What was my farm? What was this place I called home? As I look back upon my youth I thought I knew the world around me. I thought I knew what was going to be my future at the time. Positive I was going to take over the farm after dad got too old to run it. Get married, have kids and watch them grow until like my family before me I myself got too old to run it.
I realize now as I look back upon my youth the cruelty of showing me the reality behind our self made world. Their was no such thing as safety or security in the lives we lived. Their never was. Just stories that were told to us to make us feel safe in our home. The truth was monsters do exists and their was no hope for any of us.
The reality I have learned is that unspeakable horrors and nightmares hide in the corners among us. Waiting. Biding their time as they watch for the right moment to strike. This was the reality of our world. I now believe always was.
I don't hate Applejack like I did after everything. I think she was just like us. Searching for something to hold onto and call her own. But in the end she no longer belong to this world. No longer privy to the same kind of life we had. Rightly or wrongly she had moved on to a different place that had different needs than we did. Though she did have the best of intentions, death and sadness came with her. In the end she caused more pain than joy with her being around. In the end all she did was hurt us.
I’d placed my father on a pedestal and thought the world of him when my mother was alive. He was kind and attentive then. He was strong in personality and soul. Yet, when Applejack moved in and became our stepmother a lot of that drained away. Still, there were moments when the old him would come out, even if he was a shadow of his former self. In those moments he was kind.
Then the dinner after Apple Bloom had whispered to me came. That night when I sat across from him I looked into his eyes and saw a blackness that I’d never seen before. From that darkness, I saw a seething hatred bore down on me not unlike the way a lion bears down on a gazelle. He gripped his knife tightly and held it in such a way that I couldn’t help but imagine he was going to jump across the table and if he did nobody would be able to stop him.
I glanced over to Applejack who busied herself with her own food as Liza prattled on about the “game” in the corn. The notion of the actual danger she was in eluded her. With a sigh I turned away from them and focused on my meal, pork chops and potatoes, and thought back to what Apple Bloom had told me when she’d snuck up upon me unawares.
“You’re a dangerous boy Joseph Caudwell, if green. I like that. That’s why I’m going to give you a chance,” she leaned in closer, “Meet me tonight near that run I knocked you into. Be there around eight or so. If you skip out on it I’ll rip your family to shreds, making you watch and I’ve got the teeth to do it.” Then she slunk away unseen by anybody but me.
I took the girl with the obscenely large red bow at her word and thought about how I was going to get away that night. After what happened in the field there was no way Applejack would just let me go and my father would back her up on it. It might even get violent. Still, I had to try.
From across the table I heard my name being called quietly. I ignored it until finally the sound of my father slamming his hand upon the table roused me from my thoughts. “What?” I asked.
“Answer your mother,” growled my father.
“Are you alright sugar cube,” asked Applejack, “You’ve been staring at that plate for ten minutes and haven’t touched a thing.”
“I’m fine,” I lied.
Applejack’s brow knotted in concern. She opened her mouth to say something but then looked down at her own plate, “Well, if you’re not hungry I can wrap it up for later.”
“No,” said my father, “He’s going to eat now just like the rest of us. He’s not some special case who gets to decide when he gets to do what.”
Applejack cocked her head toward my father. Her eyes narrowed dangerously at him, “He’s had a hard day. Let him be. He’s probably just tired.”
“Actually, I was wondering if I could camp out at the clearing by the western woods tonight.”
Applejack’s head whipped around so fast in my direction I thought for sure it would snap off. Those eyes that had once glared dangerously at my father were now filled with concern for me. “No, you can’t. It’s too…”
I could feel the tears start to tug at the corners of my eyes. I looked back at my stepmother squarely. “Please,” I begged, “It’s really important that I go.”
“Why?”
“I … I can’t … It just is.”
“She said no,” growled my father, “If you bring it up again I’ll straighten you out but good.”
Applejack ignored my father and continued to look at me. I could hear her foot tapping under the table with nervous energy as she gazed at me and searched my eyes for why this was so important. Finally her eyes widened in understanding and she sighed, breaking her gaze. “If you promise to bring what I gave you it’s fine. But be alert. The woods are dangerous tonight.”
I nodded. At that moment I knew that I didn’t hate Applejack. I knew she cared for Liza and me. For a moment I felt a small sense of relief, the first in a long time. Perhaps one day after this had passed maybe I could one day feel the same way for her.
“I’ll check on him later,” said my father quietly, “Make sure he’s fine.”
Despite my earlier interest in eating I managed to finish dinner as quickly as possible. My father’s angry gaze continued to bore at me unabated. Even Liza noticed after a while and as the table fell silent a quiet uneasiness filled the house. Once finished I began packing.
I grabbed a small tent, fire starter, the knife Applejack had given me and the axe handle along with various other bits of equipment that I might want or need while spending the night in the woods. There was no escape from that uneasy feeling that had only heightened with my father’s dark and hateful glare. When I was almost done I could feel someone watching me from the door. Yet, it didn’t seem malicious, just sad. I glanced back and saw Liza. “What do you want?”
“There’s something wrong with dad. Really wrong.”
I zipped up my pack and sighed, “We both know that. It’s been that way for a year or so now. Ever since …”
“No,” interrupted Liza as the tears started to build up, “I mean there’s something really wrong with him. I heard him whispering in the living room to nobody at all.”
A chill ran up my spine and I gripped the axe handle tightly. The wood creaked in my grip as I stared at it; my mind whirred at the possibility. Slowly the words slipped from my mouth, “What do you think it is Liza?” My gaze shifted to my sister.
“I don’t know,” said Liza as she started to raise her thumb to her mouth.
“Don’t do it,” I said to her, “Applejack doesn’t like it when you do it and you know what she said she’d do.”
“She’d cut it off,” muttered Liza as she looked down. That half-hearted joke she had made to her all those years ago now seemed more threatening now. The seriousness of it flashed through both our minds.
The clock downstairs began to chime and told me that it was time to go. I stood up and grabbed my pack and tent and headed for the door to my room. Liza choked back a sob, something that caught my attention and made me stop in my tracks. “Don’t worry. He’s not mad at you. Neither of them are; you’re the one they love.”
“But Jo…”
“I’ve gotta go,” I sighed and walked down the hallway. Liza muttered something but whether it was to me or just to herself I couldn’t tell. Before long I was away from the house and the shadows followed.
The branches of the small oaks and elms clung to my clothing as I trekked through the brush, my pace much quicker than it normally would have been. With the exception of my footsteps the forest was quiet, far too quiet for a summer evening. It was as if the world held its breath as the sun slowly drifted beyond the hills.
As the light slowly dimmed the feeling of being watched crept over me. It wasn’t just animals and insects but something else. I pressed on, my legs burned with exertion as the distances from home grew. By the time I reached the bank I was thoroughly winded and in an effort to be done I chucked my gear onto the rocky bank of the run.
It didn’t take long to find a spot to set up the tent. Once done I looked over to the river and felt my stomach drop. Even in the dim evening light the water was blacker than it should have been. Whatever light that might have danced off of it was swallowed up by run’s murkiness. I took a half a step away from it when I heard the first few snaps of some of the branches from behind me.
I reached down and grabbed the axe handle and held it tightly in one hand. In the other I reached into my pocket for the knife that Applejack had given me. My heart pounded in my ears as the sound of the footsteps drew near. Slowly I turned about and saw the tips of a large red bow making its way through the brush. It was Apple Bloom.
She paused on the edge of the bushes. "Well … howdy there," said Apple Bloom in obvious surprise. Or was it just an act? Her voice was so full of youthful innocence it convincingly hid the killer she really was, "You’re early. I thought you might chicken out."
"Why waste any time?" I asked as I gripped the handle so tight I was certain the whites of my knuckles could be seen in the dim light. "You wanted to talk so talk." I said with false bravado.
She slowly crossed through the branches, her bow getting caught on a couple of them. She jerked it free and growled back at the bits of wood before turning her attention to me. Quietly, she examined me before her expression rested in cool neutrality. In that moment she was unreadable. "You know Scootaloo wanted me to rip your arms off the moment I saw you. She begged me even.” Apple Bloom sighed and slowly approached me, “You hurt her real bad Joseph. Real bad.”
“Then she shouldn’t have tried what she did,” I said, taking a half step back, my eyes locked on hers.
“Real bad,” she repeated seriously before breaking to one of the brightest and friendliest smiles I’d ever seen, “Honestly I'm half-way tempted to do that. Heck if you hadn’t shown up I would have done just what she asked.”
“But now that I’m early…”
“Oh heck I still might. The night is still young after all," Apple Bloom said before a giggling fit over took her that was both childish and malicious in nature.
"What do you want?" I asked harsher than I expected. Ain’t no lie to say I was scared, terrified even but also fed up with how Apple Bloom was acting. To this murderous child it was all a game.
"There are lots of things in the world I want Joseph," she said coyly after she’d stopped laughing, "But right now this isn’t about me. It’s about you.” In a deft movement she closed the distance and wrapped her arms around the one of mine that held the axe handle.
“Hey let go!” I tried to jerk my arm away from her but she held it tightly. I twisted it back and forth and felt it begin to slip free at which point she dug her nails into my skin.
“No,” she said an heir of menace tinted her voice, “Besides at this point I could just do what Scootaloo asked me to do. So drop the wood.”
I knew I still had the knife so I did what she asked. As it slipped from my grip my other hand started to pull out the blade. The sweat beaded upon my brow and I knew I’d only have one chance to end this entire thing.
It was then Apple Bloom did something that I didn’t expect. She took my arm and put it around her and leaned into my side. My eyes widened and my mouth gaped as it almost felt like she was nuzzling into it. “Reasonably strong, but you’ll get stronger. You are truly a threat Joseph. Truth is I wouldn’t be surprised if in the next few days you were more like me than you right now.”
“The hell are you talking …”
Apple Bloom sighed. “You’re in this thing pretty deep you know. Yet, you’re still as dumb to the world that’s coming as an apple seed deep in the ground. Truth is you can’t run from what’s coming . Can’t hide either. So I might as well make it fun, if only for me … especially since my sister apparently,” she growled, “Took a shine to your family.”
“Just spit it out,” I said, not daring to pull away from her.
“Come with me and bring that shovel you packed away. I have something to show you.”
We walked in silence as the sun retreated behind the hills, its last rays of light swallowed by the darkness of night. There were questions I wanted to ask Apple Bloom, yet each time I opened my mouth to say something nothing would come out. My arm throbbed in the spots where Apple Bloom had dug her nails into me. The throbbing in my arm only fueled thoughts of using the shovel against her. My hand however, remained at my side up until we reached a wrought iron fence.
“Up and over farm boy,” said Apple Bloom as she squeezed her way past the bars. Once through she continued walking.
“What’s over there?”
“Come and see,” she said and disappeared beyond the tree line.
The throbbing in my arm now matched the pounding in my chest. Surely no good could come of this and yet I couldn’t say no if I wanted to. It wasn’t just the threat against my family that dragged me along but the promise of some explanation as to what and why this was happening to us. I needed to know.
I scaled the fence with some effort and followed. Muttering under my breath, I complained until the trees were behind me and a sight I hadn’t seen in more than a year lay before me. Oak Hills Cemetery was an old place. For as long as any could remember it had stretched by the old church my family used to attend before Applejack came into our lives. From where I stood among the recently departed and long forgotten graves. Many of them rested family members who left our world before I was even born. I could see the tips of the red bow sticking out from behind one of the headstones. In the pit of my stomach I knew whose it was, even though I didn’t want to admit it.
“That shovel you’ve got,” said Apple Bloom as I walked up to her, “Use it and start digging.”
I shook my head. There was no way I was going to disturb my real mother’s rest. Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. “Look farm boy I know you want to know what I know and this is the price of it. So put that shovel to use or dig with your hands if you want. Either way you’re digging or dying. Doesn’t matter to me.”
I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes. My hands gripped the shovel, as if they had a mind of their own, and snapped it into place. Slowly I felt my arms begin the work of grave robbers and resurrectionists in years past and I dug.
As I dug Apple Bloom spoke. Most of what she said didn’t make any sense at the time. She talked about dimensions and an unending hunger. She spoke of the three easiest ways for ‘her kind’ to get to us. “The easiest way is through TV’s, monitors that sort of thing. However with a little more effort we can get in through pure darkness or a mirror. The last one is a real pain but the fact is if we want you we’ll get you.”
I rubbed my hands, “Why are you telling me any of this? Heck why are you making me do this?”
Apple Bloom smiled, “You want to know what we are and how we are able to stay in your world. Keep digging.”
I dug. I shoveled the dirt away from my mother’s coffin until the night was dying and the next day was just starting to be born. It was when I hit the lid of her coffin I knew what I needed to do.
My breath caught in my lungs as my bloody and blistered hands reached for the lid. Like a desperate madman I flung it open as best as I could and gazed into the empty casket where my mother should have been.
“Applejack’s using it,” said Apple Bloom in a matter of fact tone.
I put the back of my hand to my mouth and wanted to vomit. “Why?” I asked, backing my way toward the far end of the hole.
“We need bodies to stay in this world. We need the skin. When we feed on the living it helps us keep fresh. For now anyway. However, the smell of death can’t always be hidden as easily,” said Apple Bloom as she hopped in the grave, before climbing into my mother’s casket, “You’ll find out soon enough. Heck maybe you’ll even get lucky and find someone willing to sacrifice as much as he did for Applejack.”
“What? What do you mean?”
Apple Bloom snorted as she slid into the coffin a bit. “Honestly, at this point you should be calling me momma instead of Applejack. I’m the one who has practically made you.” With that she slammed the lid shut.
By the time I threw the coffin open again she was gone.
After a mad dash out of the grave and back into the woods I made my way back to my camp only to find it in ruins. Someone had slashed the tent to ribbons and busted up the rest of my gear. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry and passed the carnage to the run that now rolled clear and cool.
Slowly, I knelt down in front of the water and soaked my hands in it, and eased the pain of the previous night’s labor. What Apple Bloom had told me that night ran through my head along with her annoying giggle that seemed to follow me everywhere. I leaned forward and slowly submerged into the water. Letting its coolness lap away as much of the pain that it could. In that run I found the last moment of peace I’d ever know and with it the realization as to just how responsible he was for all of this.
The sun was half way up when I made it home. The one piece of gear at that camp that hadn’t been destroyed, the axe handle, was clutched in my aching hands. In my heart the realization had planted a rage that fueled me all the way home. Deep within I knew where he’d be at that time and my legs carried me to the barn.
There I saw him as he leaned over the tractor not moving. "What is she?" I whispered. The horror and revulsion of it all clenching my throat shut making me unable to raise my voice above a harsh whisper, "What did you do to mom?"
The man who once was my father ignored me and reached for something I couldn’t see in the tractor’s seat. "I dug up mom's grave," I said softly while fighting tears threatening to explode from my eyes, "What do you think I found?”
“Exactly what you and she are boy,” growled the man, “Absolutely nothing.”
“You asshole!” I shrieked and made to hit him with the axe handle but he caught me with a hard shot to the stomach then another to the side of my face that sent me crashing to the ground.
“You should mind your mouth boy,” growled the man, “You know … ever since she got here you’ve been nothing but a whiny ungrateful little pain in the ass. Do you even know how much work it takes? Do you?”
“You actually…”
"You shouldn’t have done that Joseph. You shouldn’t have done that," my father finally said in a strange monotone voice. Emotionless yet at the same time holding back a flurry of emotions that broke the silence between us, "She loves you. She loves us all. She protects us from evil. She makes us safe."
I struggled to my knees and as I did I saw what it was that the man had used to knock me down. It was his shotgun. The barrel was sawed off now and by the look of it recently. The man frowned as he opened it, “… you just kept getting in the way. You kept prying into things you didn’t need to get into.” He reached into his pocket, pulled two shells out and loaded it.
As he closed the gun I thrust the axe handle as fast and as hard as I could into his crotch. The man growled and grabbed his bits tightly and dropped the shotgun. Quickly I grabbed it from his grip and leveled it at him.
As I pointed the gun at him his face changed its expression from pained to neutral. His dark gaze never faltered as he stared back at me. “Go ahead,” he said quietly, “It’s not like she even calls me darling anymore anyway.”
“What?”
The next thing I knew he lunged. In less than a heartbeat the world got loud as my finger squeezed the trigger and then the man moved no more. The world became quiet again and whatever rage that was within me vanished and was replaced with a new sensation.
It was late in the afternoon when I woke up to the smell of home cooking. My stomach gurgled and reminded me that it hadn’t had anything since dinner the previous night and forced me out of bed. I winced at my aching muscles as they protested the movement. I looked down at my hands, now bandaged and wondered quietly just how I’d made it back to my room in the first place.
My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Yet, as I staggered from my room I could sense something different. It was as if I knew where every living thing in the house was. It was as if I could feel them. I shook my head and as I did the memories of the past day quickly flooded back to me. Slowly, I walked down the stairs and gripped the railing tight unsure as to just what awaited me there.
Liza was the first one I saw when I made it down the last few steps. Her expression was a mixture of worry and confusion as she stared at something obscured from my view by the wall. I was about to ask what was on her mind as I shuffled into the kitchen. My voice caught in my throat when I saw Applejack at the stove cooking.
Even from behind I could tell she was a mess. Small red stains dotted her clothing which she always kept in pristine condition now sloppily hung over her body. Her hair was pulled into a half assed ponytail with most of her hair spilling out the sides of it.
As I watched I felt a pall of tenseness weaving between us. Threatening to choke the air from my lungs the more I breathed in it’s toxic fumes. Standing just a few inches from me was something horrible that laughed, that cried, that felt. But far worse than that was something that could and has killed. This I’m sure of. A terrible creature committing continuous nightmares all in the name of love. I was so scared. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.
And yet I also found myself longing for her as well. She was so different from my mother. But still, once I understood I now saw things in Applejack that reminded me of her. Making me wonder how could I have been so blind to it all this time. The way she laughed, the small mole on the back of her neck. The times I had caught her singing to herself when she thought she was alone. Becoming embarrassed when she caught Liza and me watching. Things like that
Maybe that was all part of her plan. To get us to love her so much as to overshadow all the bad. Maybe that was the true nightmare of it all. To feel for the unfeelable.
Applejack’s hands whirled around and around in rapid circles across the frying pan slightly spilling the sauce that ran down the pan making loud sizzling sounds when it came in contact with the stove. From under her breath heard a faint swear word.
I shuffled myself next to Liza. The both of us shared a glance of concern as I sat down. “Ap… mom,” I said in Applejack’s direction.
“Joseph you're finally up. You big sleepyhead,” said Applejack her voice full of some strange, almost manic cheerfulness. As if any moment she was going to start screaming. “I was wondering when you would finally come downstairs. You must have had quite the adventure last night. You almost slept most of the day away an’ all. Dinner's almost ready so you're going to have to wait just a little bit longer.” she said, finally putting down the ladle to face the both of us.
“O-okay,” I said and offered a half-hearted but nervous smile to her.
Black streaks ran from Applejack’s eyes all the way down her face from which this insane smile was plastered upon. She looked like a woman about to have a breakdown. Yet, in spite of it all she was trying her hardest not to show it in front of us.
“How’s your face doing?” she asked as she examined my left eye. It still stung a little but the mark had almost disappeared. “Looks better than I thought it would,” she mumbled, “Your father had quite a temper and you really shouldn’t have angered him. But still that’s no excuse. He should know better than to do that.”
I could feel the slight tremble of her hand as she gently turned my head further to the side to get a better view of the mark on my face. “I don't think we need to put anymore ice on it.” Applejack said before going back to the stove, “Anyway, there's something more important we need to talk about. From now on there's gonna be some changes on the farm from here on out. Things are gonna get harder but I’m sure if the three of us pull together I know we’ll get through this trying time. We’re family after all.”
“Where’s dad?” asked Liza. Not catching onto Applejack’s implication, “I haven’t seen him all day? Is he feeling sick again? Do you wa....
I never realized just how fast my stepmother could be. Taking less than a second to turn around and face my sister. Her face covered with such rage as I have never seen. For a split second her eyes seemed almost pure black making the lines that ran down. Her mouth was twisted into an animalistic snarl incapable of even the most basic speech. She looked more monster than human. More demon than either.
Then in the blink of an eye it was gone, the thing that my stepmother became retreated back into the debts of the woman that housed it and left only Applejack alone with me and my sister. I felt Liza clutch my hand tightly in response and yet I felt nothing. It was as if a part of me had expected as much.
“Your...father...uh...Your father...um, H-he won't be coming for dinner. H-He’s gone and he won't be back again. Now or never. For now on it’s going to be just the three of us on the farm,” Applejack stammered as she forced a small smile across her face. I watched her eyes swivel everywhere but still never made contact with mine, “I’m sorry.” she said quietly.
“But,” Liza said as tears welled up in her voice, “Where did he go?”
Applejack looked squarely at me, unsure of how to answer. “He said Kansas City this morning,” I answered, “I thought it was for a trade… I didn’t know ....”
Applejack came back to us and put her arms around us in a consoling motion.
It was then Liza began to sob and buried her face in Applejack’s pant leg. As she sobbed it was more than when Old Tom had died or even when mom died. In that moment I felt my heart ache for her. I reached out for Liza but Applejack quickly wrapped her up in a tight hug and began to pet her back.
Quietly I excused myself from the table and let them have the moment as I tried to make sense of what was going on at the stove. Between stirring the sauce and browning the meat I overheard bits of their conversation. It wasn’t until I heard Applejack say, “What did I tell you about sucking your thumb,” that I realized something between them had gone awry.
I turned about and saw Liza, the blood drained from her face as she glanced sidelong to me and back to Applejack. She was caught and knew it. From her mouth she mumbled an answer that neither I nor Applejack could understand.
“Do you remember what it was? I know it’s been a while but I warned you that I’d…,” Applejack's voice dropped several octaves as she finished the sentence, “cut it off!”
In that moment I saw the worst of it between them. Since the time of Liza’s mother's death she had retreaded deep into herself to deal with the pain of loss. Then I saw her grow and accept the change within her world. I even saw her grow stronger from this. Catching glimpses of the woman she was going to be one day. And then have everything come crashing down and left her worse than before.
The tears exploded from Liza while her thumb flew out of her mouth followed by a whimpering scream as Liza jumped out of her chair sobbing her way out of the kitchen. I could hear my sister's footsteps hit each step in rapid succession running towards her room. The sounds of her crying echoed off the walls followed by the loud reverberation of the door to her room slamming shut causing a small tremor that ran throughout the house.
“Liza! Liza honey I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” cried Applejack as she watched her run away from her in terror. As she cried after Liza I saw more of the black stuff run from her eyes down the sides of her face and soaked into her shirt.
Awkward fear hung in the air. I was seeing something, a side of Applejack she’d never meant to show either of us. Slowly I left the stove and took a seat across from her. Applejack raised her head and looked at me squarely, “Oh Joseph … what am I going to do?” She reached out for me, her hand seemed less smooth and more claw-like but I offered her mine in return in the hope that it could help her calm down.
I looked into her eyes and when I did I saw the faint glimpse of a woman begging for help. She was a monster that desperately wanted to be human and be loved by us. But knowing what I knew, how could I ever fully trust or love her?
“What did you do with my dad’s body,” I finally asked.
She didn’t react to the question like I thought she might. Instead she patted my hand and sighed quietly, “I reckon you found out a lot about me and mine didn’t you?”
I gazed at her and as I gazed into her eyes mine widened as I realized that I wasn’t so different than her. We were both killers wrapped in the darkness of sin so encompassing that we might never see the light. I looked down and bit my lower lip as the realization washed over me.
Applejack slowly raised my head up and she offered me the softest and saddest of smiles she could muster. “I cleaned up your mess. It’s what mommas do isn’t it?”
We knew who we were and I knew I had to get Liza out of there as soon as possible.
It was still night when I went to my sister’s room and woke her up. Quietly I woke my sister and we started to prepare what was needed for our journey. I’d saved up enough of my allowance for a couple of bus tickets depending on where we got on. I figured it wouldn’t cost too much if it came to it. Whatever Liza had would help. We also packed some clothes and a little food.
That night as I lay in bed the answer to where we could go came to me, Uncle Patrick. He would take us in once we told him a reasonable version of what happened. First though we would go to Uncle Larry and have him drive us to Uncle Patrick’s house.
The walk to Larry’s house was a short one. It was a modest home, almost as old as mine and bordered our property. Uncle Larry had never been one who needed much to be happy in this world. I envied that about him. I saw his car in the driveway and that gave me some hope as he was well known for spending his nights out. The particulars were, of course none of my business.
“Larry,” I called out as I pounded the door, “Get up we need your help.”
“Uncle Larry,” cried Liza, joining with me, “Open the door we need you.”
After what felt like an eternity my heart began to pound as did my arm. It was acting like I’d been around Apple Bloom the previous night. Then a thought occurred to me, what if Applejack or another one of those things was nearby? What if Applejack had discovered we’d left? What would she do? Considering what she’d threatened with mere thumb sucking. Quickly, I started to make my way along the house to see if I could spot him. I was pretty sure I knew where his bedroom was as I began to bang my knuckles against his windows hoping that if he was asleep that would wake him up. Both of his windows had been covered by some dusty old white curtains which I’m positive had never seen a cleaning.
I pounded louder than before knowing that we had to be gone before we were spotted. It was then that I saw the flash of a silhouette streak across the window vanishing at the edge. I backed away slowly catching the slight sweet smell of rot.
“Come on,” I said as I grabbed Liza’s hand and led her away, “He ain’t home.”
“So what are we gonna do?” she asked as I watched her start to take her thumb once again to her mouth. I watched a small shudder run through her body as she stared at it for a moment before bringing it down to her side.
“We go with plan B,” I said quietly as I pulled her along.
“Take the bus?”
“Yeah, the Safeway has a Greyhound … thing. We should be able to get there if we put our money together.”
“What about the old pay phone? Can’t we just call Uncle Patrick to come get us?”
I thought for a moment. As hell bent as Applejack was to have an ideal family she was liable to say or do whatever it took to make it work. “Liza it’s a long drive and where do you think he’d take us after such a long drive?”
“Oh.”
The Safeway was a seven mile hike up the road. On my own it wouldn’t have been so bad but, Liza wasn’t somebody you could typically just drag along for hikes like that. At the time however, it was the best option we had. So, the two of us headed for the old grocery story and hoped to leave our old life behind.
The sky was clear with not a cloud in sight. Even in the morning the sun gave us no mercy as we plodded onward. Unconsciously our bodies drifted apart from each other as the heat made it almost unbearable to be close. My throat was dry and I knew my sister was probably feeling worse than me. Still we plodded on.
I imagined what it would be like at Uncle Patrick’s. I envisioned swimming in the pool, not being afraid of the woods, being around actual family who weren’t just using the corpses of your actual family to get around. As I thought I could feel my arm start to throb again as the sound of Uncle Larry’s car came down the road toward us. His had such an interesting noise as it being a kind of classic among car lovers which I have to say I couldn’t remember what it was. But I could hear it coming closer and closer to us.
I should have run. I should have hid. I should have done a lot of things I didn’t do. I just continued walking with my sister. It was too hot and I was too tired to do anything but walk. I didn’t even have the strength to turn my head and face him as I stared at the shadow if his vehicle slowed to an idle as it matched our pace.
“Where are you two heading off to?” I heard Uncle Larry ask, “It’s gotta be at least a hundred in the shade.”
“That way,” I vaguely pointed down the road, “Are you gonna take us the rest of the way?”
“You’re walking to the store in this heat? You’ll be puddles by the time you get there,” he said then quietly added, “Your stepmom is worried sick about the pair of you. She’s climbing the walls at home wondering where you two wandered.”
“Did she send you to get us?” I finally asked, stopping to stare at him.
“I wanna go home,” said Liza as she looked at Uncle Larry.
I glanced at her then back to Uncle Larry who didn’t say anything at first. Yet, the more I looked at him the more I could see that something was there, behind his eyes. Who or what it was I wasn’t sure of but whatever it was had to be related to the silhouette I’d seen earlier and it stared at us with pure hatred.
“You know they're two ways we can do this Joseph,” he said with an almost cheerful menace in his words, “You can both get in the car and let me take you home where we’ll sort this problem out.”
“What’s option two?”
“You can try to run and then I’ll just have to go and get you. That probably won't be good for any of us. Besides how far do you think you’ll get? What about Liza? She looks like she’ll collapse any second. Hell, I’ll even drive to Stacy’s and get you both something to drink and even let you get cleaned up before I take you back. Doesn’t that sound a whole lot better than what you got planned.” he said, but underneath the words I could just hear the unmistakable threat, “try to run and I will mow you both down.”
“I want to go home,” repeated Liza in frustration.
I felt my shoulders shrug in defeat. There was no escaping either her or the farm. Applejack wanted a family and by hell or high water we were going to be it no matter what we’d done or what could happen.
I opened the door and the sudden whoosh of cold air blasted me along with the scent of Old Spice. I stood to the side to let Liza climb in first. “Get on in there darling! We’ve got miles to go and sodas to drink!”
Something about the way he’d said darling caught my attention. In fact it reminded me of the previous morning before I pulled the trigger. “Hey Uncle Larry we were at your house a bit earlier today and I think you may need to call someone?”
“Why’s that,” he asked.
“Because I think you have a dead rat or two in there. It smells absolutely gross,” I said as I kept my eye on him.
“Ha ha,” said Uncle Larry in mock laughter, “Get in the car.”