SLClimer - Rumours of the Grotesque

by Rumours of the Grotesque (v1. 0) [lit]

  When the Fat Lady Burns

  I could see her playing out in the yard of the wasted, shell of a house sitting at the end of the street. She was a small child, no older than eight, and she was filthy. The sweltering summer sun punished the cracked concrete streets, driving the heat well over 90. It didn't seem to bother her, though. She simply played in the overgrown grass that was her front yard. I guess growing up in the Tennessee humidity makes you immune. I couldn't stand it myself and preferred the air-conditioned comfort of a hockey rink.

  She wasn't that much younger than my little sister, Kayla, and about eight years behind me. I had heard a few rumors about the little girl named Daisy, but never paid much attention to them. One neighbor said she was retarded and her mother home-schooled her. Others said she was an inbred hillbilly. I tended to believe a tiny portion of each story.

  Still, I wondered about her every day. She seemed so happy even though there were never any other kids playing with her. There was no mom or dad, at least I never saw them.

  I was the new kid in town, and it didn't help much that I was from Michigan. I didn't want to come to this little fart in the road, anyway. Mom said she had to be near her family after the divorce, and she pulled me and my sister along. She didn't care how we felt about it. I loved my old school. I was popular with everyone, and I was all set to be the starting center on the hockey team this winter. No one played hockey in Tennessee. There was no place to skate and no one to body-check. I had a future until all of this happened. Now, all I got from the other kids in town were dirty looks and teasing because of my quick northern tongue and rollerblades. You'd think they'd never seen someone who could skate and shoot like me. They were all jealous.

  Needless to say, I didn't get along well with the kids in my new town. There weren't that many anyway. I think the total population of Halls, Tennessee was 3,000—4,000 if you counted all the trash living in the trailer parks. I thought all the other kids were stupid hayseeds. They were slow-talking and never wanted to do much. They weren't like my friends back in Michigan. God, I wish my dad had let me come live with him. Instead, I was stuck here, melting my ass off, watching Daisy play in her front yard.

  Then, my little sister came home. It was peculiar; she came from the direction of Daisy's house. When Kayla got to our front yard, she turned back to Daisy and waved good-bye. Daisy also waved and then went into her house like her name had been called. All day, I thought Kayla was at her new friend's house on the other block. I was surprised to see her coming from the decrepit two-story looming at the end of the road.

  Hot air poured through the door as she came in, and I went right to her. “Kayla, where've you been? I thought you were at Megan's house."

  "I was for a little while, then I went to Daisy's."

  I followed her as she went to the fridge for a Coke. “I'm responsible for you when Mom's at work. What if something happened and I didn't know where you were? I didn't see you in Daisy's front yard."

  "Chill, Adam,” Kayla said. “I was only down the block."

  "Were there any parents home?” I asked.

  "Yeah, but Daisy said they were doing something in the basement."

  My curiosity was running wild. “Does she have any brothers and sisters?"

  "She said she did, but I only got to talk to her Mama."

  "What does she look like?"

  "I don't know. I couldn't see her. She was in another room and just talked to me for a minute."

  "So you went in the house?"

  "Just for a little while, then we went in the back yard."

  I'm not sure if it was the big brother in me or something more cryptic, but I didn't have a good feeling about Daisy's house. “I don't think you should go over there anymore to play."

  "Why not? Daisy's really cool. She collects bugs."

  "We don't know them, Kayla. For all we know they could be child molesters. I don't want you going over there again until Mom goes and meets them."

  "But I want to go back this afternoon. Her mom is going to make Kool-Aid and cookies. We're going to have a tea party. Mom doesn't get home until after dark. Mom never has tea parties for me."

  "I said no."

  I tried to be firm, but Kayla could always sway me. My little sister was the most important thing to me. All we had was each other when my parents were splitting up and fighting over us. I hate to think what would have happened to her if I hadn't been around, or the other way around for that matter. She'd smile, show her big dimples, and hug my neck.

  I could see the smile coming.

  "Why don't you go meet her parents? Will that be okay?"

  "I don't know. I really think Mom should."

  "Mom doesn't care, she's never cared,” Kayla said with bitterness far beyond her young age.

  It was true; Mom probably wouldn't care at all about what we did. She relied on me to take care of Kayla while she worked. I reconsidered Kayla's request because I couldn't stand it when my sister was unhappy.

  "Okay, I'll go over there. Why don't you call them and we'll go over after lunch?"

  "They don't have a phone."

  "After lunch then, we'll walk down there."

  "Thanks, Adam.” Then, I got the dimples and the hug.

  After lunch, we set out in the torrid heat of early afternoon. We hadn't gotten more than fifteen yards before I felt the heat sucking all the energy out of my body. Kayla, however, just kept on moving and chattering to me about little girl stuff. She really liked Daisy a lot. All I could think about was going back home to Michigan and playing some street hockey with the gang.

  We got to the gate of Daisy's yard, and I inched opened the dilapidated wooden fence. The hinges protested, but we continued anyway. I looked up at the anorexic-looking house, shingles hanging, paint peeling, kudzu vine strangling. The windows that weren't broken were shut up tight. The yard was no better, but had an attractive meadow-like quality with its weeds and wildflowers. Together, we held hands and walked up the cracked and heaving sidewalk to the porch.

  "I'll knock!” Kayla went ahead and pounded on the door.

  I hung back, trying to look cool in case anyone should open the door too quickly. Kayla knocked again, and still there was no answer.

  "I don't think they're home,” I said.

  "They're home. Maybe they're out back."

  Grabbing my hand, Kayla pulled me down an overgrown path that led around to the back yard. Unlike the front yard, the back was steeped in shadows from overgrown trees. The lot was deep, and hulking skeletons of old automobiles were scattered among untamed bushes and swarming gnats. There was also the smell of dead animals and dog shit lingering.

  "Kayla, let's go home. You shouldn't be playing in a place like this."

  I was alarmed at the disgusting mess and became afraid of these people. Kayla let go of my hand and rushed toward the back of the house before I could stop her.

  "Kayla, come on, we're going home."

  "Wait here,” she said while opening an old screen door. “I'll get Daisy."

  "I said come on!” But she didn't listen and disappeared into the house.

  "Damn it, Kayla!” Fearfully, I took off after her. “Mom's going to kill you when I tell her!"

  The door slammed against the frame in her wake, and again in mine as I entered the house. My momentum suddenly ceased. The darkness stung my eyes, stealing my sight. And the stench of garbage, dust, and tobacco permeated my nostrils. It had to be twenty degrees warmer in the house, and flies buzzed me from all directions. There were no signs of electricity.

  I wanted to scream out Kayla's name, take her up in my arms and run from this place. It was awful and vehement and made me want to take a shower the instant I left. Gradually, my eyes adjusted to the shadows and I focused on the decor.

  It seemed to be themed with the exterior. Everything I could see was in disrepair: old curling linoleum, cabinets with doors off their hinges, and trash everywhere. There were no signs of life in this house, except for th
e flies, and I knew I'd be calling the police when I got home.

  First, I had to find Kayla. Then, in another room, I heard the giggle of little girls. Following the amusement, I went to the parlor in the front of the house. Light barely penetrated the dust-stained windows, and particles floated effortlessly in the stale air. Kayla sat with Daisy on the floor, playing with several jars full of squirming bugs.

  "Daisy, that's my brother Adam.” Kayla pointed to me. “Hey Adam, look at this!"

  She held up a jar full of writhing centipedes for my inspection. They made my skin crawl just watching them. The other jars contained bugs as well. Some were centipedes while others were roaches, silverfish, spiders, and tiny gray/black scorpions.

  "Have you ever seen bugs this big?” Kayla exclaimed.

  "Put them down, Kayla, and let's go home,” I said with paternal firmness.

  "Somethin's you should know ‘bout them ‘pedes,” Daisy suddenly said. “They's poisonous. I caught ‘em and put them in the jar."

  "Daisy, is your mom home right now?” I glanced around the room scattered with furniture and decorations that had to be a century old.

  "Look at these!” Kayla held up the scorpions.

  "I got those in the cellar,” Daisy said, obviously ignoring me in favor of her new playmate.

  "Daisy,” I repeated myself more assertively, “if you want Kayla to still come over and play, I need to talk to your mom.” That got her attention.

  She looked at me with jewel-like green eyes that pierced me through the heart—so cold it was like being stabbed with ice. “My Mama's in there.” Daisy pointed to a door, half-cracked open, at the far end of the room.

  Turning, I let the girls resume playing. Sweat dripped from my body, soaking my T-shirt and hair. As I cautiously walked toward the door, I took in all the details I could remember about the house. The front door was barred, and half of the stairs leading upward were missing. Daisy shouldn't be living in conditions like this; I'd see to it that she got some attention after I talked to her mom. Actually, I didn't want to talk to the woman at all, but I had promised Kayla.

  Gently, I tapped upon the door and gave it a nudge. There was nothing to immediately see except darkness. But I could hear labored breathing coming from beyond. The sultry, still air was cut with a new foul fragrance made up of body odor and urine. I wanted to run, grab Kayla, and head for the safety of the sunshine. Just as I was about to lose my nerve completely, I heard the woman begin to speak.

  "Who's there?” Her voice was like a deep sloshing drain clogged with hair or food.

  "I'm Adam.” I could hear my voice crack. “I'm Kayla's older brother."

  "Come in. My little Daisy likes to play with your sister. It's been a long time since there's been anyone for her to play with."

  "To tell you the truth, Ma'am, we've got to get back home. My mom will be home soon, and we'll be in trouble if we're not there."

  "Don't hurt my feelin's, I asked you to come in.” Then, somewhere inside the room a match was struck and a light went on. “Let me show you some hospitality."

  Reluctantly, I stepped over the threshold and into the stinking pit. I didn't want to stay longer than I had to. The large window at the front of the room, facing the street, was hung with old theater drapes of red velvet. The pane was blocked out with black paint.. Light found its way through the thinnest parts, creating a pattern of stars on the far wall. The woman had lit a small kerosene lamp, but the flame was barely strong enough to keep the heavy darkness at bay.

  "I can see you skatin’ out in the street,” she said, her bosom heaving. “You a handsome boy, the kind a mama likes to see with her chillun."

  "Chillun?” I repeated. “What's that?"

  "Daisy's my chile.” She leaned into the light. “You be the right man for her."

  At that point, I could see Daisy's mother completely for the first time. I wasn't ready for the shock of such disgust: 400 pounds of pale, undulating flesh barely restrained by a halter top and shorts. Broken light from the blackened window decorated her with bright spots as she sat in her threadbare recliner. As my eyes further adjusted to the dimness, I also saw yellowed circus sideshow posters hanging on the wall. From what I could see, they praised THE WORLD'S FATTEST WOMAN and bade passersby to come in for 5 cents a piece.

  She grinned at me, displaying teeth that looked like a discolored picket fence with too many boards missing. Her image, and the stench of the house, made me want to puke. But I restrained myself. My first and foremost goal was getting Kayla safely out of this place.

  "She's only eight, she doesn't need a man.” I started inching toward the open door, disbelieving the garbage this woman was spewing.

  Alerted to my move to escape, she pointed a pistol at me that I didn't see before. “Somethin's you should know ‘bout my kin: we love guns as much as each other.” She cocked it, then called for Daisy and Kayla. “Hey, y'all girls, come in here."

  I heard them stop playing, and their drumming little feet echoed on the dusty hardwood floor. Daisy wasn't surprised by my predicament, but Kayla stopped just inside the door as she saw the gun. With confused eyes, she looked at me. I didn't realize it, but I had raised my arms so the woman wouldn't shoot me.

  "Come here, darlin',” Daisy's mother said to my sister.

  "No,” Kayla flatly refused and came to my side.

  I felt her sweaty head brush up against me. I wanted to reach down and pick her up. But the woman had a clear shot at us; I couldn't take the chance of the bullet hitting my sister.

  "Now, you don't want me shootin’ yer handsome brother do ya?” She pointed the gun with emphasis. “I said come to Mama."

  "Go on, Kayla. It'll be okay."

  My sister was now crying, scared out of her little girl skull. Reluctantly, I gave her a nudge, and Kayla moved toward the obscene side-show reject. Drawing her in with her elephantine free arm, Mama pressed her lips onto Kayla's face.

  "You'll make a nice daughter-in-law for me. My Daisy says you're the best friend she ever had."

  "I want to go home,” Kayla cried.

  "No tears, sweetie. Cryin'll just git you a big smack in the face. I hate cryin'."

  "Let her go, lady,” I protested.

  "Daisy, I'd like you to meet your new husband. I know you're gettin’ up there in age, and since your brother done gone and been put in jail, I's so afraid you would end up an ol’ maid."

  "I like him alot, Mama.” Daisy glared at me, her green eyes reflecting the star points from the painted window.

  "Can you turn on a light or open a window?” I asked.

  "The light hurts my eyes,” Mama replied. “You don't have to worry, though. You'll get used to it once you come to live with us."

  "I'm not coming to live with you.” I looked at her like she was insane.

  "Hear that Daisy?” Mama laughed. “That's what yer daddy said, too.” Suddenly the bizarre absurdity of the whole situation solidified into terror. Mama put the gun to Kayla's head. “You'll come to live here all right, or I'll kill this little one right now."

  Kayla's quiet tears erupted into panicked wails. She was terrified of the woman holding a gun to her head. I had to help my sister somehow, but if I got shot there'd be no way we could get away. Maybe if she shot me somewhere nonlethal—I didn't care where as long as I could get my sister away from her.

  "Let her go, you fat pig!” I shouted with no self-control.

  Mama just laughed. “If I had me a quarter for every time I heard that, I'd be a rich woman.” She shielded her eyes as the sun changed position and sent intense beams through a large scar in the black paint covering the window. “Daisy, go an’ pull the shade."

  Obediently, Daisy left her mother's side. I watched the filthy girl as she walked from the chair, past the ancient fireplace, and toward me. The window was, more or less, behind my right shoulder. Poor Kayla was trying to stifle her tears, but the horror of the event was too much. I watched Daisy come closer, and my mind raced with ideas
on how to rescue my sister.

  "Do you think you'll get away with this?” I asked, my eye not straying from Daisy. “My mom will call the police, and they'll arrest your fat ass."

  "Your mama don't care. I heard your sister say it a hundred times today. We'll be long gone from here, son. I'm takin’ you to my own mama's house way out on Frog Jump Road. No one ever goes out there. Someone's got to take care of me and my Daisy, and you're gonna be it."

  "I don't know what kind of drugs you've been doing, but I'm not going anywhere with you. You're fucking crazy."