Mary, Will I Die?

by Shawn Sarles

  “Have you seen my brother?” Steph asked, but the closest mom only shook her head.

  “He came in here with us,” another offered. “I’m sure he just fell behind. Don’t worry. He’ll find us. It’s not like there’s a real monster out in the maze.”

  And the rest of the women chuckled. But not Steph. With her heart hammering, she whirled around and headed back the way she thought they’d come. Because she knew that there was a monster out there.

  She turned left and then right, navigating down the narrow rows, the corn brushing up against her shoulders, making her jump.

  “Jamie,” she called, ignoring the fake spiders and cobwebs she passed. The sheets draped over poles, holes cut out of their heads to make them look like ghosts. “Jamie! Are you there? Where’d you run off to?”

  This way. He’s over here.

  Steph heard the whispers and veered after them. But then she stopped, realizing that they weren’t her friend. She flipped on her heel and set off in the opposite direction, doing her best to ignore the voices.

  He’s over there.

  Trust me.

  You’ll never find him on your own.

  But Steph shook her head and kept calling.

  “Just come out and I promise I won’t tell Mom.”

  Still no response. So Steph picked up her pace, practically flying through the maze, having no clue where she was going or if she’d already come this way. She could be running in circles for all she knew. And the whole time, she couldn’t help imagining the worst.

  Stumbling across her brother lying unconscious on the ground, blood oozing from a set of claw marks in his back. Or she’d find him strung up in the corn, his face frozen in horror, there to scare off the crows.

  She pushed herself on, the cornstalks blurring into an unbroken wall, hemming her in, squeezing her tight, narrowing into a line until she couldn’t breathe or move or see or think.

  She turned a corner and stumbled into a clearing, her knees hitting the ground as she tripped. Her hands pressed against the cold earth.

  He’s right here.

  The whispers surrounded her, coming out of the corn from all sides.

  You found him. Look up.

  And slowly, Steph complied, her head lifting, her eyes rising. And there, right in front of her, the demon stood, its tattered gown whipping in the wind, its grin a wicked and wide thing. It hovered two feet off the ground. A harpy. Ready to swoop down and snap Steph up in its talons.

  Steph scrambled back, dirt digging under her nails. She wanted to look away, but her head wouldn’t turn. Her eyes wouldn’t blink. She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t make a sound. Instead, she retracted as far as she could until her back was pinned against the stalks of corn.

  What’s the matter? Not who you were looking for?

  Steph gritted her teeth and tried to make the voice go away. Tried to find the energy to flee. To get the heck out of there.

  It’s too late. Come with me. We’ll find your brother together. I promise it won’t hurt.

  Steph blinked and the demon closed the distance in a flash, an inch from Steph’s face, its icy, rough hand grabbing her chin. The tips of its nails hooked in her skin, pinning her in place. Steph couldn’t move. Couldn’t push away as the demon’s foul breath filled her lungs. Its bloodshot eyes searched her face and its free hand slid up to her forehead, tracing the cut the scoreboard had left, pressing it open again as Steph cried out.

  You think you can escape your fate?

  The voice cackled in Steph’s head even though the demon’s lips hadn’t moved.

  Save yourself the pain. You can’t win.

  And for a second, Steph believed it. She imagined how much easier it would be to give in. To slip away right there in the cornfield. To leave it all behind—the fight with Elena, her annoying little brother, her loneliness, the fact that she would never fit in, her feelings for Mary.

  No. Not Mary. She couldn’t give her up. Not after she’d spent five years searching for her. Five years figuring out who she was.

  You can’t protect her.

  Steph’s muscles fired, and she pushed herself to her feet, throwing the demon off her. Then she bolted away, back into the corn maze, hazarding one last glance over her shoulder, not looking where she was going until she abruptly plowed into someone.

  “Whoa! Are you okay? What’s got you in such a hurry?”

  Steph whirled around at the familiar voice, relieved that she wasn’t alone and then suddenly terrified as she recognized the girl.

  “You look like you saw a ghost,” Mary said.

  She tried to catch her breath. Tried to make sense of what had just happened. Of what was happening now.

  Did demons make jokes? Did their eyes crinkle like that when they laughed? Steph didn’t know what to think. She wanted to believe in Mary. To believe in her soulmate. But how could she be certain?

  As the questions ran through Steph’s head, Mary stepped past her, a curious angle to her chin, and made her way toward the opening Steph had just barely escaped.

  “No, don’t go back there. There’s a—”

  But Steph cut off her warning as Mary turned to face her, a look of confusion wrinkling her brow.

  “What? The scarecrow?”

  Steph’s eyes darted over, and she couldn’t believe it. Where the demon had been standing only a moment ago there was just a straw-stuffed scarecrow. And it wasn’t even a scary-looking one.

  “Are you trying to prank me or something?”

  Mary pulled Steph’s attention as she rejoined her.

  “No. I didn’t—” Steph sputtered, unsure, the demon still burned into the backs of her eyelids.

  “Are you okay?” Mary sounded concerned. Her fingers flew to Steph’s forehead and Steph pulled back instinctively, remembering the demon’s cold touch. “You’re bleeding.”

  Steph touched the cut and pulled her hand away, inspecting her sticky red fingertips.

  “I’m fine.” She wiped away the trickle of blood with her sleeve, but then remembered why she was out here. “Have you seen a nine-year-old boy? About this tall? It’s my little brother. I think he’s lost and I don’t know where—”

  Steph had lost her breath again and felt like she was going to pass out. She could run volleyball drills for days, and yet right now she could barely stand up straight. Her hair was a mess. Sweat beaded her forehead. Her hands were covered in dirt and blood. She’d probably never looked worse. But she didn’t care because she was so worried.

  “Calm down. It’s going to be all right.”

  And Mary’s hands landed on Steph’s shoulders, grounding her, pulling her back from the worst-case scenarios running through her head.

  Demons couldn’t do that. They couldn’t calm Steph down. They couldn’t make her stomach flutter.

  “I’m sure he found his way out,” Mary said calmly. “We can head to the front and let the staff know. I think they have a drone or something they can use if he’s lost out here.”

  Steph stood there for a moment, torn, but Mary’s plan made sense. Wandering around the maze blindly hadn’t helped her find him.

  “Thanks,” Steph mumbled. “Can you lead the way? I got kind of turned around.”

  Mary nodded and took off, Steph falling in line one step behind her, doing her best to discreetly untangle her curls and wipe the sweat and blood off her face. She rubbed her palms against her pants and hoped that got rid of most of the dirt, but she could still feel it under her nails.

  “Wait, what are you doing here?” Steph asked, catching up to the girl.

  “You mean here at the pumpkin patch? Or like, what am I doing as a person on this planet?”

  “I mean the pumpkin patch.” Steph did her best to stifle a laugh. A joke. Another check in the not-a-demon column.

  “I thought it’d be nice to get out. Maybe find a story worth writing about. And I was dying for some fresh air and exercise.”

  “Did you ride your bike her
e?” Steph remembered their first meeting at school, watching Mary pedal away.

  “I ride my bike everywhere.”

  “But we’re pretty far out. Why didn’t your mom or dad drive you?”

  “It’s just me and my mom,” Mary replied. “And she was busy. Always working on her latest scheme to take over the world.”

  Steph paused at that, and her expression must have dipped. Demons had plans for world domination, didn’t they?

  “Relax.” Mary smiled and pulled Steph along. “She’s not like a supervillain or anything. She’s a real estate broker.”

  They kept walking, Steph unsure of what to say, her mind still on her missing brother. And still trying to puzzle out who Mary really was. Demon or soulmate?

  But standing next to the girl, Steph had a hard time seeing anything bad in her. She was so light and cheerful. She was helping her out. That was definitely not something an evil spirit would do.

  “So what’s with this Harvest Halloween Carnival thing?” Mary asked. “I keep seeing all the flyers at school.”

  “Oh, that? It’s like this big fundraiser they put on each year. Costume contests and bobbing for apples and tons of food and rides. The whole town comes out. But the first night is just for the high schoolers.”

  “It starts on Wednesday, right?”

  “Yeah. And then ends on Halloween on Saturday.”

  “Ta-da,” Mary exclaimed, and Steph lifted her head to find that they’d arrived back at the entrance to the corn maze.

  “That was fast.”

  “I’m a good navigator. Now, do you see your brother anywhere?”

  Steph scanned the distance and immediately spotted the other kids and moms poking through the pumpkin patch, picking out their jack-o’-lanterns-to-be. And right there in their midst was her little brother.

  “Jamie,” she shouted, relief washing over her and then quickly getting replaced by anger. His head picked up at the sound of his name and his eyes went big as Steph twitched her thumb for him to come over. He looked scared as he slunk toward her, keeping his eyes to the ground, and she hoped he’d remember that next time he decided to run off.

  “Do you not remember what Mom said? No going off on your own.”

  “I told you I had to pee,” Jamie pleaded his case. “You said it was all right as long as I hurried back.”

  And the bad thing was that Steph couldn’t remember if she had said that or not. She’d been so wrapped up in her own thoughts in that corn maze.

  “Well, no more disappearing.” Steph put her foot down, her anger subsiding some. “You’ve got to keep me and the rest of the parents in your sights at all times.”

  “Fine,” Jamie grumbled, digging his toe into the ground. And then he ran off to the rejoin the kids.

  “Thanks for the assist,” Steph said, turning back to Mary, feeling her cheeks and ears redden now that it was the two of them alone again.

  “So, are you going to be at the carnival?” Mary asked. “It’d be nice to have someone to show me around.”

  And as Steph’s heart raced in her chest, she nodded. Because demons didn’t flirt. And they definitely didn’t ask girls out.

  Elena didn’t have much of an appetite as she pushed her food around her plate, her silverware clanking against the china, filling the silence in the dining room. Who could eat when there was a demon on the loose? A demon set on killing her?

  “How’s Steph doing?” Elena’s mom asked, stirring Elena from her thoughts. “The poor thing must be frightened to death after the game the other night. What a freak accident.”

  “She’s fine,” Elena mumbled before turning back to her plate, where she was drawing crop circles in the fluffy mounds of mashed potatoes. She also wanted to say that it hadn’t been an accident, but she knew her mom wouldn’t believe her. No sane person would.

  “You know, I’m really proud of how well you’ve been doing with the team,” Elena’s mom pushed on, and Elena could tell she was trying to throw her a bone. “And your dad’s proud, too. It takes a lot of commitment to lead.”

  “To co-lead,” Elena corrected her, not wanting to think about her dad, who hadn’t been to a single game all season. Who was too busy with business trips to show up.

  “Well, either way, it’s hard work and a big responsibility.”

  Elena shrugged, and a quiet settled around the table again, thoughts of a rampaging demon filling Elena’s mind until she couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Mom, did Grandma ever seem—” Elena struggled to find the right word. “Disturbed?”

  “Do you mean Grandma Whittaker?”

  “No, I mean Dad’s mom.”

  Elena’s mom nodded as she set her fork down and thought about it.

  “Your grandma Meyer was always a quiet woman. But she loved you. She had a hard life, moving over here from Germany all by herself. Raising your father in a new country.”

  “Did she ever seem scared? Like she was running from something? Or hiding?”

  A beat passed between them, Elena’s mother looking at her strangely.

  “What’s got you so interested in your grandmother all of a sudden?”

  Elena worried that she’d said too much. “Just curious, I guess. I was up in her room the other day looking through some of her old stuff.”

  “You should ask your dad when he gets back. He can go through her things with you.”

  Elena didn’t have time to wait for him, but she smiled nonetheless, nodding at her mother as if she were going to take the suggestion.

  “I have a quiz to study for.”

  “Study hard,” her mom replied, and Elena backed away from the table, feeling guilty as she left her mom alone in the dining room. But she had more important things to do. A demon to stop, if she could only figure out how.

  Climbing the stairs, Elena couldn’t help thinking about that message on the locker room mirror. The threat in those bloodstained letters.

  Time was running out. The demon was coming after them. Getting stronger. There was no telling what it’d do next. Who it’d try to hurt. She had to stop it. So she headed to the only place where she might find answers.

  Sliding into the bedroom, Elena left the door open a crack behind her but didn’t flip on the light. She didn’t want her mom to come poking around. And if she squinted, she could see well enough from the streetlights outside. Elena moved to the bed and bent over, reaching under the mattress to haul out a large cardboard box. She sat down on the floor and opened the lid, diving inside her grandmother’s remaining keepsakes.

  First, she pulled out a stack of old black-and-white photographs, people who Elena didn’t recognize except for her grandmother, looking young and elegant, a version of herself that Elena had never known, though she could see the family resemblance, the similarities when she looked in the mirror at herself. In each photo her grandmother wore the same necklace, the thin chain glinting around her neck. Seeing it, Elena could remember playing with it when she was little. Tugging at it as her grandmother read to her. She would have liked to wear it, but she had no idea where it had gone. Probably lost somewhere in her grandmother’s room. Or maybe she’d been buried with it.

  Elena set the photos aside and pulled out a box of letters next, all of them written in German. She didn’t even bother going through these, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to make any sense of them. She kept rifling through the box and pulled out the book of fairy tales. The family heirloom. A treasure. She sat back on the floor, crossed her legs, and set the book in her lap.

  She flipped through the pages slowly, scanning them for clues. Circled passages or words written in the margins. She didn’t find anything out of the ordinary, though, so she turned to the story.

  “Die Verflucht Frau.”

  The Cursed Woman.

  Wasn’t that what Grace had looked up on her phone?

  Elena’s eyes flickered to the shrouded mirror in the corner, making sure it hadn’t moved closer, hadn’t come unsheathed. She
didn’t want anything to do with it. She didn’t even like being in the same room with it. She could feel its energy seeping into the space. Dark and disastrous. Trying to draw her in.

  Come and take a closer look. See how beautiful you are.

  She shook her head and got back to the story, focusing on the words, sounding them out the best she could, hoping that something would jump-start her memory. She could try to translate it herself, but that would take weeks, and she didn’t have the time or the patience.

  So instead, she stared at the page and tried to remember. She tried to hear her grandmother’s voice reading to her. Her grandmother who would visit a couple of times each year, her hair a snowy drift on top of her head, piled this way and that depending on which way the wind blew. She’d died over five years ago, while Elena had been away at volleyball camp. Elena hadn’t even gotten the chance to say a last goodbye.

  Frustration burned through her, flushing her cheeks and scorching her fingertips, causing her to drop the book. Why had she come in here? She couldn’t make sense out of the story. It was all so useless.

  She picked the book back up and stared at the cover, running her palm over the embossed leather. And then, out of nowhere, a shock tingled through her hand. A memory jumped up and possessed her.

  She was sitting with her grandmother, playing with that necklace while the woman held the book of fairy tales open on her lap, pointing at the pictures as she tried to get Elena’s attention.

  The memory started to fade, but Elena tried to hold on. To concentrate on that scene. What was her grandmother trying to tell her? To show her?

  Elena closed her eyes and she was back there, only seven or eight years old, with an attention span of two seconds. She didn’t care about the story, but then her grandmother pulled out a long leather bookmark. She waved it in front of Elena’s face. Then she tucked it into the back of the book and whispered a poof as the bookmark disappeared.

  Elena pawed at the book, riffling through the pages in search of the missing placeholder. But it had vanished. A magic trick. And Elena clapped her hands in amazement, demanding the secret to the trick as the bookmark reappeared between her grandmother’s fingers, as if she’d pulled it from thin air.