Happy Little Horrors

by Reuben, David

  “Get your baseball bat,” I said.

  He stared at me for a few seconds before rushing to his office. I understood his shock, but I had a job to do. I would take time to process all this later. He came back with his prized Rawlings bat signed by Tony Gwynn. He leaned the mirror at an angle against the wall and prepared to strike it with the bat.

  “No!” I shouted. “I need to do this.”

  Jake looked ready to argue but handed the bat to me. I stepped up to the mirror, raised the bat like I was going to hit a home run and swung with all my strength. The glass shattered into hundreds of small fragments. Before the pieces could hit the floor, Jake and I watched as six round lights shot out from among them. They swirled around what remained of the mirror. Four of the lights flew toward the ceiling and disappeared. A fifth light turned black like charcoal and disintegrated as it made its way through the floor. The last light lingered, then swirled around me. My mom was saying good bye. I felt her love encompass me and I whispered, “I forgive you, Mom.”

  With those healing words hanging sweetly in the air, she flew down the hall, and into the kids’ rooms where they were sleeping. When she reappeared, we watched her soar to the right and through the wall.

  I like to think she went to see my brother.

  As we cleaned up the pieces of broken glass, Jake explained how he woke up when I got out of bed. He followed me to the family room where he watched me kneel in front of the mirror. He could tell I was sleep walking and was about to wake me up when he saw a pair of hands reach up from the mirror and pull me down. It all happened so fast that by the time he got to the mirror, I was gone. A few seconds after I vanished, he saw me reappear below the glass. When he saw me reach for him, he thrust his hands into the mirror and grabbed me. Apparently, what seemed like several minutes to me took only a couple seconds on this side of the glass. I explained what happened and what I saw inside the mirror. We scooped the broken mirror pieces into the cedar box and decided we would find a remote spot in the woods and bury it deep under the ground.

  We watched the sun come up as we sat at the kitchen table drinking hot chocolate. He asked me how I was feeling. I told him I felt good— that for the first time in over three months, I felt good.

  And you know what? I did.

  ***

  This story is dedicated to my mom. Although her multiple suicide attempts were not successful, she left us in other ways. I forgive you, Mom.

  ***

  Author’s note

  While this story is a piece of fiction, depression is real and can be life threatening if not dealt with. If you or someone you know is depressed, showing symptoms of depression,

  or considering suicide, do not hesitate to seek help.

  Resources for help and/or to learn more:

  National Suicide Prevention Helpline: 1-800-273-TALK(8255)

  http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org

  Help is available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

  Postpartum Support International: 1-800-994-4PPD

  http://www.postpartum.net/

  ASHES TO ASHES

  By Toni Lesatz

  Marcus turned down the row of cars looking for an open spot to park. I could tell he’d found one by the way his foot suddenly tapped the accelerator. I cracked open my can of soda and lifted it to my lips, just as Marcus slammed on the brakes of the beat up Chevy. The jolt caused dark liquid to spray from the can, right across the front of my white t-shirt.

  “What the hell!” I shouted, quickly tilting the can away from me.

  “Sorry, Ash, but that guy just pulled in front of me and stole my spot!” He pounded his fist on the steering wheel and then stopped to take a deep breath.

  “If I would’ve hit him there’d be an even bigger mess.” Marcus flashed a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry about your shirt, though.”

  I yanked the glove box open, desperately trying to find a napkin, but the box held nothing useful.

  “This night isn’t starting out well,” I said, letting a frustrated sigh escape.

  “I’ll buy you a new t-shirt when we get in there, baby.” He gave me his famous puppy dog eyes, which always made me smile. I rolled my eyes, but gave him the grin he was searching for.

  “Okay, but nothing silly. I get to pick.”

  “Would I buy something stupid for my girl?” he asked, feigning innocence.

  “Uh, yeah. Don’t you remember the socks you got me for my birthday?”

  Marcus howled with laughter. “You said you liked zombies!”

  “Zombies? Yes. Undead, creepy, want-to-eat-your-brains zombies. Not zombie strippers,” I playfully scolded.

  “Well, they keep my feet nice and toasty,” he said, grinning, as he pulled the truck into the only remaining space in the lot.

  “Finally,” I said, jumping out and stretching. “Let’s hope nothing else goes wrong this evening.”

  “What could possibly go wrong, Ash? It’s a beautiful summer night and we’re at the most spectacular place in town.”

  I rolled my eyes again. “If you consider the carnival the most spectacular place in town, I don’t see much of a future for us after we graduate.”

  Marcus slapped his hand across his heart and let out a painful groan like he’d just been stabbed. I couldn’t help laughing. He was such a goofball, but he was my goofball. And a hot one at that. The way his smoldering amber eyes bore into me caused butterflies to take flight in my belly, even after six months of being his girl. I knew I was too young to make such crazy statements, but I felt certain he was the one. As if reading my mind, he wrapped his hand around mine and walked me through the gates.

  “How can you not love this place?” Marcus marveled at the big flashing neon signs, the lights that were strung along light posts down the midway, the sounds of carnival workers yelling for everyone to “Step right up!” He lifted his nose high in the air and took in the aroma of hot dogs, buttery popcorn, and warm cinnamon that floated gently on the breeze. He was like a kid in a candy store with no parent to hold him back. I loved that about him; the way he loved life and all its many splendors. I guess I’d lost some of that childlike wonder along the way. Being seventeen and already having both parents ripped out of my life probably had something to do with that.

  “It’s a great place,” I said, humoring him. I really didn’t care where we went. I was just happy to be spending the evening with him. We’d been dating for six months, but hadn’t done the deed yet. We’d messed around, sure, but we hadn’t gone all the way. Before he picked me up that evening, I’d already planned to make the night a special one. His parents were out of town, which gave us the perfect opportunity to be alone. I just hoped that spilling a can of soda down my front half wasn’t a bad omen.

  Marcus jumped in front of me, more excited than I’d ever seen him.

  “What do you want to do first?” he asked.

  I stopped and looked around, taking in the animated sights. There were carnival games down the length of the strip as far as the eye could see. Stuffed animals hung from the booths, so big you’d have to strap them to the roof of your car to get them home. Of course, not many people won those because everyone knew those games were rigged. I didn’t get my hopes up.

  I noticed a guy standing next to the ring toss game staring in my direction. I looked around to see whom he was staring at, but when I turned back he was gone. My stomach growled loudly, and I instinctively covered my protesting belly with my hand.

  “Food it is!” Marcus said, laughing. He whisked me off to the nearest food jockey. “Might as well let you eat before we buy you a new t-shirt. You know, in case there are any more accidents.”

  “Well don’t you think you’re funny?” I said, sticking my tongue out playfully.

  We made our way to a vendor that sold pizza and hot dogs, popcorn and cotton candy, and just about any other kind of junk food a person could imagine.

  After inhaling our food, Marcus pointed over my shoulder. “How about we
go visit that psychic over there.”

  “Really?” His suggestion took me by surprise. I turned to see the same boy from the ring toss game standing next to the tent. He was unmistakable; tall and lanky, hair as black as a raven’s feather, and spiked up all over his head. His eyes were so blue I’d swear they emit a soft glow around his pale face. He was dressed for a school dance more than a carnival, sporting a dark suit and tie. Again, he was looking right at me.

  I turned back to Marcus. “What is that guy’s problem?”

  “What guy?”

  “The guy standing by the psychic tent,” I blurted impatiently.

  “The blonde guy next to the red-haired girl?”

  “No, the one with the …”

  When I turned back around he was gone.

  Again.

  Marcus reached up and felt my forehead. “Are you feeling okay, Ash?”

  “Yeah, of course I’m okay. There was… some guy standing over there just a second ago,” I began. “He was also standing by the ring toss game earlier, and he was staring at me both times.” My voice had climbed a few octaves. I felt foolish all of a sudden.

  Marcus looked at me like I’d lost my marbles. “Okay, I think you’ve had enough junk food for one night. Let’s go find you a new t-shirt and then we’ll see what wonders our future holds.”

  He held his hand out to me and I accepted it, shrugging off the feeling that I was being watched.

  I picked out a dark t-shirt with an image of Daryl Dixon from The Walking Dead holding a crossbow on the front. At least if I spilled something else on it, it wouldn’t be as noticeable. And, hey, it was Daryl Dixon. I wouldn’t dare spill anything on him.

  We entered the tent through a flap that had been tied back with a rope. Once inside we found a large round table with a gypsy-looking woman sitting on the far side. The rest of the tent was empty. Oh, yeah, that’s not creepy at all. The area was dimly lit from a single candle burning on the table in front of her. Small colored crystals were spread out around the candle.

  She held her bronzed hand out and said, “Come on over and have a seat. I won’t bite.” She must have noticed my rigid stance and sensed my hesitation. She let out a cackle that startled me, and I stumbled back a bit.

  “Come on, it’ll be fun,” Marcus whispered in a reassuring voice. He placed his warm hand across the small of my back and led me to the woman.

  She introduced herself as Rowena, the best fortune teller in all the land. I tried to smother the laughter with my hand, but it slipped out anyway.

  “What are your names?” she asked.

  “I’m Marcus, and this is Ashley.”

  “Ash,” I quickly corrected.

  “Ash, huh? I like that,” Rowena said, offering a sincere smile.

  She took my hands in hers and immediately began to examine the lines that ran along my palms. “What would you like to know about yourself?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” I thought for a moment before asking the most unimaginative question possible. “Will we still be together after high school?”

  Rowena ran her index finger along the narrow lines in my hand, as if attempting to decipher a map. It was awkward having a stranger stroke the palm of my hand, but she seemed to be harmless.

  “Hmm,” she began before taking one of Marcus’ hands to examine it, too.

  Another “hmm” escaped her lips a few seconds later. It took every bit of willpower I had not to roll my eyes hard enough to send them flying out of my skull. I looked over at Marcus and we began to giggle like children.

  What a strange thing for us to be doing, I thought.

  With a solemn look on her face, Rowena stared into my eyes. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see a future for the two of you.”

  I pulled back, shocked by her candor.

  “Wow, I thought you carnies always gave good news,” Marcus scowled. “Isn’t that your job, to entertain us?”

  “I am not an entertainer, boy. I take pride in my gift, and I always tell the truth–whether the news is good or bad.”

  “So, that’s it?” Marcus stood abruptly knocking his chair over. “Twenty dollars for you to give us bad news and then send us on our way?” He turned back toward the opening of the tent.

  “Let’s go, Ash.”

  I stood, ready to follow him, but Rowena grabbed my hands forcefully and pulled me back to her.

  “Something horrific is going to happen tonight,” she warned, her eyes as big as saucers.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked incredulously.

  “I see death,” she said. “Lots of death that cannot be avoided.”

  I yanked my hands back and looked at her with my mouth agape. “What kind of… This is ridiculous!”

  “No, it’s your destiny,” she said in an eerily calm tone.

  “And you are a freak!” I shouted, jumping up from the table.

  I ran out of the tent to catch up with Marcus.

  “You must embrace your destiny!” Rowena called out, her singsong voice ringing in my ears.

  “That lady is cra-zy with a capital C,” I said, shaking my head.

  Marcus raised an eyebrow in response. “You think?”

  “No more suggestions from you,” I chuckled. “That was a horrible idea.”

  “Ha! How ‘bout we go on a ride, then?”

  Rowena’s voice sang a morbid tune in my head. Something horrific will happen tonight.

  “Sure, why don’t we try out the swings?” I suggested.

  “The swings? That’s not a real ride.” He crossed his arms over his chest tightly. Apparently I had emasculated him by suggesting such a thing. He pointed toward the back of the park where neon lights zoomed along a towering track. “Let’s go on the roller coaster instead!”

  “Um, I don’t know. I might need to ease into something like that.”

  Marcus looked at me, confused.

  I could feel the heat creeping across my cheeks. I was embarrassed to tell him I was afraid of heights. This was our first summer together. I didn’t know he had a thing for carnival rides. I just assumed we’d walk around for a while, try to win a giant stuffed bear, and head home with empty pockets. That’s where my plan to console him came into play: a very special plan. Ugh. I hated carnival rides, and I wasn’t feeling especially brave after Rowena’s forecast, no matter how absurd it may have been.

  “Well, how about something a little more romantic, then, like the ferris wheel?” he proposed with a wink.

  Great. Just as high as the coaster with nothing but a flimsy bar across my lap while we sway helplessly in the wind. Just what I’ve always wanted.

  I countered his offer with as much excitement as I could muster. “Let’s go in the funhouse!” I wasn’t a big fan of the funhouse either, but at least it was on the ground.

  I could see the disappointment wash over his face, but he was a good sport about it. If he ever wanted to get in my pants, he’d play by my rules.

  Marcus forced a smile. “Sure. The funhouse sounds … fun.”

  There was no one in line because … well, no one liked the funhouse. We walked through the brightly colored glass doors after flashing the large, creepy clown with blood-red makeup our wristbands: our access pass to all rides which Marcus had purchased just minutes before.

  We laughed at ourselves in the mirrors that twisted us into different shapes: tall and short and skinny and fat. We screamed playfully around every turn as carnival workers, dressed as clowns and other equally frightening characters, jumped out from behind hidden panels in the walls. We were halfway through when I turned around and realized I’d lost Marcus.

  Stupid funhouse!

  I turned back, but only continued to get more confused about where I was inside the structure. There was nothing but colored glass and mirrors, deafening circus music that made me want to stab myself in the ear, and blinding lights everywhere I turned. It was impossible to navigate, and I was losing patience. I nearly ran face-first into a clear glass panel,
which stopped me in my tracks.

  Stay focused, Ash.

  I backed up slowly, screaming once again after bumping into something behind me. Except it wasn’t a something, it was a someone; the black-haired mystery guy.

  I slid around him carefully, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. “Sorry,” I said.

  “No need to apologize,” he whispered in my ear as I passed. “I thought you might need some help finding your way.”

  His voice was much deeper than I expected. It sounded strange coming from his lips. He appeared to be my age, just another high school boy, but his voice was oddly strong. Nothing like the other boys I knew.

  “Who are you?” I blatantly asked. “Why are you following me around?”

  “My name is Nathaniel, and I am here to help you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m here to help you,” he repeated. “I’m a—”

  “Oh, I get it. You’re in league with that crazy psychic lady, Rowena,” I said, thrusting my finger at him accusingly. “That’s why you were outside her tent.” It was all becoming clear. This was a con. I was being conned by a bunch of carnies.

  “Well, it was … great running into you,” I said, not hiding my sarcasm, “but I have to find my boyfriend now.”

  I wandered back through the funhouse, yelling over and over for Marcus. My voice had reached a level of panic, and my heart pounded relentlessly in my chest. The air felt thin and I started gasping for breath. I need to get out of this place! I thought about how I should have just gone on the damn roller coaster like Marcus had suggested. It would’ve been over by now, I thought. At the very least, I would have been outside in the fresh air instead of being trapped in the crazy labyrinth with a stalker, and no idea how to get back to Marcus.

  “Mar-cus!” I screamed again and again. My voice traveled along the glass walls, bouncing and echoing back at me through each turn. My head began to buzz and spin like one of those carnival rides that made me puke. I felt like I was floating for a moment and then dark spots dotted the edge of my vision. Oh no, please don’t let me pass out in this hellhole!