath as we travelled the concrete sidewalk. Other kids on the street pointed and laughed at us. I suppose they had been here before.

We all agreed we were too old to ever trick-or-treat again.

My cane hitting the concrete floor reminded me I was seventy years old now; my body and mind scarred from years of imprisonment. I took many a beating, night terrors caused me to cry in my sleep. Weeping in the big house was looked down upon, made ‘em think I was weak.

The light still buzzed above me like it did when I was a young man. I worked here for nearly a decade when it was an Elementary school, it now houses public records. I loved the kids, spoke to each one that passed me by, some laughed because I always had a broom or mop in my hand. Never had a chance to have a family of my own. I am nobody’s grandpa, never will be.

I came back to this place to put an end to all the heartaches and lies.

I hobbled into the janitor’s closet and shut the door. I sat down in the child sized, metal legged chair. I guess some things never change. I reached into my pocket, pulled out and unfolded the piece of notebook paper that would help bring Jimmy Ray’s truth. 

What I said on the stand that day was true. I had blood on my shirt from dragging that injured pup off the road but, I ain’t never killed that six-year-old boy. I loved them babies. They made me smile. I did forty five years of somebody else’s time. Tomas Hill

I guessed this was suicide in a sense.

Just as I expected Cary Truney opened that closet door and went to shoot me with his handgun. But what a man anticipates, he can stop. I put one right between his eyes. He’d been following me since I got out, scared I would tell his secret. I was a coward back in nineteen fifty-eight, they would have just called me a liar and a murderer had I told ‘em what I seen. I would’ve been killed in the streets. 

Maybe my note would help my case and maybe it wouldn’t. I made honest men out of them twelve and Cary Truney started his life sentence today.

THE END

“Hand me the other can.” Ralph looked at Mindy and grinned. He was a little giddy from the smell. “Go on now, get me the rest of it. I know you got it hidden somewhere.”

Mindy folded her arms across her chest and struggled back to the old aluminum trailer, rust on every side. Her small size five shoe hit the first wooden step hard, the second step, well it broke. Mindy’s no name, black velcro shoe went right through it. Her ankle turned and her leg was stuck there being tormented by the fragments of worn down plank. “Ralph, won’t you come and help me?” She cried out and then rested face down on the top deck.

Ralph wobbled through the grass on a mission to help his sweetheart. After all, there was no one else around for miles. He had to do it whether he was in the right frame of mind or not.

“Mindy, why are you so clumsy?” His words were slurred and drawn out. It took him about four minutes to say them. Mindy didn’t respond.

When he finally made it to her rescue, he jerked the board up with his bare, calloused hands. “See there Mindy, you got yourself a good man.” He smiled, his two front teeth missing and the rest were coated in decay. The walk to the trailer did him some good as far as fresh air was concerned.

“Did you hear what I said?” His speech still jumbled. “Answer me woman or I’m not giving you that anniversary key I just spray painted for you.” She kept her face turned and quivered a bit in fear. Ralph reached down and pulled her head up by her scraggly, dirty blonde hair. Her eyes were big as saucers, her face showing traces of gold. She tried to give him a loving smile.

“Dang it Mindy, that was our last two dollars we spent on that spray paint.”

“I told you we didn’t need two cans, Ralphie.” She limped into their home bending down to grab her paint covered rag on the way.

“We’re going to do better.” They said in sync as they fell over on the couch.

“He struggled over the wooded, dirt covered terrain, dragging one leg, and gripping his side trying to keep his wound closed. His sword: heavy, he left it lying on the ground. It now hangs here by the spiral staircase.” We all turned in that direction.

“The fog rolled in blocking his view. The feel of the walkway beneath his feet was a familiar one. He knew he had made it home unlike several of his fellow soldiers. He collapsed at the doorstep. His loving wife Mary fell to her knees, weeping so loudly it echoed across the land.” He paused, bent down, and took a sip of water from the glass sitting on the floor next to the hall tree. He cleared his throat and continued on.

“Alright, if you would all follow me this way to the Dining room. Look closely at the oriental rug gifted to the General by a foreign leader, you can still see the blood stains where Mary tried to drag her husband inside the home.” He gave us all an opportunity to witness the gore.

“They say he still roams the land searching for his precious Mary, his spirit stuck in the worldly realm desiring but one last look at her.”

I felt my son tug at my sleeve. “Mom, she looks just like you.” Pointing towards the portrait of the husband-and-wife duo. He told me this every time we visited the mansion. At that moment, I felt a cold breeze pass by me. I turned to look but found nothing.

Once again the guide spoke. “If you put both hands behind your back, palms up and close your eyes, you can feel the General place his cold, lifeless hands upon yours.” Of course, everyone tried it. I did feel hands, but they weren’t cold. They felt oddly real and warm.

I snatched my boy up and started to run. I was gently grabbed from behind, spun around and kissed. I blinked repeatedly to regain my vision. I fell to my knees. My dear husband was home from his tour in Iraq. “I knew I would find you here, you history buff, you.” The three of us cried and held each other full of emotion from his surprise homecoming.

I got a small crew of assassins together about a month or so ago. We set out to slay the dragon that was burning all the small villages in Rovascotia. He even managed to take the lives of the Queen and her staff, transforming her castle into his den.

He towered at least seventy feet tall. His footsteps shook the ground. The heat from his breath could be felt a mile away. 

We tracked his every move, learning his daily routine. We studied his species, his odd anatomy. His heart was located on the tip of his fierce tongue and must be punctured to bring his existence to an end. 

We carved many small swords out of steal and perfected our aim. The attack would have to occur as he slept peacefully in his nest. 

Taking our gear, we trekked through the rolling green meadows of the beautiful countryside, holding tight to our makeshift weapons. 

We entered through an opening where the castle door once stood and climbed the rock steps, stunned by the barbaric snoring coming from the loft. We moved cautiously into his den. His mouth opened wide with each deep breath. Quickly, we released our weapons, striking his heart. His eyes bulged in fear as he bellowed out one last horrific scream.

These events led to our own capture. The walls caved in, the ground crumbled, all escape routes were now blocked by castle debris. Positioned in the middle of the rumble was but one giant, glass picture window. No matter what we tried, it just wouldn’t break.

The dragon, deceased had fallen over on his side revealing a monstrous egg. The egg began to crack bringing to light a thin membrane. The monster’s offspring burst through, covered in slime, he cried in search of his mother.

We offered him the only thing we had to give which was love.  He loved us back. We trained him to forcefully move around. By the time our supplies ran low, he had managed to clumsily break the window that held us captive with his tail.

We lured him from his habitat and back to our hometown of Zooxenburg. We built for him a lovely cage. 

The curiosity of our homeland people made us plenty of money. They paid generously to see our find. We considered him lucky to have us.