The day old Meat-Breath first pulled me into his smelly embrace, Mom was still around. She'd brought him home for the first time, this man who was to replace Dad, and the first thing he said to me was "Get ready, I'm a hugger!" before wrapping me up in his hairy arms. I looked over his shoulders at Mom, who smiled and shrugged apologetically.
Now I was the one cooking hamburgers for Ralph Atwood, aka Meat-Breath. "Hello pretty britches!" he said one day when he got home from work.
I stood in front of the stove, flipping hamburgers. It was 1985 and I was 15 years old, a high school sophomore who read horror novels all night but never had time for homework. Ralph sniffed the air. "That smells good -- hey!" He slapped at a fly buzzing around in the living room. "Pretty britches, you're letting flies in!" Smoke from the stovetop snaked through the open kitchen window.
"I need it to cook," I said, but he walked over and shut it. The kitchen filled with smoke.
"A little smoke isn't gonna kill us," he said. "But once you have flies, that's it. They're impossible to get rid of." He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms.
"I'll drive into town and get some traps," I said, trying not to sound too eager. Any practice I could get driving the car would help me get my license.
"No way," he said. "You can ride your bike there. Don't give me that look, you're the one who let the flies in."
I didn't protest too much. Ralph might ground me, and there was a party I wanted to go to that weekend. He handed me a couple dollars for the store then stared at me and laughed. "What?" I said.
"Nothing. That sigh of yours. You look more like your Mom every day." I assumed he meant without a cigarette hanging out of my mouth. I gave a half-hearted thanks and finished preparing dinner, a few stray flies buzzing around me. He woofed it down while complaining about the "moron sons of bitches" at his job. Every now and then, he'd stop and smile at me again. I wanted to tell him that Mom was driving by the time she was 15 so maybe give up the keys?
The next day after school I threw on my headphones and hopped on my bike. Our neighborhood was on the outskirts of town, and the closest drug store was 30 minutes away. After a few blocks, my mixtape of punk rock and goth music roaring in my ears, I rode past Rita's house. She was still at cheerleading practice. Last year we made demented comics in art class; now she was a pom-pom shaker who dated the quarterback. Amazingly, we were still friends, and even if the party was going to be full of jocks and cheerleaders, it was better than another weekend board-game night with Ralph.
I turned a corner and nearly collided with someone carrying a box across the street. I braked at the last minute and sent my headphones flying. The guy was about 17, rail-thin with a big poof of hair. He looked like a human dandelion. "Watch it!," he said, shaking his head.
Well screw you very much, I thought as I picked up my headphones. I pedaled faster. Soon I was on a two-lane highway. Pine trees and willows made up the treeline while ravens sat on their branches and watched me pass. I never ventured off the road here, since I feared some drunken hunter would mistake me for a deer. When I was younger, my friends and I imagined even more unsettling fates in the woods.
About ten minutes later, I pulled off the road to let an 18-wheeler pass and saw a sign advertising "Miss Edna's Sundry & Apothecary" hidden by a bush. Hey, why not, I told myself. She might have fly traps and then I won't have to bike all the way to town.
I turned down a skinny, worn-grass path that meandered into a sun-soaked clearing. A small, vine-colored house came into view. A dead tree leaned against one end of the roof. Birds chirped on top of it while a coterie of raccoons, deer and other forest animals watched me approach the house.
I knocked on the glass-paneled front door and a woman about a foot shorter than me answered it. She had thick glasses and looked to be in her 80s but she was spry and fit. "Well hello there!" she said in an electric voice. "You're just in time for the sale!"
"Um...I am?" I said. The woman smiled and pulled me inside. Unpolished crystals sparkled on a side table and shelves of tiny bottles lined the walls. She pulled a small bag from a cabinet. "For just two dollars, THIS is the best thing for you and your boyfriend. Just rub some of it down there before you do the deed --"
"What?" I was half-horrified, half-amused. "I don't even have a boyfriend. Our house has flies and we need -- well, my stepdad needs to get rid of them."
"Oh. Well, that's not nearly as salacious." She disappeared into a side room and began moving boxes around. I busied myself by reading some of the titles on her bookshelf: "How To Speak Newt." "Nocturnal Cryptozoology: A Field Guide." "The Many Uses of Wightbane."
"This should work better than any poison," she said from the other room. She emerged holding a tiny red box. I told her it was pretty for an insect trap but she corrected me. It wasn't a trap -- there was a small amount of dust inside for me to sprinkle near a window.
"It looks like poison." I said.
"It's not." Then, before I could ask any more questions, she began a story about the usefulness of flies to the forest. Soon she was talking about something else, and then something else. Some of her stories made me laugh, some of them scared the hell out of me.. Eventually the daylight started fading outside.
"Well," she said, "I suppose you better be going." I thanked her for everything as she led me outside. She saw me looking at the dead tree. "That one fell six years ago and stopped right before it crashed through," she said. "Nature renewed my lease. That's why, the flies -- well, they're there for a reason. Better to let them address a mess than to have it fester. But, it's your house."
It wasn't my house. The only house I'd ever consider mine was my real dad's, and it got repossessed. After that my mom and I lived in run-down apartments until Ralph came into the picture. We were guests in his house, as he always reminded us.
But I didn't correct Edna. Instead I thanked her again and left, the crows squawking as I rode by. Once home, I sprinkled the dust along the windowsill, the trash can, at random spots around the house. To be honest, I thought sticky paper would work better, but at least the container was cute.
When Ralph got home, he didn't even mention the flies, a few of which still buzzed around the living room. He was unshaved and looked rough, but he was happy.
"I got you something," he said. Ralph's gifts were usually a doll or toy, something I grew out of years ago, but this time it was a pair of red women's shoes, the kind my mom would have called "happy hour attire."
"Um... thanks?" I said.
"Don't thank me yet. You don't know if they fit." He motioned for me to put them on. After hesitating, I pushed off my dirty sneakers and slipped into the evening shoes. They were pretty but not my style.
Still, Ralph was trying to be nice. Money had been tight -- he must have seen them in a thrift store window. "Thank you," I said. "They're different --"
"Wow!" he said, a huge grin beaming on his face. "Just like your mom. These were hers, you know. Spin around for me, would you?"
Ugh. First of all, it felt weird to wear a dead person's shoes. Secondly, I was not in the mood to share a moment of nostalgia. Still, I spun around. "You gonna wear them to that party you wanted to go to?" he said.
Hell no. "Uh, sure," I said. "I guess that means I can go?"
"Just girls, right?"
I'm not sure why I lied, but I did.
"Then yeah, of course you can go. And show off your new shoes!"
Later that night as I stared at the ceiling, I thought about the boy I'd nearly run over with my bike. He must have been from a big city. That's how they act there, all self-important. I should have called him an asshole. If I'd done that, I reasoned, I would have been able to sleep instead of regretting my non-response.
The door cracked open and Ralph stood there, watching me. I pretended to be asleep until he finally closed it back and walked away. He's just making sure I'm OK, I told myself.
Outside my window were the beginnings of a spider web. I drifted off, and the next morning it was finished, a beautiful net stretching across the glass. I checked my clock -- shit. I'd overslept. I rushed to get ready, stumbling out of my bedroom into a silent house. Ralph had already left.
I ran to the bus stop, screaming to get the driver's attention, but it was too late. The red brake lights had turned the corner. I plopped onto the curb and a honking horn startled me. A weathered old sedan pulled up with Rita in the passenger seat. And driving was -- the clueless mover from yesterday.
"Hey girl, what are you screaming for?" she said. "Who needs the bus."
"Um... what's going on here?"
"Oh, where are my manners. Maria, this is Michael, Michael, this is --"
"We've met," he said. He lowered his sunglasses and smiled sarcastically. I rolled my eyes.
I ducked down and whispered to Rita through the window. "How do you even know this guy?"
"Relax," she said. "He just moved here. Get in, he's gonna take us to school." Then, more quietly: "He's a total dork. Just wants to impress us."
"You know, you never apologized for nearly running me over yesterday," said Michael. He reached over and unlocked the door.
"Well maybe you should have been -- walking louder." I climbed into the back seat, pushing aside a pile of fast food wrappers to do so. Rita turned the car's radio to some obnoxious dance number. She sang along as she pulled out a bottle of nail polish and started coloring her nails. Michael looked at me in the rear view mirror. "Hey, Maria was it? You see any tapes back there?"
"What, you don't like this song?" I said. I hated it too but didn't feel like being too accommodating. I shuffled through some piles of junk but didn't see any cassette tapes. Finally I took the mix tape out of my Walkman and gave it to him. He grimaced dismissively but played it anyway. The synthesized dance tune cut to crunching guitars and a singer doing his best death moan. It startled Rita so much she messed up a nail. Michael gave a surprised smile and nodded his head to the music as we flew down the highway.
We arrived at school, Rita jumping out immediately, palms over her ears. "Thanks," I said to Michael. "Hey, there's a party this weekend --"
Rita opened the back door and pulled me out. "Are you crazy?" she whispered.
"A party?" said Michael. "Sounds cool -- I mean, whatever. I'll try to make it, maybe. Where's it at?"
Rita looked like she wanted to kill me but it was too late. I scratched out the party's info on a piece of paper. Michael did a cool-guy nod at us both and sped off.
"Wow," she said. "He is such a dork. I can't believe you invited him."
"Now I'll only be the second biggest nerd there," I said, and dragged us toward class.
When I got home after school, Ralph was already there, presumably having gotten off work early. The first thing I heard was the sound of him stomping around the wooden floors of the living room. I opened the door and there he was, swearing while attempting to track something down.
It was a spider. Several cobwebs hung from corners in the ceiling, their strands carrying mummified-looking fly parts. A large black crawler darted up one of the walls. Ralph screamed and threw a shoe at it. When he saw me, he exploded. "What the hell did you buy at the store?" he said.
"Just something to get rid of the flies!" I said. "Like you told me to!"
"Are you trying to be a smart ass?" he said. "That's not a good look for you. Especially today. Getting rides from strangers? What the hell is wrong with you?"
I was floored. He'd seen me? "I thought you were at work."
"That was a very stupid thing you did. No party for you this weekend --"
"That guy wasn't a stranger. His name's Michael --"
Ralph shushed me. "He looked like a punk to me. I have to put my foot down on this. It's called responsible parenting."
I wanted to scream. In the six years I'd known him, not once had Ralph ever asked me about school. Now suddenly he was the concerned parent? "That's not fair!" I yelled before running to my bedroom and slamming the door.
As I did on occasion, I missed my mom. For all her faults, she was good at comforting me when the problem was obvious. I looked at a picture of her on my dresser. It was the only one I kept out. Us at some picnic, her sitting behind me, giving me bunny ears. I look about five.
The next day I was biking to the store again. Apparently my being grounded had exceptions if Ralph didn't want to get off his lazy ass. There were more cobwebs in the trees and bushes around our house. I found a huge brown spider on my handlebars when I went to retrieve my bike. Seeing that I wasn't a fly, she scurried away.
When I got to Edna's, she seemed to be expecting me. "Do you have a boyfriend now?" she called out cheerily, but she frowned when she saw my expression.
"Yeah, it's just -- the spiders," I said. "Why'd you do that?"
"You see what kind of shop I run here. If you want some deadly poison, then bike your little butt downtown and buy some there."
"How was your solution any better? The flies are still dead."
She smiled. "So it worked! I'm glad! Nature works, you know. You just have to be patient."
"Well, now I need something to get rid of the spiders. And not more spiders! Or bugs! You don't have a 'deadly poison'? Just a simple thing to... kill the goddamn bastards..." Unknowingly, I was clenching my fists and raising my voice.
"Oh," she said. "It's not just the spiders, is it."
I shook my head. I didn't think I wanted to talk about it but soon I was telling her everything that happened. "And then he told me I couldn't go to this party and --" It sounded so petty saying it out loud. Here I was, fussing like a brat because I couldn't get my way.
But Edna nodded sympathetically. She gestured to the dead tree outside her window. "You know, one of my customers once offered to take that tree down as payment," she said. "'It's a thousand dollar job, at least,' he told me. But I wouldn't take it. Sure I would have liked the tree moved but I couldn't sell him what he wanted."
She opened one of the many cabinets along her kitchen wall. She pulled out a spice bottle full of a blue liquid that swirled within the glass that held it. "This will take care of those spiders," she said.
"Wait, what was it?" I said. "What did he want?"
She looked at me and smiled, but her eyes were sad. "He wanted out. Of life, I mean. Poor man had never been married, never had kids. He was getting older and sick of it. He thought a poison from a witch doctor like me would be a peaceful way to go."
"He told you all this?"
She shrugged. "I had a hunch. And when I probed a little, he broke down in tears. Ashamed for even asking, he ran out the house. Never saw him again. From what I hear, he moved to some beach town and is enjoying life for the first time ever. You see? Poison is always a last resort."
"That's why you don't sell it."
Her eyes were bright and mischievous. "I never said I don't sell it. Maybe one day you'll need some. But for now -- try this."
Hesitantly, I grabbed the potion off the table and looked at it. A bubble floated up to greet me like an eye. I wrapped the bottle in a handkerchief and put it in my backpack. I tried to pay for it but Edna refused. Since I wasn't satisfied with the first one, she told me.
As soon as I got home, I followed the bottle's instructions and applied the liquid all over the house. Heavy drops splashed into an iridescent puddle on the floor before quickly dissipating. I put a bunch of it near a crop of webs in a kitchen corner. The spiders didn't seem bothered at all. I sighed, threw the bottle away, and retreated to my bedroom. I did not want to see Ralph when he came home. He could cook his own damn dinner for once.
But the ringing phone brought me out to the hallway. It was Rita. "Where have you been?" she said. "I've been trying to call you."
"I got grounded. Meat-Breath saw me in the car with you and Michael --"
"What? Are you kidding me? Who's going to keep him entertained now at the party? God, he is such a dork. He couldn't shut up about you. And he wanted to give me a ride again today but Jesse got his car fixed so I don't need him anymore."
"Wait -- he asked about me?"
"Yeah but don't worry. I told him you had a boyfriend."
"You what?" I wanted to strangle her but instead I forced myself to calm down. "Ok. Whatever. Just, look, can you give him my phone number? Or do you have his?"
"Um... Maria? I know we're both into different scenes now, but you're still my friend. I'm telling you, this guy is a dork. He acts cool but that hair? Those old clothes? Yuck."
"Rita! Just please --" The sound of a closing car door interrupted me. Ralph was home. I hung up and tried to retreat to my bedroom but I wasn't quick enough. He opened the door right as I walked by.
He swaggered in with glassy, bloodshot eyes. "Hey pretty lady," he said. "You get that spider-killer like I asked?"
"I just finished," I said as I backed away from him.
"Well thank you!" he said. I looked down to avoid his gaze and saw a web as thick as cotton candy under the coat rack.
"Well, I better get to my room. I have to study --"
"Turns out I could have gone to the store myself today. That fuckin boss of mine. That FORMER boss of mine." His face grew dark as his jaw tensed.
"You lost your job?" I said, trying to sound concerned but non-judgmental.
"More like I got sick of their bullshit. But screw em. I got my little girl and that's all I need, right?" His smiled returned as he moved towards me, his arms outstretched. Shit -- was he trying to hug me?
"Um... you know I have... homework..." I backed up against the wall where he covered me like a net. I stood there frozen while he squeezed. The stink of alcohol nearly made me sick as I felt his beard stubble on my neck. He breathed in heavily and I thought he was going to vomit until I realized he was smelling my hair. His hand started to travel down my back when suddenly there was a scratching sound behind him.
He turned around and started yelling. "Hey you bold son of a bitch! Get out of that!" But the raccoon who'd wandered in through the still-open door ignored him. It was too busy munching on the huge web under the coat rack. It deftly grabbed a fleeing spider and crunched down on it just as Ralph stumbled away from me and charged towards it. The racoon scurried away just in time to avoid Ralph's kick.
"Now what the hell," he said as he stood there scratching his belly. "Since when do raccoons take to spiders like that. You ever see anything like that, sugar britches?"
He turned around but I was already heading out the back door. "Just remembered, there's no dinner!" I said. "I'll hit a fast food place. See ya!" Without waiting for a response, I grabbed my bike and left. However, instead of heading towards the burger joint up the road, I went in the opposite direction. Towards Edna's house.
I tore down the highway, yelling at myself to hurry. When I got to Edna's turnoff, my leg cramped up and I was gasping for air. I only slowed down a little bit as I walked down the path, hoping Edna would feel charitable enough to give me what I needed for free so I'd still have some money left for hamburgers.
After all, I didn't want Ralph to go to bed without his dinner.
As I walked, though, Edna's house never appeared. Had I made a wrong turn? There weren't any other trails there, so how could I have gotten lost? But soon I saw it. In a clearing where Edna's house used to be was the old tree that had been leaning on her roof, only now it was flat on the ground. Ants and other bugs flowed in and out of the rotting wood. A heavy carpet of moss covered its top.
I looked closer, and hanging from one of the old branches was a large, oval-shaped seed. Near it, etched into the bare wood, were instructions: "Young lady, you still don't need any poison. Bury this seed and be patient. Nature takes care of things."
I wanted to hurl it into the woods. Bury a seed? Did she know what it was like to have your step father try to molest you? She didn't care about me. She was more interested in showing off her magical tricks and illusions, like making me think her house disappeared. I screamed a litany of curse words and kicked the old tree, breaking off chunks of bark. Nearby, a raven flew away with a squawk. I took a deep breath and apologized to the empty woods, but I was still mad.
And I still had to buy hamburgers for Meat Breath. I left and got a "Monster Mouth" combo meal for him and a side of fries for myself, though I had zero appetite. I put the sagging, oil-stained paper bag on my handlebars and slowly rode home. Thankfully, Ralph was nowhere to be seen. I felt relief when I heard a loud snore coming from his bedroom.
So, plant a stupid seed, I thought to myself as I walked into the backyard with garden trowel . No magic spells, no poisons, just some pointless exercise to teach me some mysterious lesson -- A fat raccoon scared the hell out of me as it trundled from under the back porch. I screamed and it cocked its head at me before going on its way.
I buried the seed and retreated to my room. I was exhausted. A pile of unfinished homework sat on my desk. There was my answer: School was the perfect excuse to start avoiding Ralph. I'd find a group of nerds to study with and study at the library after hours. Maybe I'll even leave bottles of liquor in the morning so Ralph would be passed out by the time I got home.
The next thing I knew, it was morning. Noises from the living room woke me up. I emerged nervously, hoping I wouldn't have to fight off Ralph, but his expression was worried and concerned. "Hey," he said as he walked over to me. "Look, I drank too much yesterday. I'm sorry. It's been stressful lately. You know this food we eat every day costs a lot of money!" He chuckled. "But don't worry. I got a job someplace new." Several cardboard boxes sat in the living room. Shirt sleeves and other miscellaneous items poked out from their hastily closed tops. Outside, the back of the station wagon was stuffed with taxidermied animal heads and more "treasures" of his. Underneath the car was the silhouette of two raccoons, watching us cautiously.
"What's going on?" I said.
"We're moving!" said Ralph. "Grab a box."
"Wait -- moving? But this is your house!"
For just a second, his expression darkened, but then his smile returned. "A few years ago I took out another loan I eventually had to default on. Blame those assholes at work. Sorry I didn't tell you. I guess since you're the woman of the house now, you deserve to know." I was in shock. Moving? But the school year wasn't even over yet. I had to get to Michael's house. Maybe he could talk his grandma into adopting me. Or the seed. If I could just get Ralph to stay for a little bit longer, maybe the seed had powers after all -- Ralph shoved a box of Mom's old dresses in my arms and startled me back to reality. "C'mon sugar britches!" he said. "We gotta go!" .
The rest of the morning was a blur. We passed by Michael's house on the way. I wanted to see him so badly. I stifled my cries and pretended to nap as Ralph drove on. Soon I really did fall into a nap. When Ralph woke me up, the sun was high in the sky and I didn't recognize the road we were on. "Were you gonna sleep all day, pretty girl?" he said. He patted me on the knee. "I know this is a big change but we're going to be a lot happier. A buddy of mine is gonna let us take his spare room for a while. Excited?"
I stared out the window until I realized he was waiting for a response. I faked a smile and nodded.
"And another thing," he said, "that was the sweetest gesture yesterday! It really touched my heart."
I had no idea what he was talking about. The fast food?
"It was like something out of a romance novel," he said, and briefly took the seed I'd planted yesterday out of his shirt pocket before putting it back. "I got up to piss and saw you putting this is the ground. I wondered what the hell you were doing until I dug it up and realized: You were planting a tree. A new beginning, right? Our new lives together. So I had to dig it up. I'm gonna plant it in our yard when I get us a new house. Oh but hey, speaking of piss, I gotta go again."
We were in the middle of nowhere but that didn't seem to matter. He pulled the station wagon over and walked to the tree line. The keys dangled from the ignition.
Ralph howled in relief as he faced the trees and did his business. I quickly scooted over into the driver's seat and tried to start the car. First I had to engage the clutch and press the brake. Or was it the gas? I turned the key and nothing happened. It's the brake. Press the brake, press the clutch, and turn the key -- shit, first I put it into first gear... or was it neutral...
"Hey sugar britches, what in the world are you doing?" Ralph yelled from the side of the road. He zipped up his pants and stumbled a bit as he started back towards the car.
I cursed as I tried to start the car again. Ralph continued to yell until suddenly he stopped. Over the noise of the car I heard a sound like a boulder hitting the earth -- VOOMP. I turned towards Ralph but he was gone.
A few feet from the treeline stood a tree I swore wasn't there a second ago. Among its roots was a pile of something that looked like raw hamburger meat. A raven had already arrived to investigate. A few drops of blood were splattered on the windshield. I flicked them off with the wipers, adjusted the seat, and tried to start the car again. It sputtered to life, and for a moment the tires spun in the grass but soon soon gained traction as I turned in the other direction and started the drive back home.
Submitted August 06, 2018 at 06:31PM by finewiththefog https://ift.tt/2LYUEWH
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