SUMMER CHILLER CONTESTANT

Chad stared out of his bedroom window to the yard next door. Every kid in the neighborhood laughed and ran around, having the time of their lives. Chad glanced at Clarissa, the big bright birthday hat on her head, surrounded by the other kids. A table sat in the middle of the yard, a huge pink cake the center piece, surrounded by brightly wrapped gifts of all shapes and sizes. He thought Clarissa’s eyes shot toward him, and he hid behind the wall.
 
His mother walked into his bedroom and sighed. “Why don’t you go over, Chad? It’s summer vacation, you need to play with the other kids, get some sun for God’s sake.”
 
Chad furrowed his brow and looked toward his mother. “I wasn’t invited, mom. I can’t just go over there, it would be stupid.”
 
She took him in her arms and brushed the hair out of his eyes. “Well, what better way to make friends than to go over and meet the other kids?”
 
His family had only been living in the neighborhood for about a month. Chad didn’t feel comfortable enough to just walk up to someone and start playing. School didn’t start for another few weeks, and he just figured he could meet some kids there. Staring down at the party, he did feel left out. He longed to be with the others, running around and laughing, maybe playing some games. He missed his best friend, Oscar. He still felt anger toward his parents for making him move away.
 
“It’s okay, mom. I’ll just read my book.”
 
She shook her head and walked toward his bedroom door. Glancing back, she said, “Are you sure, honey?”
 
“Yes, mom. I don’t wanna go to some dumb girl’s party, anyway.”
 
With a nod and a sigh, his mother left him alone in his room.
 
Chad went right back to the window and watched the party. He felt the sun’s punishing rays hitting the glass of the window. Days had never been that hot in his home town, and he wished he was with Oscar, riding their bikes down the street. Now that he thought about it, no other day in his new town had been that hot, either.
 
Staring down at the kids, he noticed how badly they sweat. Their clothes damp with it, big round stains around their necks and armpits. The cake on the table seemed to be drooping, the frosting glistening. Chad licked his lips. The cake looked good, and he found himself hating the other kids for getting to taste it.
 
His eyes found Clarissa again, and he grinded his teeth. She knew he was new in town, and not only that, but he was her neighbor. How could she just leave him out like that? What kind of spiteful person would have a party that big, and just ignore the new kid?
 
“Stupid girl. I hope the sun melts your stupid cake.”
 
The heat made Chad sweat, even from the comfort of his room. He wiped the beads from his forehead and watched the birthday girl. He had to admit that she was very pretty. A group of boys surrounded her, all laughing and going on about something. She laughed along with them, playfully hitting and touching them. Chad’s hands curled into fists. He slammed them against his window, making a louder bang than he anticipated. Ducking behind the wall again, he hoped to God nobody had heard it. He would go from being the new kid to the creepy new kid in a matter of seconds.
 
Gaining the courage to look, he found that nobody seemed to heave heard the bang. His mother came into view, walking among the kids. Chad’s stomach dropped to the floor as he already knew what she was up to.
 
“Oh, God. Please don’t, mom. Please.”
 
He watched as she marched past the gift table and up to the group of adults standing around. She smiled as she joined them, talking and motioning with her hands. She suddenly pointed toward his window and Chad ducked again. He felt like he could die. Why were adults so stupid? Didn’t his mother understand the embarrassment of showing up to a party that you weren’t invited to, all because your mom walked over and asked.
 
“I could kill you, mom. I swear to God.”
 
The heat seemed to be getting more intense. Chad pulled his shirt off and used it to wipe his face. He snuck a peek through the window to see if his mother was finished embarrassing him. The party had stopped.
 
The kids were still there, the adults were still there, but the movement had completely died. Every person in the yard stared up at the sky. The cake had become a multi-colored pool of liquid, running off the sides of the table. He watched as the green grass turned a brownish yellow color.
 
What are they looking at?
 
He placed his hand on the window and jerked it away. The heat on the glass singed his skin. He put his finger into his mouth.
 
Nobody moved, just stared into the sky. The plastic cups that the adults held in their hands turned to ooze and dripped onto the yellow grass. The gifts on the table burst into flame. Nobody seemed to notice.
 
Chad saw his mother, standing with the strangers, staring upward. A shudder ran down his spine seeing his mother that way. She didn’t look like herself, a blank expression on her face.
 
Chad wanted to bang on the glass, yell for her to come home. His window dripped, molten glass oozing down his wall. The heat from outside hit him like a wave.
 
“Mom! What’s going on?” he screamed.
 
The people’s gazes shifted, their clothes turning to ash as they stared toward his bedroom. They opened their mouths in unison, a bright blinding light erupting from their throats. The same brightness shone from their eyes as they stared at Chad, their naked bodies glistening in the scorching heat. The neighbor’s house smoked as flames engulfed the roof.
 
As he stared back, he realized that he needed to be with them. He longed to join them and bask in the glory of the sun. It felt good to stare into the brightness of their faces, the light warming Chad to the bone. 
Pulling his soaking clothes from his body, Chad leaped from his window.

 

©2009 Shane MacKenzie

“The way I see it, your life is my property,” said Mitch, staring up at the newspaper clippings. He would never forget that day, couldn’t forget that day.

“Please, this is crazy,” said the man, staring at Mitch from behind the metal bars.

Mitch didn’t look at him, just kept studying the old papers stapled to the wall. His hand reached up and scratched his mangled cheek.

“I have money, lots and lots of money,” said the man, pleading with Mitch.

“Money is meaningless now,” said Mitch, finally directing his eyes toward the man, “maybe at one time, but not anymore.”

The man breathed deeply, staring at Mitch with a helpless look. Tears began running down his face, his lip quivering as he began to speak again.

“What did I do? Why am I here?”

“It’s not what you did, but what you failed to do.”

Mitch directed his attention back to the wall, a clipping showing a person wrapped in bandages caught his attention. He reached up and touched the image, his face grimacing. He slowly turned his head back to his prisoner.

“All I ever wanted was to help people, you know that?” he said, his hand still on the picture, “ever since I was a kid.”

He ripped the clipping from the wall, trudged toward the cage, and tossed it in.

“Pick it up and take a look.”

He did as he was instructed, shaking his head as he stared at the photo.

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t.”

Mitch reached into the cage and snatched back the paper.

“They told me I was a real hero.”

“Look, this has nothing to do with me. You have to let me go.”

“This has everything to do with you, don’t you see?”

The man pressed his body against the metal, reaching out to Mitch. His voice cracked between words as he spoke.

“Please tell me what I did, I want to resolve this.”

Mitch laughed as he stuck the paper back to the wall. He tore another from the collage and walked toward the man. Again, he tossed the photo into the cage.

“You recognize that building?”

“I know this building burned down. Just because I lived there doesn’t mean I had anything to do with it!”

“I could care less how that fire started, that is irrelevant.”

“Then why do you have me here?”

“I rescued six people that day. They told me I was crazy, but I couldn’t give up.”

“Wait, are you saying what I think you are?”

“I pulled you from your apartment. You were unconscious when I found you. Smoke was everywhere.”

“You saved my life, I owe everything-”

“Shut your fucking mouth, don’t start with that!”

The prisoner quieted, staring up at the mutilated man.

“The ceiling collapsed on me when I was bringing out the last. Just a kid, maybe six or seven, her family forgot she was asleep in her room.”

Mitch paced the room, all the while scratching his face.

“She didn’t make it. She died in my arms while I was burning alive. Everybody thought I was dead already.”

Mitch grabbed something from the ground and began walking toward the cage again. The smooth skin of his face was glistening in the light.

As Mitch approached the cage, the man realized what was in his grasp. He jumped up, ramming his body against the back of the cage, trying to put as much distance as possible.

“Look, I’m sorry for what happened. Don’t do this!”

“While I was lying in the hospital, I kept wondering what I was gonna do. They told me that my insurance was refusing to pay, that I had no business running back into a burning building, can you believe that?”

“That’s terrible, nobody should go through that.”

“My thoughts exactly. So I wrote letters, wrote them everyday. I sent at least three to you, did you get em?”

The man’s brow furrowed as he dug into his memory. He slightly recalled getting letters in the mail, but couldn’t remember exactly what they said.

“I-I can’t remember.”

Mitch splashed the contents from his jug into the cage, drenching the man from top to bottom.

“Stop, please stop! I’ll do anything, just stop!”

“I begged for help, couldn’t figure who else to turn to. I figured if nobody in the world wanted to help me, at least six people would. But I was wrong.”

More splashes of liquid, the smell stinging their nostrils.

“What can I do to fix this? I can give you anything you want!”

“I lost everything, my job, my home, all of my belongings. I gave up my life so you people could go on with yours, and for what?”

“Because you are a good man.”

“Maybe I used to be, until I saw how things really are. I never got anything back from any of you, not one fucking letter.”

The empty jug hit the floor, bouncing on the ground in front of the cage. Mitch reached into his pocket for his matchbook.

“You let me outta here God damn it! I’m sorry!”

“I’m not going to kill you. I’m just taking back what I gave you.”

“Don’t do this!”

“You would be dead already if it wasn’t for me. The second I needed some help, all was forgotten. Is that how it works?”

“I admit it, I fucked up. I promise I’ll change, anything you say, just let me out.”

“That’s funny, that’s what the rest of them said, that they would change. It’s really easy to change when it’s forced on you, isn’t it?”

His face lit up as he ran the match across the rough edge, his skin wrinkled and shiny.

“No! Don’t do it, please!”

As the match bounced on the floor of the metal cage, Mitch remembered the little girl. He wondered how different things would be if he had grabbed her first, left the rest of them to burn.

—
©2009 Shane McKenzie

“I am a 26 year old that lives with his fiance and two dogs in Austin, TX. I work for the police department as a 911 call taker. I eat, drink, and breathe horror, have been this way since I can remember.”