Shadows Burned In

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Shadows Burned In Page 12

by Chris Pourteau


  Queenie stood and wagged her tail at the sound of his voice. She licked his face. David stood up and walked into the garage, where the lawn bag and shovel were.

  As he scooped, he assessed the object of his cleanup. Good, he thought. Good firm piles. He smushed one a bit with the shovel. Nope, no worms. David picked up the rest of the piles and sealed up the bag, since it was full. His father would rather a partially filled bag stand open with the poop smelling and attracting flies than seal it up half empty. So wasteful as that was and all.

  David washed off the shovel with the water hose, put it up, patted Queenie on the head again, and went back in the house. He washed his hands, looked himself over, and tried to think of any piece of the plot he might have missed.

  Okay, if I’ve remembered everything, we should have about three or four questions, and then I’m free!

  He walked into the living room, where his father was propped up in his recliner, beer in his right hand, remote control in his left. The old man had taped the Dallas Cowboys game on Monday night and was finally getting around to watching it, though the boy never understood why he bothered. Usually the Cowboys sucked, and that just made his father angry.

  David was pretty sure he knew the line the old man would use to greet him. He said it at least a jillion times during every Cowboys game.

  “Dad—”

  “Y’know,” said his father, “they ain’t played a goddamned decent game since Landry left. Not one.”

  “Yes, sir,” came the automatic reply. “Dad, I finished the backyard. I scooped all the poop.”

  His father looked at him.

  “You tied it up in the bag?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Was the bag full?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Really full?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You washed the shovel?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Dried it? To keep it from rusting?”

  “Yes, sir,” David lied without hesitation. He knew he’d forgotten something.

  “All right then. You can go.”

  Exultation filled the boy. The governor had called at last!

  “And see if you can’t squeeze some of those bite-sized Snickers out of those stingy bitches over on Maple Street. I like those.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He turned away and tried not to break into a sprint as he walked back to his room to grab his stuff for the evening’s adventure.

  “And would you look at that? He couldn’t catch a ball if his hands were flypaper!”

  But David was out of earshot and already planning the night’s events in his head.

  He met Theron over at the high school in front of the administrative building. By 7:30, the mid-fall sun was already mostly gone and a cool breeze washed away the warmth baked into the pavement of the town’s streets. Theron was dressed in a store-bought Spider-Man costume, and he and David had pooled their money to buy David a Batman costume.

  Dad would come unhinged if he knew, David thought, but he don’t, so screw him.

  With their masks on top of their heads, they kneeled in front of the admin building, getting ready to take inventory. In the distance they could hear the shuffling feet of younger trick-or-treaters mingled with the calls of parents to stay to the side of the road as they walked. Theron dumped the contents of his trick-or-treat bag on the sidewalk.

  “Okay,” he said. “We’ve got firecrackers. Always good. Matches to light ’em. Rope. Toilet paper. What are we missing?”

  David thought a minute. “I could’ve brought some dog poop.”

  Theron rolled his eyes. “You mean you didn’t?”

  David shook his head. “And I just cleaned up the backyard too.”

  “Aw, man. That would’ve been so fine. Right on the front porch. Knock – knock – knock, light her up, and . . . aw, that would’ve been so cool.”

  “Sorry, dude. But I ain’t going back to the house.” He thought his chances of recovering some of Queenie’s droppings without his father noticing he was back were pretty good, actually. The old man would be snoring in front of the television by now. But there was always the off chance he might get caught, so he decided against the whole idea right then and there.

  Theron nodded. He’d seen firsthand how David’s father could be. “That’s okay. We’ve got enough. Come on.”

  They pulled their masks down over their faces and walked away from the high school, cutting across the parking lot and walking along Second Avenue. Goblins, ghosts, and other members of the Justice League passed them by. To all the world, Theron and David looked as intent as their fellows on amassing a ton of sweets. To be honest, neither of them knew exactly what was coming. But Theron knew he wanted to light a fire under Old Suzie’s broomstick, and David was happy to be along for the ride.

  Before long—perhaps, even, before they really wanted to be—the two boys were facing Old Suzie’s house from the street. They looked across the expansive front lawn, which would look immaculate until the first freeze of the year would turn it yellow-brown. Suzie mowed in circled patterns, and she must’ve mowed the lawn recently because the sweet, heavy smell of freshly cut grass was in the air.

  They stared at the house, trying to reconnoiter from here as best they could. The long arms of the trees lifted and lowered with the wind. In the distance they could still hear trick-or-treaters and their parents going from house to house deeper in the neighborhood, but none ventured up Old Suzie’s driveway. Still, there stood a pumpkin on her front porch—a massive one, with evil eyes and missing teeth, a heavy candle flickering inside. Lining the porch were several smaller pumpkins, each carved differently, with their own birthday-cake-sized candles inside. A queen and her court, all in a line, or so the giant wicked pumpkin and its entourage seemed. Someone had done a lot of work carving them. The front porch light was on and already plagued by bugs. Only a light or two was on inside the house.

  “She’s probably in there watching her shows,” Theron said. His voice seemed divided, part of him hoping he could guess her whereabouts and the other part wanting the local stories about her being a witch to really be true.

  “Yeah,” said David. “Probably busy mixing a cauldron of something in front of the TV.”

  Theron giggled. “Double, double, toil and trouble, cauldron boil and cauldron bubble . . . Can I buy a vowel?”

  David snickered.

  “All right, Batman, let’s go.”

  David’s heart skipped a beat as he realized they were actually going forward with the plan. Tonight they’d have their way with Old Suzie and her house. “Right behind you,” he said.

  They ran across the front lawn and made their way to one of the oaks closest to the front porch. Panting and excited, they dropped down next to the tree and, remembering every war movie they’d ever seen, darted their eyes right and left to make sure no one had seen them. David’s eyes focused on the trees around them, their limbs slowly waving Spanish moss.

  David had the thought that he was in the Haunted Forest in The Wizard of Oz. He wondered if the trees would reach out for him, hold onto him until Old Suzie could come out and capture them. The trees looked taller all of a sudden. And was it the wind or something else that moved their limbs just a bit more than a moment before? But he took heart that he couldn’t see any apples. Of course he couldn’t, these weren’t apple trees. Whew!

  No ammunition, he thought, still thinking of the movie.

  “Hey!” Theron yell-whispered.

  David turned to him.

  “What are you waiting on? I said let’s get to the porch!”

  David nodded and followed.

  Their costumes made being stealthy a challenge. Theron almost tripped over something on the ground because of the limited vision through his mask’s eye slits. But they made it and stepped carefully, almost reverently, up on the porch. Since the light was on, they had to be especially cautious. Theron stepped onto a board that creaked loudly, as if th
e house itself were announcing visitors to Old Suzie. A thought went through David’s mind that it was like ringing the triangle for dinner, like the cowboys used to do out on the trail.

  creak

  (dinner’s here)

  creak

  (special delivery)

  The skin on their arms pimpled up and the hair rose on their necks. Theron thought he could actually feel his Spidey sense tingling.

  What David could feel was exactly how full his bladder was. “Now what?” he asked.

  “Now, we knock,” said Theron. With his face behind the Spider-Man mask, his voice sounded hollow and muffled.

  Theron inched his way up to the door.

  creak

  (spider and bat at the door)

  creak

  (just the ingredients I was looking for)

  Theron looked back at David and counted off on his fingers—one, two, three.

  knock – knock – knock

  “Trick or treat!” they yelled in unison.

  The boys jumped off the porch and darted around the railing to hide out of sight. They positioned themselves so they could still see the front door. A little out of breath, not so much from the running but because he was scared to death, David tried to calm himself down.

  Maybe she could hear them breathing. Maybe she could smell their breath. Maybe she would know just where to look for them.

  They heard the front door scrape against its facing as she opened it. Into the light stepped Old Suzie. She wore a workman’s shirt and heavy boots and overalls, but she was missing her trademark cowboy hat. It was hard to see her hair because the porch light cast weird shadows, but it looked like it didn’t go below her collar. Short and iron gray. And she had a huge grin on her face. No, a huge smile.

  David wondered what she was smiling at, then snapped to it immediately. What else? Little boy pizza just arrived, he thought. And she looks hungry.

  “Hello?” she said, the porch creaking under her weight. Her voice sounded strange, like if it didn’t get an answer, it might just never speak again. Then her smile started to fade back into the hard, tanned lines on her face. She looked left and right, strained her neck forward to get a better view of her own front yard. “Hello?” she said again. She listened to the crickets chirping. In the distance, she could still hear trick-or-treating children down the street.

  But none here.

  She sighed once, stood up a bit straighter, and went back in. Normally when she closed the front door, she had to push it closed two or three times to get the warped wood past the facing. But this time Suzie closed it with sufficient force to make it in one try.

  David and Theron saw none of this. As soon as she’d opened the door and stepped out on the porch, Theron had grabbed his friend’s arm and pulled him around toward the back of the house. This had been the diversion. Now they were putting the battle plan into action.

  They made their way to the back door, keeping close to the house, just like in the movies. Theron peered through the screen. Low light shone from the windows in the kitchen.

  “Come on!” said Theron. “This is it!”

  David was less sure. “This is what?”

  “We’re going in, of course!”

  “What?”

  “We have to go now! While she’s still around front!”

  “But—”

  “What are you, scared?”

  “Yeah, no, I—”

  “I’m going, then.”

  And with that, Spider-Man reached for the back door. David thought for a moment, wiped his cold palms on his polyester costume. If I don’t go, Theron will tell everyone at school. And then Pete Lasco won’t be the only one wanting to kick my butt. A shivering Batman followed after.

  Theron opened the screen door and its loud spring made a sound

  rrrrrrrrraaaaaaaawwwww

  that made them both pause. Then Theron screwed up his courage and placed his hand on the back door’s handle. He slowly turned it to the right. It was unlocked. He carefully pushed it open.

  The kitchen was smaller than David thought it would be. He could smell something cooking and wondered how witches preferred their children cooked nowadays: fried, steamed, or baked in an oven?

  (the old-fashioned way)

  They inched into the kitchen. The front door slammed, and Theron nearly jumped out of his skin. Voices were coming from the other room. Anxious voices.

  (children for the pot)

  Plaintive.

  David and Theron looked at one another. Their mouths hung open behind their masks. They could hear snippets of the conversation, and the words “afraid,” “rescue,” and “lovey” came to them.

  Then there was laughter.

  Theron crawled to the kitchen doorway. The door leading into Suzie’s parlor was open. He saw her shadow approaching. Her big feet clunked on the hardwood floor as they came toward him. He could tell by her steps she was in a foul mood.

  (want it quick and painless, kids)

  Her feet pounded like they were trying to punch holes in the floor. The closer they got, the madder they sounded.

  (don’t think so)

  Then they turned away and Theron heard her sit down in the parlor.

  “. . . rescued . . .”

  David came up beside him and looked into the parlor. Suzie’s chair sat at about a thirty-degree angle to the kitchen door, and with its back to the front door.

  “. . . impossible . . .”

  If she turned her head left and bothered to look, she would see them there kneeling in the doorway, trying to be inconspicuous superheroes.

  “. . . Gilligan! . . .”

  Instead, she stared straight at the TV.

  Theron pulled David back into the kitchen. “Okay,” he whispered, “now we have some fun.” He opened the bag he’d brought and took out two firecrackers and matches.

  “What are you gonna do with that?” David asked stupidly.

  Theron’s skin scraped the plastic as he smiled behind his mask. “Have some fun with the old witch.” He lit a match. “Now here’s what we’re gonna do. We’ll set off a few firecrackers, then run straight for the front door and out of here, okay?”

  In the other room the boom of commercials began with bright music, loud voices, and hyperactive announcers. David suddenly felt very sick—that queasy feeling you get inside when you realize the milk you just drank must’ve started to curdle. “Why not go back out the back door?” he asked.

  Spider-Man cocked his head to one side. “Because, dummy, then there wouldn’t be any fun in it.”

  David swallowed. “Oh.”

  “Here we go . . .”

  Theron touched off a string of five firecrackers and was preparing to toss it into the parlor when Old Suzie stepped into the kitchen for a beer.

  “What the . . . ?”

  Batman peed himself.

  Spider-Man stood in the center of the kitchen like a plastic army man, legs spread apart, left arm forward for balance, right arm cocked back with a hand full of firecrackers, poised to throw.

  “What are you kids doin in my house?”

  The fuse burned.

  David couldn’t speak. He tried to open his mouth, but his lips just brushed against his mask. Theron tried to move and felt as if his joints had frozen. One look at the much-talked-about Medusa had turned him to stone.

  “You gonna answer me, or—”

  CRACK . . . CRACKCRACKCRACK . . . CRACK

  The firecrackers exploded in rapid succession, and only after the first one went off did Theron remember to drop them. The tiny explosion set his hand to stinging and he cried out. Suzie screamed at the noise and David just sat there on the floor, working his mouth and not breathing, feeling his lower body getting warmer.

  “Great God Almighty!” Suzie yelled. David managed to get his feet under him. She was going for Theron. Good, one part of David’s mind thought, more time for me to get out.

  But Theron had found his feet too. David scampered t
oward the parlor as fast as he could, Theron on his heels.

  “Wait!” came the heavy, been-doing-her-husband’s-work-for-years voice. “You boys come back here, damn it!”

  “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” screamed David, imagining what she’d do to them if she caught them.

  Her big boots came clomp-clomp-clomping after them. The boys split up, running around the parlor like chickens in a farmyard, trying to keep Suzie’s furniture between them and her.

  “You boys have some explaining to do!”

  Theron led the charge for the front door.

  “Oh, no you don’t!”

  clomp – clomp – clomp

  But the boys beat her to the hallway and that’s when David saw it, he saw it! The cauldron she mixed her children up in with

  (spiders and bats)

  eye of toad and tongue of snake to make them mmm mmm good.

  Suzie grabbed him by the cape.

  “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” screamed David again.

  “Great God Almighty!”

  “Let him go!” Theron yelled bravely as he opened the door to make his own escape.

  “I don’t think so,” said Suzie as David struggled to get free of her. She tugged, trying to get a better grip while he squirmed, and suddenly there was a loud

  rrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiip

  and Batman was de-caped. As he pulled free, David fell forward, knocking the huge cauldron-bowl onto the floor, where it shattered. He could hear Suzie audibly gasp at the sight as dozens of crystal pieces and hundreds of tiny candies went everywhere. David made the obscure observation that Suzie had been planning on giving out those tiny bite-sized Snickers his father liked so much, and thinking about the old man filled him with dread. But he pushed all that aside running through the front door onto the porch and he and Theron made good their escape.

  Behind them Old Suzie stood in the doorway, looking back and forth from their forms growing smaller by the second to the broken mess on her floor but unable to coax any words from her throat. She stood there, rubbing her eyes from time to time, just stood there and stared into the night, long after the boys had vanished. Then she slowly closed the door and went to the kitchen to get the broom and dustpan and trashcan. And that beer.

 

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