by Mav Skye
It mimics May, “Maybe we should just leave.” And then me, “Tonight everything is going to change.” Both of our voices ring out with the whistling, “Supergirls! Supergirls!”
I keep moving, saving the last bit for the whistling deer head. It suddenly quiets as I grab a chair and pour the remaining liquid on its head, then dive off the chair to the kitchen and turn back.
The whistling deer head says, “Up, up and away!” Gas drips into the open fire, and the living room explodes into flames.
I scramble around the elegant table with spilling fruit, and out the door to the left, the white door, white as heaven.
The one I should have chosen in the first place.
13
The Dream of the Stars
I race down the rich folks suburb towards the highway. My skin burns from the heat of the explosion. I hear whistling. “Shut up!” I say, wishing I was wearing more than my busted wonder bra and not so sexy (pissed in) get away jeans.
I reach in my pocket to feel the money, but, like May, it is gone. There is nothing left. I look up at the sky, it is void of stars, but the moon is full and round.
Tears drip down my face, mingling with blood. I wipe them away, and smear the wetness on my jeans. I take one step after another. Focusing on the whistling that goes on and on, leading me somewhere.
I slide behind a tree as emergency vehicles and fire trucks bustle down the street. After awhile, I don’t care who sees me or not, and keep walking.
“Jenn! Jenn!”
I turn at the sound of her voice. Under the full moon, in a clean Godzilla t-shirt, May sprints down the street with Leroy’s duffle bag, her hair sweeping out, catching moonbeams.
I stand speechless. She can’t be there, but she is. The money can’t be there either, but it is too.
May smiles in the moonlight. All the blood and gore are gone. Her hair is clean. She twists it off to the side. “Good news, Jenn!” She bends to her knees and breathes deeply, trying to catch her breath. She holds up a finger.
The whistling noise is over me, around me, beneath me. I tell it to hush, to listen to May.
She drops the bag to the ground and stretches up. “Whew! What a run. Like I said, good news!” She does a little tap dance, zipping her finger in the air like Zorro, a hint of lace blue undies flashing me.
I want to reach out and touch her more than anything, but I hold back fearing she will disappear if I do. Is she really there? Dear God, please let her really be there. I smile shyly feeling hope. I feel a Pop! inside me. A release, I let go.
“Good news?” I say.
“Okay,” she says, sobering up. She snatches my hand and holds it for a second, looking into my eyes in anticipation for my reaction. “I’m not crazy anymore.”
At first, my hand slips through hers, as if she’s a ghost (no!), but then I feel that pop again, more letting go.
“Ha!” When tears slide down my cheek, she throws her arms around me, and I can feel her skin, her hair, her warmth. I hear whistling and say, “The whistling deer head speaks!”
“I knew it!” She giggles. “Where does it say to go?”
I hug her back, fiercely. “Anywhere you want.”
“Someone told me once there’s a little town not too far from here. It’s a farming town and smells of cow shit, but that’s okay because there’s hanging flowers on every porch…”
“Damn straight.” I pick up the duffle bag. It’s lighter than I remember.
Then hand in hand, we set off into the moonlight.
Supergirls stay together.
Now, I know you feel a little bummed right now. I cried through every edit of this story, but cheer up, Buttercup, there are good things ahead. Fun things. Scary things….
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Excerpt of Supergirls 2: Night without Stars
1
Bad Animals
Jenn sat on the scrubbed porch step with the two little ones in front of her. She braided Tina’s long golden locks of hair while Tina’s brother, Tony, played with pansy blossoms from the potted dishes sitting on the steps.
Jenn plucked a bloom and placed it behind Tina’s ear. “A night without stars is a body without a soul.”
Tony popped a pansy into his mouth. “I can see the stars. They’re up there.” He pointed to the clear night sky.
Tina groaned and touched her forehead in frustration. “Tony! For the hundredth time, stop eating Aunt Jenn’s flowers.”
Tony cocked his head and eyed Jenn. “But she lets me pick ’em for salads cuz they don’t hurt you none. Right, Aunt Jenn?”
Jenn smiled, pausing long enough to ruffle his hair. “Sure thing, kiddo.”
Tina sighed. “Well, save them for the salad already. You know the slugs slimed that pot.”
“They did not, see?” He plucked a petal off and shoved it into his mouth, and then suddenly halted, spitting it out. “Ew!”
“Told you so.”
“Shut up.” Tony grabbed his knees and pouted, letting all the petals drop on the porch steps.
Jenn watched as the breeze hustled the petals off the steps like a cranky woman with a broom. Innocence was like a pansy petal, plucked and blown away by the wind before shriveling into the dirt it had sprouted from.
“It’s so pretty here. I like Colorado so much better than Texas.” Tina pointed. “Aunt Jenn! I see the North Star. It points to the Big Dipper.”
Tony got up from the steps and moved towards one of the two rocking chairs on the small porch. “No, it’s a part of the Little Dipper.”
“No, it’s not, you little worm. Aunt Jenn, tell him. It points to the—”
Tony’s voice rang out in a shrill little kid tone that only nine-year-olds can manage. “Don’t call me a worm! I’m not a worm. Aunt Jenn tell her I’m not a—”
Jenn’s voice cut through theirs. “Both of you are right.” She was always able to ring some sense into May with that voice. And it seemed to work for the children.
“I’m not a worm,” whined Tony.
“You’re a perfect gentleman,” Jenn replied.
Both children quieted, and Tony seated himself in Jenn’s rocking chair. The soft, gentle creaking filled the night alongside croaking frogs. Jenn finished the girl’s braid, and sat down on the porch step beside her, admiring the deep velvet blooms and breathing in their scent before draping her arm over Tina’s shoulders. The girl snuggled into Jenn, despite her maturing eleven-year-old status.
After a time, Tina asked, “Do some people not have souls?”
“Some don’t.”
Tony’s voice piped in. “How can you tell?”
A whisper came beside Tony. Jenn glanced back at the porch at her sister. The moonlight haloed May, and she looked like a midnight angel sitting in the chair beside Jenn’s. May rocked and rocked, but the chair didn’t make a sound. She was silent these days, at peace. It was what Jenn had always wanted for her. “Your Aunt May says that a soulless person takes on the shape of an animal. Like a pig or a wolf.”
Tony looked at the rocking chair beside him. “Do you see Aunt May tonight?”
Jenn nodded. “She’s right beside you, hon.”
May turned and looked at Tony, stretching her long fingers towards his face, touching him.
Jenn knew he couldn’t feel her.
Tony made a face and folded his arms, briefly picking his nose. After discovering the well dry, said, “Well, why can’t I ever see her? I want to see Aunt May.”
“I know, Tony.” Jenn smiled at him, then let her eyes wander to May. She wore the same ol
d Godzilla t-shirt. The beloved monster breathed fire on a broken heart. The shirt was oversized and hung almost to her knees. She didn’t wear pants. Jenn didn’t know how the shirt had grown to be so large or why, but May was happy. If May was happy, then she was happy. “You’ll see her when she’s ready.”
Tina nuzzled into Jenn’s breast. “I think Aunt May lives in the stars.”
Jenn smiled and squeezed the girl’s shoulders. “She does, Tina. She does.”
In the far distance, a car rumbled up the private gravel drive from the old highway.
There was only one person who knew she and the children lived here. Jenn felt a flutter in her stomach. She hadn’t expected Father Wraith tonight. He came only on Saturdays to drop off food, clothes and meds. Occasionally, he even stayed to have dinner with them and play cards. Last Saturday had been one of those times, and when their fingers had brushed during dinner, he hadn't hidden how her touch affected him. He’d looked her straight in the eye, and she swore that electrical zip between them jolted from the top of her head straight down to her toes. He hadn’t said goodbye that night, but he didn’t need to. His body language said it all.
Maybe he was coming back to finish what he’d started. It was Tuesday, and perhaps what he needed to say couldn’t wait all the way until Saturday.
Jenn felt the butterflies again and smiled to herself. She went to give Tina another squeeze when she noticed the girl’s body had tightened up. She whispered, “It’s okay, Tina. It’s only the Father.”
Tina shrugged but glanced around like a wild animal caught in a cage It was instinctual, survival was built into Tina’s very being from years of abuse.
“Sweetheart, he saved you. And me. And Tony. If it hadn’t been for his kindness…”
Tina froze beneath Jenn’s hands and she shrugged away. “He did it to save himself because he didn’t want to get caught with kiddies in his basement.”
Jenn sighed and ran her hands through her hair. “Tina. That is not true.” But, Jenn knew there was no convincing Tina otherwise. Besides her little brother, Tina didn’t trust men, period, and Jenn didn’t blame her. Not after what Tina had been through. “Tina, I will never let anyone hurt you ever again. You need to trust me.”
Tina squeezed her eyes shut. “Okay. Okay, Aunt Jenn.”
Jenn hugged her again before standing. “Alright, kiddos, to bed with you.”
Tony tugged at Jenn’s hand. “But, Auntie Jenn, I wanna see who our visitor is.”
Tina rolled her eyes and looked at Jenn for assurance when she said, “You already know who.”
Tony asked, “But…who?”
Tina said, “Father Wraith, that’s who! Now stop making me sound like an owl.”
Tony went quiet and looked at Jenn with huge knowing eyes. “Oh.” And made a loud, slurping kiss noise.
“Shut up, worm,” said Tina.
The car continued to travel up the long drive, slow and sure, the tires crunching on the gravel like old bones. Its headlights approached the rusted fence line. The car didn’t pause and honk like the father’s usual welcome, his sign to let them know it was him, and all was well.
He probably just forgot.
“Tina, inside…” Jenn grabbed the girl’s hand and rushed both children inside as the headlights approached the small cabin.
She smoothed her blouse wishing she’d worn the navy blue (Father Wraith’s favorite color) instead of the white one with black angel wings. She turned to the kids. “In the bathroom, brush your teeth, and get yourselves to bed.”
“But Auntie Jenn, Tina forgot to get the water, and there’s none left in the kitchen.”
“Tina, I asked you three times earlier to pump a bucket of water from the well, and you said you did.” Jen scolded.
Tina shrugged.
A car door slammed, and Jenn pushed the children off towards the hall leading to the ladder. The two of them slept up in the small loft of the cabin. Two old trunks held their few clothes and blankets donated by the church.
Jenn rushed back to the door and tucked her long, dark hair behind her ears. She’d grown it out since she’d moved onto the property. She used to cut her hair short and dye it a black-ish blue, but after escaping from the Pig’s house, everything had changed, she’d changed. She kept her hair the way May kept hers, and May liked that. They resembled twins, one dark, one light, though May was two years younger.
She unbuttoned the top button of her blouse, then undid the next one before scolding herself (he’s a priest for Christ’s sake!), and quickly buttoned them back up. From her pocket, Jenn snatched a tube of strawberry lip-gloss and applied it quickly, just as three quick knocks sounded from the door.
A phrase from an old children’s cautionary story popped into her mind. She envisioned a dark wolf with red eyes and sharp teeth knocking on her door. Little pig, little pig, let me come in?
The priest always knocked the same, three rapid taps—tap, tap, taps. It always creeped her out. Unable to get the vision of the horrid wolf from her mind, she said, “Who is it?” Then wished she hasn’t asked. How dumb was that? But she had to follow the precautions. Father Wraith insisted on it.
At first, no one answered, but the wind blew, it huffed and puffed outside the little cabin door, blowing rain against the windows. A storm must have rolled in between the time the kids had come inside and the car rambled up the driveway.
Colorado was like that. Clear one moment, stormy the next.
Again, the three taps: Knock, knock, knock.
The sound was almost inhuman, like liquid dripping into an echoing basement. And she knew what that sounded like, didn’t she? Of course, she did. So did May.
She grabbed the doorknob and went to turn it, when May put her hand over Jenn’s.
Jenn looked at her little sister, now standing beside her.
May shook her head; face pale as a ghost.
“It’s okay, May. It’s just the priest.”
Again, Jenn asked, louder, just to be sure. “Who is it?”
Rain hit the windows like hammers. The children laid quiet in the loft now. She sensed their fear. Father Wraith always responded right away.
Why wasn’t he answering? It was the priest. That was his car out there. Or was it? It was too dark to tell for sure. Most importantly, she trusted him. He would never let anything happen to her and the children. He always reminded her to believe in the good things of the world. And this was the moment when she needed to believe, to trust him, because the alternative—
May jumped when the knocks came again. Louder this time. Thump! Thump! Thump!
“Fuck it.” Jenn unlocked the door, and swung it wide open.
It wasn’t the priest.
May screamed a silent scream and ran towards the kitchen. Jenn wanted to follow, but couldn’t. She stood fixed to the wooden floor she’d just scrubbed that very morning, as the man in the smiling wolf mask glowered over her. The eyes through the mask were dark, so dark that Jenn’s own reflection was mirrored within them. Only she didn’t see herself, she saw a terrified May screaming at her. RUN! Supergirl, Run! RUN!
The wolf wore a dark cape over his shoulders and had a Bowie knife in one gloved hand, and a rope in the other.
Fat Bastard had come back from hell for revenge. Only this time, he wasn’t a squirmy little pig. He was the Big Bad Wolf. Behind him, lightning flashed daggers across the sky.
Jenn couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t scream. All she could do was stand there, horrified, petrified…Until May grabbed her shoulders from behind and shook her. Run, Jenn-Jenn, Run!
A crack of thunder buzzed around the house, and the suddenness of it woke Jenn up. Instead of running—like May had urged her to do—she snatched at the Wolf’s raised Bowie….
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About the Author
When Mav Skye isn't turning innocent characters into axe murderers, refinishing old furniture, chasing around her s
pring ducklings, or reading the latest horror novel, she's editing at the mighty Pulp Metal Magazine. She adores puppies, pirates, skulls, red hots, Tarantino movies and yes, Godzilla. Especially Godzilla.
I’d love to hear from you. Hit me up!
@MavSkye
mavskye
www.mavskye.com
[email protected]
Also by Mav Skye
Stand Alone Novels
Wanted: Single Rose
Clown with a Hatchet Series
Girl Clown Hatchet
Chasing Clowns—January of 2017
Clown Apocalypse—April of 2017
Supergirls Series
Supergirls 1: Behind the Black Door
Supergirls 2: Night without Stars
Supergirls 3: Ghost of a Chance—Coming Soon!
Tales to Chill Your Bones series:
Scarecrows
Witches
ShapeShifters
BunnyMan
Abyss
Tales to Chill Your Bones, Boxset 1-5
Graveyards
Deadly Women
Werewolves
Dolls
Clowns—Coming Soon!
Short Stories
The Undistilled Sky
Harvester of Days
