I came to the end of the pavement and slowed the car, the headlights showed the ruts and potholes in the gravel ahead. I could see Theresa’s house three hundred yards off, the porchlight on, shining across strange streamers and shapes in the yard. I edged the accelerator down, driving a little faster than I normally would on this part of their road.
When I’d called earlier Sarah had sounded so odd, and couldn’t say where Theresa was. ‘Mommy’s in Maisy-Sue,’ she’d said after I’d asked for Theresa twice. ‘She says Emmett’s coming back so I gotta make more wards ‘cos he’ll find me.’ And she’d hung up. And she wouldn’t pick up when I rang back.
It was a three hour drive to Allister, another twenty minutes up Goller Road to my sister’s house. Mommy’s in Maisy-Sue? What the hell did that mean? I’d bought Sarah her Maisy-Sue doll when she was born. And who was Emmett? Another low-life boyfriend?
The car thumped in a deeper pothole and I slowed again. I heard a sound, like a hushed voice nearby, just outside the car, but really too quiet to hear over the gravel. I saw a light in the trees, like someone moving with a flashlight. ‘Is that …?’ the voice said, trailing a little. Perhaps not a voice, perhaps just the crunch of stones under the tires. The flashlight shone right at me, then was gone.
The car bumped again. The road was in a worse state than when I’d been up here a couple of months back. Allister Works only came up this way every few years to re-grade.
I turned into the driveway. There were cloth stars fluttering on the gate. The size of my palm, black marks scrawled on them, nailed into the posts. Sarah’s latest creative project.
‘There,’ someone said. ‘I’m Emmett … you seem …’ I jerked around and saw the flashlight again, moving towards me. I got out of the car. ‘Hey,’ I called.
‘No stars, no stars,’ again more like a whisper. ‘Can’t find my way … distracting.’
‘What?’
‘… dis … dis … d … ing.’ The light went out. Moments later another light flared on a hundred yards away, flickered on the trees, went out. I got back in and was moving up the long drive before the door was even closed.
There were more cloth shapes along the drive and in the yard. Some on sticks, some under stones. I stopped and got out at the porch. There was another light in the fields, dancing over sleeping animals.
Under a rock at my feet there was a cloth star. I bent down and pulled it out, looking at it in the porchlight. The marks were words in black permanent marker. “Away, away, no one here, look away. ”
‘Put it back.’ Another voice, different. Vague and distant, but less harsh. I couldn’t blame imagining voices in the crunch of gravel now.
‘Theresa?’ I said. I dropped the cloth and climbed up the steps.
‘Closer,’ the voice said. ‘He’s closer again.’
I knocked on the door and noticed the Maisy-Sue doll sitting against the frame, facing out into the yard. ‘Theresa?’ I called, knocking again. ‘Theresa.’
‘Away,’ the first voice said. ‘Far away, but looking.’
I glanced over my shoulder, still knocking.
The door opened and there she was, eight-year-old eyes blinking up at me from under birdsnest hair. ‘Uncle Andrew?’
‘Sarah.’ She was in grubby pyjamas and ragged bunny slippers. ‘Where’s your Mommy?’
‘Mommy?’ Sarah rubbed an eye with a tiny fist. ‘Mommy’s in Maisy-Sue.’
‘Get inside,’ the second voice said, so distant, so fragile.
‘Why?’ Sarah asked, looking at the doll.
‘Come on Sarah,’ I said. ‘Let’s get you cleaned up.’
‘Okay.’
She took my hand and we went into the house.
‘Far away,’ a whisper came.
Then the second voice, ‘Inside.’
What was going on? This was more than just mis-hearing gravel or the wind. ‘Theresa?’ I called.
‘I said, Mommy’s in Maisy-Sue. She says Emmett’s still mad. He’s got no Maisy-Sue to go to so he’s looking for me.’
‘Inside Maisy-Sue?’ I glanced back at the doll as I began to close the door. Staring out into the fields. And there in the fields the flashlight again. Stronger, closer, flickering into my eyes. The door clicked shut.
‘Inside,’ Sarah said. ‘Pretty clever, huh? She came back to protect me from Emmett. She told me to make the stars and shapes and do the writing to confuse him.’
‘Confuse?’
‘He’s still mad, still looking for Mommy.’ We walked along the hallway towards the downstairs bathroom. ‘He still thinks he can get her good, but Mommy’s scared for me. She’s in Maisy-Sue.’
‘Yeah, you said.’ I reached for the bathroom door and Sarah shrieked. I jumped at the sound and she pulled back from me. ‘What?’ I said.
‘Maisy-Sue says I’m not allowed in there.’
‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘I’m here now. We’ll get you cleaned up.’ I grabbed the handle.
Sarah screamed and ran along the passage. I opened the bathroom door and saw Theresa, lying near the door, grey and bloodied, track marks on the tiles where she’d dragged herself in her last moments. I sucked in my breath, crouched to her. A heavy hunting knife in her hand. And there, bent over the bath, as grey and bloodied himself, another body. Emmett, I realised. The stink of their decay rolled over me.
I looked at Sarah, standing at the open front door, clutching Maisy-Sue and screaming. The light was right behind her blazing. He’d found her.
‘Here,’ the lost voice said. ‘Here at last.’
I sprinted and scoooped her up in my arms, grabbing the door and turning.
‘Me,’ Theresa’s whisper rushed from Maisy-Sue. Sarah hurled Maisy-Sue into the light.
I slammed the door and we collasped onto the floorboards. There was howling outside, and the light faded. Sarah and I leant against the wall breathing.
‘No more whispers,’ She said.
—
©2009 Sean Monaghan
Sean Monaghan works in a busy public library and teaches creative writing. Sean has recent stories in MicroHorror and PowderBurnFlash. More details at his website www.venusvulture.com
Tags: Sean Monaghan
April 23rd, 2009 at 4:54 pm
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