by Blanche King
will. Mr. Foxworth said that man makes the best pudding in London. Jimmy might end up bigger than me.” George giggled. “And then his hat won’t fit him anymore.”
At the thought of a plump Jimmy waddling down the street, Riley giggled too. It was such a silly idea. And silly ideas were welcome at the end of rainy days.
“You should go next week, George. I’ll ask Mr. Foxworth to let you go before me.”
“Can’t we go together?” George scooted closer as a group of men bellowed below in a drunken riot. “Hey, Riley? Let’s still be friends after we get new families, okay?”
“Of course,” said Riley. “We’ll be best friends forever.”
“And when we grow up, can we get married so we can live in the same house?”
“Good idea,” said Riley. “It’s a promise, then. The madness will end. And then there will be us.”
“We’ll always be together?” said George.
“Until death do us apart.”
The following week, Mr. Foxworth returned but refused to take George before Riley.
“It’s his turn next week,” said Mr. Foxworth. “We mustn’t do things out of order.”
He would not change his mind, despite Riley’s pleas. Amidst the howling wind and rain, Riley followed Mr. Foxworth to his carriage. George ran after them for as long as he could, then stood waving in the distance.
“Where are we going?” said Riley to Mr. Foxworth.
“To my house,” he said. “You’re going to be my little girl. I’ve always wanted a little red-haired girl.”
“Oh,” said Riley. She was quite flattered, but felt the need to ask for a favor. “Could I have George visit me sometimes? You know, when you find him a family too.”
For a moment, Mr. Foxworth said nothing. Then he put down his umbrella and turned Riley towards him. “George is not going to get a family,” he said. “No one wants a sick little boy. These are hard times. People already have plenty of problems of their own.”
“But can’t you at least try?” said Riley. “We can’t leave him under that bridge by himself.”
“Don’t worry about that.” Mr. Foxworth pulled her closer. “The boy has a heart condition. He will not be under that bridge for long.”
Riley couldn’t believe her ears. The generous Mr. Foxworth was going to leave George to die. The good Mr. Foxworth who found families for all the other kids. The Mr. Foxworth that was going to be her father…
Riley pulled away. “Let me out,” she said. “I’m not going to be your daughter anymore. I’m going to take care of George like I promised.”
She pushed at the doors. They wouldn’t open.
“I never said anything about you being my daughter,” said Foxworth. “You will be my little girl. My present to The Society, just like your friends were for mine.”
He grabbed Riley’s wrists.
“No!”
Riley struggled, but the old man tied her up and stuffed his handkerchief into her mouth. When the carriage stopped, the old man stepped out, carrying a fidgeting burlap sack.
“Welcome to The Society.”
Riley felt herself fall into tub of water. Splash. She wiped her face. The crowd roared with laughter.
“Happy baptism!” they said. A man with a lab coat turned on the gramophone. The room filled with circus tunes. Two other men grabbed Riley’s arms. “Say ‘ahh’ for Dr. Baugh!”
The doctor pried open Riley’s mouth and dumped a vial of silver powder down her throat. A sharp pain seared through her stomach. Riley kicked and screamed. Someone dumped her out of the tub. The crowd laughed.
Foxworth stood in the back, chuckling to himself. The music continued.
“Why?” said Riley. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“It’s not just you,” said Foxworth. “Look…”
He pointed to the wall behind the laughing men. Four bodies hung from the ceiling, wrists tied, tongues protruding, their eyes missing. Each had a slit in its stomach, the one on the far left covered in bronze crust, the one on the right still dripping blood. Around their necks, silver chains dangled with a single letter: I, E, S, J... Riley wanted to throw up.
Foxworth turned off the music. “So now you know,” he said. “Your friends were good company. That second one put up a fight. Lasted almost the entire week.”
He shook a vial of silver powder in front of Riley. “It’s a new type of drug Dr. Baugh’s been developing. A cross between a hallucinogen and a sexual stimulant. But without regular doses, the patient feels a searing pain that can’t be cured by anything but the drug itself.” He chuckled. “Relax, we only gave you a little taste. The full dose won’t be administered until after the pudding.”
“And before we forget,” said Dr. Baugh. “We have a surprise for you.”
Foxworth clapped. Someone turned on the music. The sound of shuffling feet caused Riley to look up. Two men dragged a small boy between them.
“Let me go!” George struggled against his capturers. “I have to save Riley.”
One of them kicked him in the stomach, and George doubled over at Dr. Baugh’s feet.
“A little show for you,” said Foxworth. “Since you care so much about your friend.”
He emptied the vial down George’s throat. For a moment, all Riley could hear was a horrid, high-pitched cry. Then it stopped. The music continued. George lay quiet on the floor.
Men gathered around, kicking him repeatedly.
“Stop!” cried Riley. “Please...”
The music got louder. A short, greasy man appeared, carrying a tray of brownish pudding. The men stopped kicking George. Each produced a spoon, digging into the pudding and sticking it in their mouths. Laughter ensued. The music continued. Someone congratulated “Mr. Estel” on his wonderful pudding. He took a spoonful and held it in front of George.
“Eat,” he said. “Little boys love pudding.”
George coughed. Estel grabbed his head and shoved more pudding in George’s mouth. The boy spluttered, coughing, choking. The crowd laughed.
“Do you know why my pudding’s so good?” said Estel, holding a spoonful to Riley’s mouth. Riley shied away. Estel shoved the spoon in her mouth. The searing pain in Riley’s stomach returned. The pudding was awful.
“It’s magic,” said Estel, clapping his hands together. “A pint of blood, a pinch of flesh, and a whole heaping helping of our new medicine.” He leaned closer. “It gives my pudding the extra kick.”
“Riley…”
George coughed. A crowd of men gathered around him. “More, more!” they chanted. One man fed George another spoonful. The crowd laughed harder.
Estel licked his fingers.
“How about I make you into pudding for your little friend over there?”
The whole room laughed as Riley crawled towards the door. Estel took out a knife. George writhed on the ground. The men clapped their hands. “Pop goes the little girl,” they said. Estel raised the knife above Riley’s head. She closed her eyes.
“Riley.”
Laughter.
“Riley!”
Laughter.
“RILEY!”
Clang!
The pudding tray clattered to the ground. Riley watched in horror as a man’s head rolled towards her, spurting blood and covered in pudding. Estel dropped the knife.
“No more.”
George climbed to his feet. “A pint of blood, a pinch of flesh, and a whole heaping helping of our new medicine.” He picked up the knife. “No more pudding, Riley. There’s no more putting.”
“Easy boy,” said Foxworth. “You don’t want to do anything you’d regret.”
“Best friends forever, Riley. Until death do us apart.”
He plunged the knife in the closest man.
“Pull a fast one over your enemies and beat’em.”
Blood spurted from the wound. George pulled out the blade.
“And a whole roasted chicken.”
The hallucinogen ki
cked in. Riley grabbed his arm. “George…”
The room blurred. She couldn’t remember what she wanted to say. George looked down at his friend.
“Riley.” He laughed. “It’s okay, Riley. I remembered to smile.”
The men backed away from the laughing boy.
“He’s crazy,” said one.
“It’s the devil!” said another.
“Run!”
Riley scrambled to her feet and dragged George out the door. The rain pounded on them, noise fading. The wind howled. It was God’s punishment for her, for being foolish, for dragging down George.
For not having parents.
“Wait, Riley!”
Riley kept running, tears streaking down her face. They made her friends into pudding. Jimmy, Suzy, Edmund… They made her eat her friends.
“Wait, Riley!” George pulled against her grip. Riley stopped. She shouldn’t cry. She still had one friend.
George tugged on her sleeve, soaking wet and laughing. “I remembered to smile, Riley. I remembered.”
Riley wiped at her face.
“Let’s—”
A pain shot through her stomach. George held her up. “Riley, are you okay?”
“Let’s go,” said Riley. “Let’s run away and never come back.”
“We can’t do that Riley,” said George. “We need medicine. Mr. Estel put it in his pudding. Let’s go back, okay? Let’s go back for the pudding.”
Riley shook her head. Never again.
“Then in a few years, okay Riley? Let’s come back for the pudding. We have to. You promised. The madness will end. And then there will be us.” He put his arms around her. “And we’ll always be together.”