by Hart, Jerry
Don didn’t know how to respond to the news. He’d never known his real father, so he couldn’t very well be sad about his death. “What was his name?” he asked Mom.
“Stephen. Your father’s name was Stephen.”
And then Mom did the unthinkable. She laughed.
Don stared at her with shock and disgust, but she shook her head and wiped away tears that managed to fall down her cheeks.
* * *
Don found it impossible to sleep later that night. He kept replaying the conversation with Mom over and over in his head. Worse yet, he still wasn’t sure whether Mom knew he and (possibly) Ethan were moving in with Dad. She hadn’t mentioned a thing.
School was almost over. The deadline was drawing near. If she didn’t know yet, someone had to tell her. Don looked to his window and started at the sight of a silhouette standing there.
He heard a tapping at the window. Once he got over his fear, he realized the silhouette was of a man, and that man was trying to get his attention. Don got up from the bed and slowly looked through the blinds. He saw not one man but two, one standing behind the other.
“Open the window,” Dad whispered.
Don did, and Dad and Uncle Johnny climbed into the room. They were wearing all black, just like Uncle Johnny had the day he broke in.
“Hey, son,” said Dad with a grin. “Ready to move to Texas?”
“Tonight?” Don was incredulous.
“Yep. You and your brother.”
“So, you talked to Mom?”
Dad’s grin vanished. “I tried to, but she wouldn’t listen. I had to take matters into my own hands.”
“I haven’t packed anything.” Don couldn’t adjust to this crazy situation.
“Don’t worry about it; we’ll get your stuff later. Just go wait in the car while I get Ethan.”
Don didn’t move. This just didn’t feel right.
“Please, son,” Dad said urgently.
“Okay,” Don said, and then he crawled through his window and was outside.
Instead of Dad’s van, there was a small black four-door sedan—Uncle Johnny’s. Don was cold as he waited in the back seat. He had no idea what was going on inside the house. Everything seemed so quiet and peaceful from where he sat.
Minutes ticked by and still he waited. Don caught himself holding his breath a few times, as if doing so would alleviate the terrible sense of dread he felt. When would this end? What was going on in there?
A moment later, his questions were answered.
The front door opened and Uncle Johnny stumbled out. He was clutching his throat! Blood spilled from between his fingers.
Don sat there, horrified. He couldn’t move, he could only watch. Even with the windows up, he could hear his uncle’s pained groans. A second later, Ethan came running out of the house and went straight up the hill to the right.
“Ethan!” Don called, but his brother didn’t look back. It took a moment for Don to realize all of the windows were still up. He grasped the door handle, but before he could even open the door, someone else came out of the house.
No—some thing. It ran on all fours and was wearing a white nightgown. It charged up the hill, in Ethan’s direction. Don managed to get the car door open and before he knew it, he was going up the hill as well.
He ran down the long stretch of road that followed. The moon was far away, looking as if it rested on the end of the street. He didn’t see Ethan or the thing that was chasing him. They must’ve cut through someone’s yard.
But what was that thing? In the back of Don’s mind, he already knew. He just wanted to delude himself a little longer.
He started down the long street, cursing himself for not going into his house to search for Dad. He was the only one who hadn’t come out, and Don didn’t know if he was alive or dead.
Don kept to the street, the one he took every day to get to the first bus stop, not knowing where else to go. His heart pounded painfully when he thought of his uncle dying on the front porch. Don felt sick to his stomach thinking about how he left his uncle to die there, alone, his throat ripped out.
Or had that been Dad?
Don had just assumed it was his uncle, but the Scott brothers all looked so very much alike. Oh, God! Was that Dad dying on the front porch? Don stopped in his tracks, in the middle of the moonlit street. He had to go back and help whoever was on the porch.
Just as he turned to head back home, he heard a scream come from the direction he’d been going. It was Ethan. Don started toward his brother’s scream. It had been high-pitched and far away. How had Ethan gone so far in so little time?
The neighborhood seemed completely empty, like it would in a nightmare. Don didn’t know how late it was, but he found it odd he saw not a single person standing outside—not even a dog barking in a backyard.
Finally, he reached the end of the street. He studied the intersection, noting he could only go straight or right. Another scream called into the night. It had come from the right, from the direction of Chainsaw House. Don knew the neighbors with the best haunted house had as much to do with this as the Candy Lady, but Don’s mind was processing things strangely. He ran down that street, which was just as long as the previous, but with more curves.
Where was Ethan? Had Mom gotten to him yet? Is that why he kept screaming? Don almost felt like he was being led somewhere. Soon, he found himself standing at the top of the steep hill with the cul-de-sac below—the same place where Ethan had wandered off that one Halloween night. Had he gone there again?
Don stood there, looking down into the tiny dark circle, wondering where to go next, when he heard another scream. It came from the bottom of the hill. Don carefully made his way down the steep hill, noting for the first time he didn’t have any shoes.
For the second time in his life, he was walking through a creepy wooded area at night, looking for his little brother. Again Don felt like he was being watched as he pushed through the scratchy, invisible bushes that tore at his eyes and face. Only this time, he was alone. He would’ve done anything to have Nick and Monica with him.
“Ethan!” he called into the night air. “Where are you?”
No reply.
The wind suddenly picked up. Don looked up through the canopy of trees to see the midnight-blue sky had taken on stormy clouds. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
And then something else sounded from not too far away. It sounded like a pig squealing, but Don knew it wasn’t a pig.
What was wrong with Mom? Did she change into some kind of creature after confronting Dad at the house? The way she had come running out the front door suggested as much. Don suddenly felt more alone and afraid than ever.
“Don?” a young voice called from somewhere up ahead. It was Ethan.
Don gasped and charged forward. “I’m here! I’m right here!”
A moment later he found himself in a familiar clearing, and Ethan was standing in the center of it. Alone. Don looked around warily before stepping closer to his brother.
“It’s okay,” he said to Ethan.
“No, it’s not,” said Ethan.
“What do you mean?”
“The curse has Mom now. She can’t come back.”
Don stopped in his tracks. “I don’t get what you mean.”
“Yes, you do.”
A rustle of leaves to Don’s right startled him. He heard rough breathing and knew something was standing there in the shadows, watching, waiting.
Ethan continued: “Mom has killed, and now she’ll never be free of the curse.”
“What do you know about the curse?” Don asked.
“Only what it told me.”
Don laughed. “ ‘It’ started the curse; you can’t trust it.”
“It said the curse stays with us but doesn’t hurt us. But when we kill someone, we change.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” said Don. “If that’s true, then Mom should’ve changed a long time ago. She killed Agatha when we were young
er.”
“That’s right,” said a hoarse voice from the shadows. “She did.”
Don snapped his gaze toward something crawling out of the woods on all fours, like an animal. This animal was wearing a blood-covered nightgown and had scratches all over its pale arms.
“She killed that whore, and she doesn’t regret it,” said Mom as she crawled toward Ethan. The young boy, in turn, simply stared at her without emotion.
Don was paralyzed. He didn’t understand what he was looking at. The thing in front of him looked like his mother, but it didn’t sound anything like her. Don couldn’t believe it was her. Her skin was tight all over, and her eyes were much too shiny.
This was some kind of imposter.
The imposter placed its hands on Ethan’s shoulders and peeked at Don from behind the young boy’s head. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” it said to Don.
That voice—it sounded like it belonged to a witch. Don couldn’t stand the sound of it.
“You don’t like looking at me, do you?” the imposter asked. Its eyes were wide and insanely bright. It had a grin that stretched from ear to ear. “You’ll look like this too. You just wait.”
Don was saved from responding by another thunderclap. The thing squealed again as it looked to the sky, which was clouding over.
“Your father thought he could take you away from me,” said Mom-thing. “I showed him he was wrong.” It laughed a witch’s laugh.
“You killed Dad?” Don asked, his heart skipping in his chest.
Instead of replying, the thing took its hands off of Ethan’s shoulders and crawled to a spot a few feet away. “Soon, he’ll join my little garden.” It dug at a spot like a dog in a yard.
Don was horrified when he saw rigid fingers poke through the loose soil. Against his better judgment, he took a few steps forward. To his surprise, even Ethan seemed terrified by the sight.
After a moment of digging, an arm was revealed. The dirt flew through Mom-thing’s nightgown, making it even dirtier. More and more of the victim became visible, and Don almost screamed when he finally saw the face.
It was Adrian.
“My garden,” Mom-thing croaked again, spreading its arms as if showing off proudly.
“It’s a goddamned graveyard,” Don whispered, completely in shock. A sharp pain touched his right cheek before he could even blink.
“Watch your mouth,” the thing said as it lowered its slapping hand. “Before you end up in my garden.”
He rubbed his cheek. To Mom-thing, he said, “You would kill your own son?”
“If pushed far enough, I’ll kill anybody.” There was no joy in the monster’s words now.
Mom-thing seemed to lose itself in its thoughts. Don took this time to grieve over the mother he’d lost—the mother who would spend hours doing the homework he “forgot” to do himself; the mother who would have breakfast and a smile ready in the morning before school. He loved his mother...but she was gone now.
Sirens sounded far up the hill behind him, and Don guessed the emergency vehicles were headed to his house. Was someone still alive there? Uncle Johnny? Dad?
“Boys!” a familiar voice called from far away. “Where are you?”
Don knew that voice. He turned around and shouted, “Dad, we’re down here!” When he turned back, the mom-thing was right in his face. He screamed just as lightning rent the sky.
Mom-thing screamed as well, and it was not a human sound but an animal one. Don could hear the fear in it. The thing looked up to the stormy sky with wide animal eyes. It clutched Don’s shoulder painfully without looking at him, continuing to squeal as if paralyzed with terror.
“Dad!” Don screamed again.
And then Dad was there, in the clearing. He held a gun in his hand, pointed straight at Don and the thing. “Get away from my son,” he said fiercely.
The thing had stopped squealing the moment Dad appeared and was now backing away, still on all fours. More lightning streaked across the sky and the mom-thing screamed again. And then it ran circles around Ethan, who continued to stand in place. He hadn’t moved an inch since Don found him.
“Stop it!” Dad yelled, and the thing did just that. It stared at him with hateful eyes. He reached out and took Don’s hand, pulling him away.
Don stood behind his dad, staring at his little brother. The mom-thing was almost directly in front of Ethan, guarding him.
“Ethan, come here,” Dad said.
Ethan looked from him to the monster. Don could tell his brother wasn’t trying to figure out if he could get safely away; he was deciding if he wanted to go at all.
“Ethan,” Don called. “That’s not Mom anymore. You have to come with us.”
The young boy simply asked, “Why?”
“Son,” Dad said soothingly to Ethan, “she’s not your mother anymore.”
“What is she?”
“A monster?” the mom-thing asked Dad in that witch’s voice. “Is that what you would call the woman you once loved?”
“You’re not her,” he said simply.
Lightning and thunder again; the monster screamed.
Dad used the distraction to run toward the thing. It suddenly looked directly at him. He raised the gun and pulled the trigger. Don flinched at the shot. The thing flew backward to the ground as the bullet struck its left shoulder. Dad had wanted to get as close as possible to avoid hitting Ethan.
Ethan!
Don suddenly remembered his little brother. Ethan wasn’t standing in the spot where he’d been earlier. Don searched around and found him a few feet away, his hands covering his ears. Whether he was trying to block out the gunfire or the constant thunder was unclear.
The storm was picking up now. More lightning, more thunder, and now a lot of wind. Don ran over to Ethan and held him close as they watched their parents fight. The mom-thing had managed to get back to its feet again and was swiping and lunging at Dad’s gun hand.
Dad tried to point the gun to fire off another shot but the thing kept slinging dirt into his face. At one point, Dad accidentally fired a stray shot that came dangerously close to the boys.
Don thought about taking Ethan back up the hill to the cul-de-sac and finding the police, but he found himself unable to move. He didn’t want to leave until he knew how this ended.
Mom or Dad?
If the mom-thing won, would Don go with it? Would he have a choice?
Just then, a lightning bolt struck directly in front of the thing, knocking it back a few feet. Don was temporarily blinded and only saw an afterimage of the two fighting figures. His ears rang for a moment, and then everything returned to normal.
Well, almost normal.
Only one parent remained standing, and he held a gun in front of him. Dad breathed heavily, his black clothes stuck to him with sweat. The mom-thing lay on the ground, dead. Don looked back and forth between the two of them. The thing had several bullet holes in its chest. Don left Ethan and ran over to Dad.
Dad hugged him, never taking his eyes off the dead figure on the ground. Don looked over his shoulder at it. The eyes were still wide open, still shiny, though they seemed to be dimming now.
“Ethan!” Dad suddenly called. “Where’s Ethan?”
They both looked to where Don had left his little brother. Ethan was no longer standing there. Dad looked back at the woods, Don at the rock wall at the end of the clearing. Just at the top of the wall he thought he saw a figure. It was small, like a boy’s.
Lightning flashed and Don saw him clearly for an instant. And then he was gone.
“Dad!” Don yelled, still looking up. Dad looked as well but, of course, saw nothing. Ethan was gone.
* * *
Don’s house was surrounded by emergency vehicles when he and Dad returned. An ambulance was just pulling away, and Dad told him Uncle Johnny was alive and was going to be okay. Don sat in his uncle’s car while Dad talked to the police. After a few minutes, Dad walked up to the car and said, “We have to g
o the police station for a little while. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“I’m sorry I lost Ethan,” Don said before he could stop himself.
Dad stared at him, his head tilted. The police lights flashed across his face—red, blue, red, blue. Finally, he said, “You didn’t lose him, son. He was taken from us.” His tone was pained, but it seemed like a different kind of pain than what Don expected.
“The police can find him,” Don said helpfully, but Dad’s expression didn’t lighten.
“I hope so,” he told Don. “For everyone’s sake.”
Then he walked away, toward a couple of waiting officers. Another cop escorted Don to a squad car. Don knew he and Dad were going to the same place, yet at that moment he felt completely alone.
* * *
Understandably, Don didn’t return to school for nearly two weeks. He refused anyone’s questions about what happened the night his mother died and his brother disappeared. Well, everyone besides the police. Don’s friends could easily go without any information, but withholding from the cops would’ve been bad for Dad.
Don didn’t doubt the authorities believed Dad had killed Mom that night. It was self-defense, plain and simple. Still, no one could explain Ethan’s disappearance. Not even Dad. Don had told him about how he had seen Ethan atop the rock wall, looking down at them, but Dad had said to keep that to himself.
Where is Ethan? Don asked himself every day. Where is my brother?
He could only imagine terrible things when he thought of Ethan and the creature together. Was that monster corrupting Ethan, feeding him virgin blood and teaching him to kill?
The FBI was conducting a nationwide search for the boy, but Don didn’t think they would find Ethan until he wanted to be found.
But why did Ethan leave in the first place? Don didn’t believe his brother had been abducted; Ethan had gone willingly. Don missed him, feared for him. But the monster hadn’t taken Ethan to harm him. At least, not physically. That didn’t comfort Don, however.
He was allowed to make up the final exams he’d missed during his absence. He would be spending his junior year in Texas and wanted to pass all of his subjects. He tried to distract himself with school, and for the most part he succeeded. He wanted to move as quickly as possible, and Dad was currently wrapping up all loose ends. He constantly assured his son there was nothing to worry about, everything was under control. Don tried to remember that every night when he cried himself to sleep. He tried not to think of the way he’d been at Mom’s funeral, emotionless and blank-faced.