by Gina Ranalli
Her gaze wandered to the framed photo of Emily that sat to the right of the monitor and she felt an ache of a different kind. It wasn’t her daily responsibilities or the dean getting to her at all. It was what had happened with her daughter the previous night. All those flies in the toilet…
It was odd enough that Emily had felt the need to “collect” and put them where she did, but what was troubling Tess the most was the how of it. How had Emily been able to catch them? When Tess had asked her, the girl had simply stated that she just grabbed them from wherever they had been. Not out in the air, which would have been even more disturbing, but wherever the flies had been walking.
“On the counter mostly,” Emily had said as they sat at the kitchen table, Tess with a cup of decaf tea and Emily with a cup of orange juice. “Some of them were on the wall in my bedroom, too.”
“And you just…reached out?”
“Yep. I scooped ‘em up like how Daddy taught me to catch Japanese beetles that time we went camping.”
Tess had crinkled her nose at that. Josh had always done his best to ensure that their kid was unafraid of insects, even going so far as to let spiders crawl on his hand and eventually hers as well. It wasn’t until later that Tess had discovered that Josh himself was slightly phobic about bugs and only braving the encounters for Emily, not wanting his own kid to share his fears.
“And they didn’t fly away?” Tess asked Emily.
“Nope. I didn’t want to touch them ‘cause I know they’re filthy but it was the only way to…to…” She’d trailed off, frowning and in danger of crying again.
“To get rid of them?” Tess volunteered.
“I guess so.”
“But, honey, that’s what the fly tape is for. You know that.”
“The fly tape won’t work,” Emily said matter-of-factly.
Tess raised a brow. “Of course it will. It’s already working.”
“Not enough,” Emily said. “Can I have some Cheerios?”
By then it was nearing 5:00 AM and Tess didn’t think she would be able to sleep anymore but wanted Emily to at least try. “I think you should go back to bed, sweetie. It’s a school day.”
“But, I’m not sleepy!”
“I’m sure you will be once you get under the covers. Now, come on. Upsy daisy.”
Emily had protested a good deal more but just as Tess had predicted, had fallen asleep almost immediately.
I should have been so lucky, Tess thought, still staring blindly at her computer. She’d lain down on the sofa for a while, but couldn’t get her mind to settle. Plus, the buzzing flies were proving to be more and more disconcerting and finally she’d given up, put on a pot of coffee and messed around online until it was time to wake Emily and ready them both for the day ahead.
Pushing her chair away from the desk, Tess rose and left her office, heading towards the vending machine down the hall. Maybe some caffeine would perk her up.
As she pumped change into the soda machine, she decided she was hungry as well and got a bag of corn chips from the snack machine. Carrying her pathetic lunch back to her office, she was already feeling a little better. When she was finished eating, she intended to call an exterminator and see what they could tell her. Maybe have someone out to the house to find out where the hell those vile little bastards were coming from.
Tearing open the chip bag with her teeth, she tossed a glance over her shoulder, looking out at the hallway through her open door. She supposed she could just call them now, while she was thinking about it. Before things became too hectic with the dean coming to check on her progress, as Tess was almost sure she would, in addition to her office hours, which were scheduled to begin in another hour or so.
Chomping a chip, she rummaged in one of the lower desk drawers and pulled out a fat phone book. She opened it to the Yellow Pages and began trailing her index finger down the list of exterminators. Face thoughtful for a moment, trying to decide which one sounded best, she popped another chip into her mouth and cracked open her Diet Coke. After a long swallow, she said, “Screw it,” and picked a number at random.
A croaky female voice answered on the first ring. “Anteaters.”
“Hi,” Tess said and proceeded to tell the woman of her trouble. To her amazement, the woman remained silent, did not gasp in shock even once. When Tess was done relating her story, she paused, certain that now would come the exclamations of horror.
Instead, the woman said, “Well, it sounds to me like you’ve got yourself a case of a disgruntled previous tenant. Not as uncommon as you’d think. Lots of sickos in the world, you know.”
“Disgruntled previous tenant?” Tess asked.
“Yep. Sometimes when a tenant gets evicted they get their revenge by cutting holes in the walls and tossing a chuck of meat in there before patching the wall up again. Other times, they throw in vegetables, a carton of milk, cottage cheese. Anything that will rot, and rot good. Stinks the place to high heavens and next thing you know you got maggots crawling around on your kitchen floor, pouring out of the baseboards and you’ve got no clue why. Welp, I’m here to tell you, that’s usually why. Disgruntled tenants.”
Tess was eyeing her chips with less enthusiasm as she said, “I’m not a renter though. I’ve owned my home for over six years.”
This new information did not dissuade the woman from her theory. “Any roommates?”
“I have a six year old daughter.”
There was a pause, before the woman said, “No one else? Disgruntled babysitter, maybe?”
Frowning, Tess said, “No, I’m pretty sure the babysitter isn’t disgruntled. Is there anything else that could be causing the infestation?”
“Welp, something could have crawled up under your house and died. That’s another big one. Dead animals. Have you noticed any bad smells?”
“No, but with the way my hay fever has been lately, it would have to be pretty bad for me to smell anything.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure you’d smell it, alright. Ain’t nothing like it, I can tell you that. It’ll make your eyes water and keep you awake at night. What about your daughter? She smell anything?”
Tess sighed, glanced at her watch. “No, not that I know of.”
“Maybe one of the guys should come out and have a look around, just in case.”
“How much would that cost?”
“The estimate would be free, but of course, Willie will need to assess the situation before being able to give you a firm quote. You want me to put you on his schedule?”
Tess agreed and proceeded to give the woman her information. If it ended up costing a lot, she was sure Josh would pay for half of it. By the time she hung up, she’d made an appointment for the following afternoon and the dean, Roxanne Louis, was standing in the doorway, her bird-shaped face a study in impatience.
“Lisa Martini?” she said.
Tess said, “Yes? What about her?”
“A student of yours?”
“That’s right.” She took a gulp of her soda, not wanting it to get warm. “She’s the one I told you about. Always disrupting my class, whining about the assignments, saying the tests are unfair.”
“She’s in my office right now. Sobbing.”
“Christ,” Tess groaned. “Okay, I’ll be there in a minute.”
Roxanne gave her a sympathetic look and then vanished down the hall in the direction of her office. Tess wolfed down the remaining chips in her bag, drained the can of soda and checked her watch again. Literally no time for anything more substantial, she left her office and stopped at the vending machine once more. Another Diet Coke and another bag of corn chips. Great. Here I am, trying to teach my daughter about healthy eating and I’m just shoveling garbage down my gullet like a sow. What a hypocrite.
In the dean's office, she found Roxanne seated at her desk, reaching over the top of it to hand Lisa Martini a tissue. Lisa looked up at Tess with red-rimmed eyes and said, “Hi, Ms. Waters.”
“Hi.” Tess sat do
wn in the chair beside the girl—who was probably nearing thirty if she was a day—and offered her the most concerned expression she could manage. “What’s wrong, Lisa?”
It was like she’d opened a dam. Lisa burst into tears and began telling both women why the burdens of her studies were causing her to have a nervous breakdown. She had a child, a dead end job and a sick mother.
Tess had heard it all before. She continued to keep her face as neutral as she could and nodded in all the right places while hoping no one could hear her stomach rumbling. When there was a break in Lisa’s barrage of self-pity, Tess took the opportunity to ask if either of them would be offended if she ate her chips. She knew it was rude, but this was the last chance she’d have to eat until dinnertime. Roxanne gave her a quick nod and Lisa, between sobs, also stated that she didn’t mind.
“Thanks.” Tess set the soda on the corner of Roxanne’s desk and tore into the bag of corn chips. A surge of angry flies escaped the cellophane, buzzing furiously as they flew up into Tess’s face. She screamed, the bag flying from her hands and into the air, spewing chips and more flies, some of them dead, but most very much alive.
Lisa also screamed, her hands raised to cover her face as Roxanne leapt to her feet and exclaimed, “Oh my God!”
Batting at the flies, Tess was up from the chair and cursing, everything else forgotten. She was vaguely aware that Lisa had risen and run from the room, squealing in terror as she went.
“What the hell?” Roxanne demanded, as if it was something Tess had done on purpose. “They came out of the chip bag?”
Grim-faced, Tess didn’t reply, still doing her best to swat the flies out of the air, both her hunger and job stress completely forgotten.
CHAPTER 11
Josh drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, rain spattering the windshield as he stared out at the graying afternoon.
He’d been parked in front of the college entrance for about fifteen minutes, waiting for Tess to emerge. Her voice on the phone had scared him and he’d insisted on picking her up, much to Gillian’s dismay.
It was more than just her voice and you know it.
It had been what she’d said. About the flies.
She’d said she thought she was too shaken to drive right away and could he pick Emily up and meet her at the house in about an hour. Josh had told her that was ridiculous; he would come get her and together they would fetch Em and go back to the house. He wanted to hear more about this fly business.
Now he wasn’t so sure. He remembered the old adage ignorance is bliss and for the first time in his life he suspected that it might be true. But he was without the luxury of ignorance. To turn his back on his daughter was unthinkable. It would make him the worst kind of coward, the kind he himself had always said should be punished by more than just the standard laws of the land.
You’re getting carried away here, buddy. Settle down. It’s just flies, not an abusive step-father or boyfriend or teacher. Nothing to worry about, really. Just flies.
He scowled at his reflection in the rearview mirror, chastising himself, though he didn’t know for what. For trying to convince himself that the flies were “just flies”? Or for what he really felt, deep down. Couldn’t help but feel.
That whatever was happening with the flies was most definitely not “nothing to worry about.” How could it be, when he was already worried? And Tess was worried as well, and she wasn’t a woman who easily spooked. When they’d spoken on the phone earlier, she’d sounded absolutely terrified.
He continued to drum his fingers against the wheel, berating himself back and forth for another five minutes until Tess emerged from the building and made her way over to his Chevy Tahoe. When she climbed in, she said, “I still can’t believe you haven’t gotten rid of this truck. It’s not like you haul anything in it.”
His lips pinched tight together for a heartbeat before he replied, “Hello to you too, Tessie. Picking you up is no problem at all. Don’t worry about it.”
She gave him a look and he was struck by the fear in her eyes. Suddenly, he felt bad about his sarcasm, even though he knew she deserved it.
“Sorry,” she said, pulling on her seat belt. “I have no idea why I said that. Nerves are getting the best of me, I guess.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied as he checked for oncoming cars before pulling out. “Sounds like you’ve been having a hell of a time.”
Sighing, she said, “That’s one way to put it. I keep trying to tell myself I’m just being paranoid, that all this shit is just a coincidence, but…”
“It doesn’t feel like it, does it?” he finished for her.
“No. For some reason, it doesn’t.”
They sat quietly for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the wipers swish-thump, swish-thump, swish-thump. It was a sound Josh found soothing. The sound of the rain pattering against the roof of the car, the tires thrumming on the pavement. He loved it all, almost wished he could go to sleep listening to these sounds.
“It was more than just flies coming out of a chip bag, Josh,” Tess said quickly, as though she were confessing something to him.
He glanced at her. “What do you mean?”
Refusing to meet his gaze, Tess went on to tell him about the events of the previous night, about Emily being compelled to collect flies and imprison them in the toilet bowl. He listened without interruption, his eyes widening ever so slightly as Tess began to repeat Emily’s words, verbatim. When she was finished, they’d arrived at the daycare center and Josh found a place to park, but neither of them made any move to get out. They both sat silently, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular.
When at last Josh spoke, he was alarmed at the squeakiness of his voice. “Do you think— ” He stopped, cleared his throat, and tried again with better results. “Do you think we should take her to see someone?”
“Like who?” Tess asked sharply.
“I don’t know. A doctor, for starters. Maybe the divorce is affecting her more than we thought.”
“Is the divorce affecting me more than we thought too? The problem isn’t Emily, the problem is these fucking flies.”
He could tell by her expression that she’d sounded more hostile than she meant to. She gave him a sheepish look before turning away to gaze out the passenger side window.
Josh ran a hand over his cheek, his chin, his upper lip, comforted by the scratchy stubble that he felt beneath his fingers. “You want me to go inside and get her?”
“No,” Tess said quickly. “She’s expecting me. If she sees you, it might make her think something bad has happened.”
The statement raised his hackles and he didn’t trust himself to speak without sounding argumentative. He nodded, letting the air out of his lungs slowly so as not to sound as though he was sighing, though he was.
“I’ll be right back,” she said and left the pickup.
While he waited, he thought back to the other night and touched the back of his head tentatively. He no longer wore a bandage but the area was still tender and the scab was hard and crusty, about two and a half inches long. A dream, Gillian had said. If that was true, it had certainly been the most realistic one of his life. Of course, the flies had disappeared almost instantly. If they had been real, then surely they would have been swarming around the room for some time. Just a dream, then. A very vivid, very lucid dream, but a dream nonetheless.
But this stuff with Emily—
The passenger side door opened and there she was, dressed in a pink T-shirt with the Power Puff Girls on the front and blue jeans with grass stained knees. “Hi, Daddy!”
Josh grinned, the first real one he could remember since his dream. “Hey, baby girl! How are you?”
Tess lifted Emily up into the cab and the girl scooted over to her father on her knees to wrap her skinny little arms around his neck and kiss his cheek. “Good, Daddy! How are you?”
“I’m excellent now,” he told her, hugging her tight. “Have
I told you lately that I love you?”
Emily laughed. “I love you too!” She squirmed out of his arm, turning towards Tess who was climbing into the truck and carrying Emily’s spring jacket and a piece of paper in one hand.
“Mommy, show Daddy my painting!”
Tess slammed the door, reached over Emily’s head and passed the paper to Josh. He accepted it, still grinning from ear to ear. Even his ex-wife’s foul mood couldn’t mute the joy he felt when he was with his kid. Emily seemed to make everything right with the world. With his world, anyway.
He examined the painting of what he suspected was supposed to be an elephant. “Wow!” he exclaimed. “This is the best painting you’ve ever done, kiddo. You’re a real artist!”
“You can have it,” Emily said matter-of-factly. “Mine and Mommy’s refrigerator is covered already.”
His smile slipped a fraction, though he couldn’t say for sure why her words stung. “Well, thanks, Em. I’ll put it up as soon as I get home. You want to hold it for me while I drive?”
“Okay.” She took the paper and let Tess strap her in, looking eagerly out the windshield, a child anxiously awaiting whatever would happen next. Josh put the truck in drive, marveling at how not even the gloomy weather could dampen a kid’s mood, especially when she sat between two people she knew loved her more than life itself.
CHAPTER 12
Gillian Joel liked living the good life.
She hadn’t held a job since the death of her husband Brian nearly ten years before and could honestly say she didn’t miss working. Didn’t long for “something to do.” Didn’t feel bored or useless or aimless. She enjoyed her life. She was wealthy, but not obnoxiously so and lived well beneath her means in order to maintain a healthy bank account. There was no way she was going to end up as one of those women who suddenly needed to be searching for gainful employment at the ripe old age of sixty-five or some such shit.
No fucking way.
