“Hello, Rose.”
I spin around, suddenly spooked. I rub at the scars along my arms like totems of protection.
“Who said that?”
I squint and slowly rotate in a circle, searching out every corner to see where that greeting came from. There’s nothing. I’m alone in here.
“I’m down here.”
It came from the hole. There’s someone down there in the hole. I should be afraid but I’m not. I guess I feel fear just like anyone else but it’s a small critter that lives in the back of my mind and it’s easy to ignore. My curiosity is the larger critter in my mind and it always jumps forward and overshadows the fear.
I lean down and peer into the hole. It seems endless. I wonder where it leads. I’ll be in a hole like that someday. We all end up in a hole. We all go to live with the worms. Worms are good for the environment. They eat the dead.
“I can’t see you…”
“That’s okay, Rose. I’m far below. You can hear me though, can’t you?”
The voice seems to come from a long way away, kind of like an echo traveling through miles of cavernous space. I like the voice immediately. It sounds friendly. It sounds understanding. It talks to me like it’s known me for years.
“Yes. Was that you singing just a minute ago? I heard it from outside.”
Silence greets me as a response but I’m certain the voice is still there. I think maybe the voice is a bit shy and self-conscious. I can’t help but smile a little. We have so much in common.
“It was beautiful.”
“I’m glad you liked it. Music soothes the soul. It makes the whole world spin. It’s fun to spin sometimes, Rose.”
The voice is right. I like to spin. I love to twirl. I loved the merry-go-round when I was a little girl. I liked that dizzy feeling most of all. The whisper that wanted me to cut and tear always faded when I was spinning on the merry-go-round.
I’m twirling now in spite of myself, my long black skirt gathered up in my hands. I feel amazing. I feel happier than I’ve felt in years. There’s color in my cheeks and I truly believe that I’m capable of anything right now. Finally I stop myself and return my attention to the hole.
“What’s your name?”
“It’s very old and very lost and your tongue would split into a thousand pieces if you were to try and speak it. You can call me what a mutual acquaintance of ours calls me, though…”
I cock my head, my black hair hanging down into my face like a veil.
“Roman calls me M.”
My heart flutters. My breath quickens. These are the subtleties of obsession.
“You know Ro?”
“I do, Rose. He’s my very good friend. He was working with me on a special project. I’ve gotten to know him very well. It’s a terrible shame about the accident…”
Now my heart is leaping and crawling up my throat and threatening to suffocate me. I am being strangled by panic. I start to scratch at my scars without even realizing that I’m doing it.
“What accident? Is Roman okay?”
“It was dark and his car veered off the road. The woods of this town are crawling with deer and one strolled out in front of him at the wrong moment. The car flipped many times. It was a Buick, I think. Now it is a metal husk blackened by persistent fire. Roman is in the hospital downtown.”
I’m already turning to leave. My voice feels strained and I can’t even think straight. His name just keeps flashing across my thoughts like the beam of a lighthouse. Ro. Ro. Ro. Gotta get to Ro.
“I’m sorry M, I have to go now. I have to go see Ro. He’ll need me. He’ll want to see me.”
M’s voice stops me with my hand on the door. The panic starts to wash away. I’m compelled to turn back around. I feel suddenly very calm. That’s strange.
“There’s nothing you can do for him now, Rose. Roman is medicated and deeply asleep. I’m fairly certain he’ll sleep for a long time. Comas are tricky.”
A tear is running down my cheek. I feel it smearing through my black eye shadow. It feels sticky and gross and I want to wipe it away but my arm feels very heavy and I feel kind of tired too.
“No tears, sweet one. Roman is tough. He’s like a stringy piece of gristle that sticks in your teeth and stays there to disturb you for weeks. Very tough. I have no doubt that he’ll open his eyes to the world again very soon. I can even expedite that process, if you like…”
“You can help him wake up?”
I’m hopeful, the question sounding slurred and slow as it comes out of my mouth.
“Of course. I can do many wondrous things, Rose. I can give you the love that you crave, for example. It’s not wrong to desire love. You’re a charming, talented creature…and the world should love you. You deserve fame. You deserve to be adored. I’d like to see you take your rightful place as the belle of the ball, sweet one.”
Something is happening now. Images are flashing across my eyes. I’m on stage at a massive rock concert. There are thousands of people in the crowd. I’m singing and playing the guitar. People are moshing and throwing up the devil horns and screaming my name over and over again. They love me. They notice me. I matter to them.
“I can make them love you, Rose. You’ll be a darkly delicious queen for all of them to fantasize about. Most importantly, I can make Roman love you. It’s not enough for him to just open his eyes. When he awakens, he should open his eyes and see you as the one woman that he’s always wanted in his life. He should see you for the treasure that you truly are.”
It’s happening again. I’m seeing visions coming up from the dirt. I’m feeling Roman’s hand on my cheek. I taste his lips on my own. He’s holding me close and we’re gazing out at the ocean on a warm summer’s night.
I’m weeping openly now. I can’t help it.
“I can give you his heart, Rose. All you have to do is ask.”
I don’t even have to think about it. My decision is made. My choice is finalized.
My path has never been clearer.
“I want it. All of it.”
“That’s my girl! All this talk of love and we’ve left out hate entirely, haven’t we? It’s another strong human emotion. One of the most honest, in my humble opinion. Very freeing too. I know a secret, Rose! I know who you hate…”
I know too. I’m thinking about her now. Her ugly, shrunken face. Her shit-stained chair. Her little tortures, her little games. I say her name through gritted teeth. Her true name, the one she’s earned.
“Filth.”
“A fitting title for such a vile monster. Bring her to me, Rose. Bring Mommy over for a visit. That’s how we’ll seal our deal!”
M’s voice becomes low and silky, the voice of a fellow conspirator whispering to his closest ally.
“I’ll take care of her for you.”
I’m grinning. It’s a very big grin. Sometimes I search for pictures of wolves on the internet and I think they grin in the exact same way that I’m grinning now.
Filth deserves a present. She deserves a great big surprise. I’m sure M has one for her down in that deep, dark hole.
I wipe my tears away. There’s no need for them now. The future is full of promise. I’ve made a new friend. A special, powerful friend. I can feel that in my bones.
“It would be my pleasure, M.”
I twirl a lock of my long black hair between my fingers. I do that when I’m particularly content.
“What are you, M? You’re granting all these wishes for me. Are you a genie or something like that?”
M laughs. I fall in love with his laugh the moment I hear it. He’s not laughing at me like all the kids at school used to do. He’s not teasing me or making me feel bad. He makes me feel warm and happy. He’s laughing with me instead of against me.
“Something like that.”
Chapter 41
Thorny Rose
I slept so good last night after my meeting with my new friend. I awoke and stretched like a kitty cat. I was even tempted to pur
r. Nothing could shatter this mood. Nothing could wipe away my smile. Not even Filth as she sat there at the breakfast table slurping bacon past her rancid teeth. She didn’t offer me anything. Not even one bite. Still I smiled at her.
She watched her soap operas in the afternoon. She mooned at her favorite soap actors as they romanced the damsels in distress. She greedily sucked down soda all the while and belched out from the gaseous depths of her corrupt soul. I watched the soaps with her. She offered me nothing to drink. Still I smiled at her.
Dinner came late that night. It was lasagna, extra cheesy. Filth could cook a decent meal when she actually dragged herself into the kitchen on rare occasions. I never broke eye contact with her as she shoveled the tasty meat and cheese into her mouth. Her gaze remained shrewd, but I knew her interest was piqued.
She ate every last bite and then licked her foul fingers after it was done. She offered me nothing. She preferred me thin, was fond of telling me that I could stand to lose a little weight. I can remember nights in my room where I literally thought I was starving because of her. The stomach pains, the fatigue, the agony of going to bed with nothing in your belly. It was all her doing. I smiled at her brighter than ever now.
She finally cracked.
“Well aren’t you chipper today, Rosie. Why is that?”
I told her all about it. I’d been rehearsing my story in my head ever since I woke up this morning. I told her about the big garage sale happening this evening in the back of the Merrick house. Filth’s eyes lit up like bloodshot lanterns. She loved yard sales, flea markets, auctions…any kind of sale that gave her the opportunity to add more useless junk to her growing hoard. It’s too cold out now for yard sales so she’d been going through withdrawals. Now was the chance to feed into her compulsion.
“Just down the road there? I gotta check that out. That snooty ass Helena better have some good prices on her nicknacks. And if she don’t…I’ll haggle her right into the ground.”
Filth grinned wide, exposing gums that looked extremely unhealthy and teeth that would give just about any dentist the nightmare of a lifetime. She was already rising to her feet and drawing her ratty old jacket tight around her shoulders. She paused only to take the leftovers that remained on her plate and dump them into the garbage disposal. She grinned at me as she did that. That renewed my hatred for her even more, adding a few more splashes of gasoline onto the inferno growing inside of me. I smiled back.
“I’ll tag along.” I replied, casual and perfectly composed.
Filth looked momentarily distrustful. She then shrugged her shoulders, giving me the idea that she didn’t really give a shit one way or another.
“Suit yourself. I ain’t buying you a damn thing though, Rosie.”
She hawked up a glob of phlegm and spat it out onto the floor while shoving her wrinkly old feet into mud-encrusted work boots.
“So don’t get your hopes up.”
She was already halfway out the door, the sun lowering against the horizon and outlining every hideous flaw on the old monster’s face. I followed behind her, making sure to pull my black hood down low against my face. I allowed myself a little smirk while her back was turned to me.
“That’s alright, mama.”
I caught sight of my own reflection in one of the windows. All long black hair and twinkling eyes, hooded and hateful. I didn’t shy away. I think I’m starting to like my reflection now.
“I just want to spend some time with you.”
Chapter 42
Thorny Rose
It wasn’t hard getting her across the road. She never hesitated on the shortcut leading through the woods either. Filth had her eye on the garage sale prize right now. Her compulsion spurred her onward. She had a bloodhound’s nose for sniffing out useless crap, and she thought she was on the trail. I kept pace a few feet behind her the whole way. There was no conversation. I had no last minute doubts about what I was doing.
I knew something absolutely horrible would happen to my mother when she walked into that root cellar. I didn’t know exactly what, but I had a sneaking suspicion that it would be bloody and violent.
I was hoping for that.
Filth didn’t even slow down when we reached that overgrown patch leading back to the door. She plodded and swatted through brambles and thorns like a stupid, stubborn mule. I made sure we approached the door from the back of the house just in case Roman’s parents were home. We couldn’t risk being seen. There needed to be no witnesses to this little mother and daughter stroll.
The old monster hesitated when we reached the door. Her upper lip curled back from her teeth in something akin to a dog’s snarl. I couldn’t help but stare at the scraggy ingrown hairs growing along the top of that lip. The dying sunlight seemed almost to catch on them.
“What the hell kinda place is this for a garage sale, Rosie?”
“It’s the back entrance, mama. It leads straight through to the garage.”
She responded with a grunt, seeming to accept this. I moved in front of her and slowly opened the door, gesturing for her to go first. She likes to go first in everything in life. This was no exception. Filth shoved past me and I followed behind, silently closing the door behind us and shutting out the light.
“Fuckin’ dark in here. What kinda shit you pulling here, little girl?”
She wheeled around to face me, her expression pulling down into a grimace. It was like seeing a frown appear on dead apple skin. I used to be so afraid of that face when I was a little girl. There is no fear in me now, especially not for this bent, wrinkly old monster. I can only bring myself to feel one thing for her now.
Hatred. Caustic, passionate hatred.
I could feel M all around me in here. It was like he was stroking me with invisible hands, helping me to stay strong and vigilant. My confidence was as hard as stone in the presence of my new friend.
Something started to happen. Suddenly Filth began walking backwards. It was bizarre because she didn’t seem to be controlling her own legs. They moved in twitchy, staggering steps. Her mouth pulled down into a hideous expression, like she was fighting some unseen force to gain back the control of her limbs.
She stopped at the very edge of the hole. Her fingers were contorting and her arms fighting to reach upwards. There was stark terror in her yellowish eyes. Her body was not her own right now. The old monster had finally met something she was powerless against. Something she wouldn’t be able to intimidate or torture.
Filth seemed to be held there in place, frozen and twitching. I stepped towards her, closing the distance. Her eyes pleaded with me. Even though she was unable to speak I could easily see what she wanted. She wanted me to help her. She wanted me to save her. She wanted mercy from her little Rosie.
I stood before her, my face inches from her own. My hood cast dark shadows across my face. I could see my own eyes reflected in Filth’s murky gaze. They were cold, detached. They were orbs filled with murderous intentions.
M’s voice floated up from the deep. Just two simple words…but they were music to my ears.
“Push her.”
I wondered if I’d have any last words for my mother when the time finally came. I thought about that last night before I slept. Anything important I should say before the deed is done. This was my chance.
Nothing at all comes to mind.
My hands burst forward with all the force I can muster and hit Filth directly in the chest. My palms send her plummeting down into the hole in the earth. She manages a weak, choked scream as she falls. It makes her sound especially old.
The root cellar is shaking now. Everything is vibrating. I can’t see Filth falling because that hole is very dark and seems to stretch down into the realm of forever. I hear a scrabbling sound. Something incredibly large burrowing and ascending through the tunnel-like hole.
I hear a wet splat down in the hole. I hear a muffled old voice screaming my name. There’s horror in that voice. It’s the sound of someone screaming while i
n the process of losing their mind, screaming until their very lungs burst inside of them. I hear a terrible crunch. I hear bones cracking like twigs and all the screaming stops.
I hear chewing.
Great, greedy chewing.
A rush of sour wind assaults me and almost knocks me back from the hole. Something gargantuan bursts up out of the darkness like a conqueror worm and spreads many hands outward with many long beckoning fingers. So many eyes see me now. I catch a glimpse of little pieces of my mother caught in teeth the size of jagged tombstones. There are appendages everywhere. There is raw, pulsating flesh everywhere on the thing that is M. I understand immediately that I’m seeing only a little part of him. Only a fragment of the body of M, but it demands to be worshipped.
Dirt Lullabies Page 11
