Crystal Glassblade

The week after her mom got the job was the best Eleanor had in a long time. Until Monday. The minute she woke up, she was saddened because today was the day.

The first day of school. Eleanor could never tell her mother the truth. Mom worked so hard to get her daughter into these great schools that Eleanor felt guilty for even thinking it. But the truth was she hated school. 

She didn’t mind not meeting anyone. She was used to that. But there was another part of her that made her nervous about going to a new school. She might have been a pleasure to have in class, but she always struggled. Even when she brought home her failed attempts, she always heard the same thing.

“Don’t worry. Keep trying. You’ll get it.”

But Eleanor did worry. Because she didn’t get it. And she knew she never would. Especially at a new school.

"Hey. We're going to be late for your first day. Finish your breakfast."

As Eleanor finished her Coco Puffs, she tried to practice reading the back of the box. Danger Dog was the cartoon on it. Danger Dog was the most funniest cartoon on Saturday mornings. Even in this cereal box version, he was hilarious.

But this morning, Eleanor was too nervous to laugh at the cartoon. So, she immediately looked for other things to distract herself. Her eyes found the carton of milk. There was a picture of a missing girl. She was smiling with a face sprayed with freckles. Her name was Juliette Bliss. 

"We're late. Let's go, honey," Mom said.

Eleanor drank the little bit of sugar milk left in the bowl for courage, then zipped up her pink sweater.

As they drove to school, Eleanor listened to how her mother explained how “technically” they didn’t live in the school district, so she kind of lied that her work address was their residence. “So, don’t tell anyone we live in the motel, okay?” said Eleanor’s mother.

“Okay,” Eleanor promised.

As the car drove by the hills, Eleanor looked at the different sections of town. Houses with chipped and missing shingles. Cars in the front lawns on blocks.Then, they moved to the nicer sections of town. Big stoned houses, manicured lawns, shiny cars in the driveways.

As they drove, Eleanor searched for the sky for clouds. They were gone, but she did see something she liked. No matter the neighborhood, it is always close by. Big and beautiful with tons of trees. All colorful and pretty.

For a moment, she thought she saw something run into it. Fast as lightning. She wasn’t sure what. Maybe a deer. “Mom, what is that?” Eleanor asked.

“The Blue Mist Woods,” her mother said.

When they arrived at school, Eleanor’s mother gave her a quick kiss. “Wait for me after school. No strangers. If you need me, call the number of my workplace. The number is sewed into your clothes. I love you, sweetheart.”

Eleanor nodded and kissed her mother back. She got out of the car and approached the school entrance. Dozens of kids were already running around and screaming, saying hello after their summer vacations. These twin brothers were pushing and shoving each other. One kid who had a lazy-eye patch was playing tricks with a yo-yo. A couple of girls stood with their new school clothes. 

When the kids saw Eleanor, they stopped and looked at her like they always did in new places. She was the shiny new thing in the store window. And they nodded the way the kids always did. Quiet and mistrusting at first. Like any animal pack. 

Eleanor quickly walked into her classroom and took a seat near the back. She knew not to sit up front because it’s a sign of weakness. Her mother said,”Never mistake being nice for being weak.” Eleanor thought maybe that worked in the grown-up world. Not the kid-world.

“That’s my seat.”

Eleanor looked up and saw a second grader with a designer sweater and pigtails. She would soon know Jenny Hansen by name. But right now, she was just this kid who was mad that Eleanor didn’t know the rules.

“What?” Eleanor asked timidly.

“You’re in my seat, get off.” 

“Oh. Okay. Sorry.” Eleanor quickly knew the drill. When the teacher took roll later, Eleanor quickly moved to the only open seat left. Right in front of the teacher’s desk. 

 The teacher was older like a mom, but she dressed like she was still a teenager.

She quickly put her thermos down on the desk with a thunk and wrote her name on the whiteboard with perfect penmanship.

Ms. Mara

As school went on, Eleanor learned remedial reading from the sweet old librarian, Mrs. Henderson, and her hand puppet, Dewey the Dolphin.

Eleanor didn't actually know what CCD stood for, but she had learned a long time ago never to complain about it. There was one time that back in Michigan, Eleanor hid in the bushes so she didn't have to go. Her mother called her name over and over, but she didn't say anything. 

Then, finally, mom got really mad and said, "Eleanor Judith Evans, you get out here... NOW."

Mom used her three names. And when she did that, there was no choice. You went. That's it. Game over. With a stone face, mom told her that Eleanor’s father was Catholic. And she had promised herself that his daughter would be raised Catholic, too. So Eleanor would have some connection to her father besides one picture at Christmas.

When they were driving home that night, Eleanor thought of her dad reading the Bible. Eleanor's dad probably didn't scramble his letters like Eleanor did. He was probably much smarter because that's what dads were supposed to be. Much smarter. 

So, Eleanor promised that she would learn to read and know what the Bible words meant, so she could have another way to be close to her dad besides the memory of the tobacco smell on his shirt.

As for going to a church, Eleanor’s mother's own faith died in the bathroom next to her husband. Of course, when she looked at her daughter, she understood why people still believe in God. 

But when she sat in church, she didn't hear God’s word. All she heard were whispers and gossip from all the good Catholic women who regarded her as that working-class mother (aka "trash").

Especially Mrs. Hansen. Everything about Laura Hansen was perfect. From her tight brown hair to her elegant suit to her polite contempt for "those people" Jesus would have actually loved. 

The Hansen family always sat up front. The Hansen family was always first in line for Holy Communion. And if her husband's hair slipped out of place, her finger would be there instantly to put it right back, like a raven's claw with a tasteful manicure.

As for their daughter, Jenny, the apple didn't fall too far from the tree.

If Sara Evans only had to deal with Mrs. Hansen on Sundays, it would have been tolerable. But Mr. Hansen was a real estate developer who owned half of Trail Grove, including Shady Pines, the retirement home where Sara worked. He put his wife in charge of the place. 

Mrs. Hansen claimed that she took the position to "give back to the community." What it really meant was that it allowed Mrs. Hansen to yell at the staff and the volunteers to make damn sure that her own elderly mother, who was suffering from Alzheimer's, got the finest care possible. The best room. The best food. The best of everything.

Sara has traveled enough to know that Damascus was a very small pond. But to the Hansen family, it may as well have been the Pacific Ocean.

“Mom, what are you thinking about?” Eleanor whispered. 

“Nothing, honey. Pay attention,” she said. 

Right before Father Tom turned the wine into blood with a few well-chosen words, he told the flock that Jesus loved everyone, beginning with Adam and Eve.

"First Holy Communion is going to be awesome," A kid said in the parking lot after church. "We get money. And we even get to drink wine."

"Really?" Eleanor asked. "Is that true, Mom?"

"It's part of Communion. But it'll be grape juice," she said.

On the drive home, Eleanor thought about mass. How Jesus loved everyone, even terrible people. Like Jenny Hansen and Larry. Eleanor thought that was amazing because she could never love someone like Larry. But she would try because that’s what you were supposed to do. 

When they got back to the motel, Eleanor held the door open for her mother, and mom smiled and called her a lady. And when she looked up before going inside, she saw it. Drifting. A shooting star looked like a twinkle in its eye. The cloud face. 

Normally, Eleanor wouldn’t have thought much about it. Clouds were normal. But every day when her mother drove her to school, every time they drove past the Blue Mist Woods. Every sunset when they drove to church. The cloud face was always there.

Sometimes big. Sometimes small. Once it was even hidden among the other shapes in the clouds. A banana or a snail or an ink blot like the ones the doctor showed her after her father accidentally drowned in the bathtub. It was always there. Not a man. Not a woman. Just a handsome pretty face made of clouds.The face was always there. 

And Eleanor could have sworn it was watching her. She would have told her mother that, but her mom had enough worries about her daughter already. She could stand her mother thinking she was being silly. But she didn’t dare risk her mother thinking that her daughter was crazy. Not like her dad.

The rain began on Friday. The sudden thunder woke Eleanor from a nightmare. The dream was too real that she couldn’t instantly forget. She couldn’t forget the feeling. Like someone was jabbing at her throat.

She looked around the motel room. The neon light from the laundromat outside turned on and off like a blink. But there was no one there. She looked at the clock next to her mother sleeping in the other twin bed. It flashed 2:17 a.m. 

She tried to go back to sleep. But she couldn’t for some reason. So, she just lay down with her eyes closed and her mind going. And listened to the pouring rain. 

There was so much rain, Eleanor thought it would overflow the whole ocean. Eleanor’s stomach tied itself into knots. She would be going to school in a few hours. 

School meant class. And class meant teasing. Every time, it waited for her. Being called names, rocks being thrown at her, bruises being collected on her skin. 

She once went to ask Ms. Mara if she could stay in her classroom for lunch. But Ms. Mara’s eyes were a little bloodshot and her breath smelled similar to Larry’s after a night at the bar. So, Eleanor waited until the end of the class, and went to the library. 

It was nice to see sweet old Mrs. Henderson.

Mrs. Henderson was mouse-quiet. Even for a librarian. She was married to the science teacher, Mr. Henderson. His first name was Henry. Eleanor thought it was so weird for teachers to have first names, but she went with it.

Henry Henderson. So many e's.

Eleanor asked her mom for new pants, but when she saw in her mom’s face that she couldn't afford them, Eleanor pretended that she was kidding.

Then, during lunch, he told the cafeteria lady that she didn't want milk, so she could save her fifty cents every day and buy pants on her own. Eleanor had already saved up $3.50. She just wasn't sure how much pants cost.

When Eleanor asked Mrs. Henderson how much pants cost, she said they could use the computer to look it up. Eleanor's mom didn't have her own computer, so this was a real treat. They went online and searched the word "pants". They looked at all these stores. And she saw that things were a lot of money. $18.15 for pants at JPenney.

"So, how many fifty cents is that?" she asked Mrs. Henderson.

"I don't know. How many?” she asked.

Eleanor was almost as bad at math as she was at reading. But like a good teacher, instead of giving her the answer, Mrs. Henderson gave a pencil and a piece of paper and told her to figure it out. She'd be back in a bit to check. 

So, Eleanor sat there, adding up 50 cents at a time. Two days is 100 cents.

That's a dollar. Three days is 150 cents. That's a dollar and fifty cents. With the seven dollars in her piggy bank, that meant she could...

hi

Eleanor looked at the computer. It made a little sound. And there was a little box in the left-hand corner. It said INSTANT MESSAGE. 

Someone was writing to her.

hi

Eleanor turned to look for Mrs. Henderson, but she was gone. Eleanor was all alone. She looked back at the screen. The cursor blinked and blinked. She knew she wasn't supposed to talk to strangers. But this wasn't talking, exactly.

So, she pecked with the pointer on her right hand. Peck peck.

"Hi," Eleanor typed back.

who is this?

"Eleanor."

hi, eleanor. it's so nice to meet you. where are you right now?

"I ma in teh library."

you have trouble with letters, huh? which library?

"At scohol."

which school do you go to? don't tell me. trail grove elementary, right?

"How did yuo konw?"

lucky guess. are you liking school?

"It's oaky."

when are you leaving for the day?

Eleanor stopped. Something felt wrong to her. She typed.

"Who is this?"

There was silence. The cursor blinked

"Who are you?" Eleanor typed again.

Silence again. Eleanor watched the cursor blink and blink. The air was still and quiet. But she could feel something. A tightness in the air. Like staying under the covers too long. 

"Hello?" Eleanor asked the empty library.

Eleanor looked around the stacks. She thought someone might be hiding.

She started to get a panicked feeling. Like back in Michigan when Larry would come home from the bar in a bad mood.

"Hello?" she called out again. "Who's there?"

She felt this prickle on the back of her neck. Like when her mom used to kiss her good night. A whisper without words. She heard the computer beep. She looked over. 

She saw the person's reply.

a friend

When Mrs. Henderson came back, the screen went blank. She looked at the math work and told Eleanor that she should ask Ms. Mara for help. 

In the meantime, she gave Eleanor three books for the weekend to help with her reading. There was an old book with a lot of words. Then, there were two fun books. Danger Dog Eats the Letter Z and a Snoopy. Snoopy was great. Especially with his cousin Spike from Needles. That word. Needles. So many e's.

When the bell rang, Mrs. Henderson walked Eleanor to the parking lot. Eleanor waved goodbye as she and her husband got in their old mini-van.

 Today was being flooded by the unstopping rain, Eleanor walked to the parking lot to get picked up by her mom.

Ms. Mara got in her red minivan, then one by one the students left. And the teachers. Then, the last buses left. When everyone was gone, Eleanor looked around for the security guard. But there wasn’t one. Eleanor was alone.

She sat down on the little bench and waited in the parking lot for her mother to come to pick her up for movie Friday. She tried to think about that instead of the bad feeling she was having. The feeling of being all alone. 

She picked up the first book. A Child's Garden of Verses.

It was old. Kind of dusty. Eleanor could feel the spine creak a little. The leather cover smelled a little like cotton. There was a name in the front cover. Written in pencil.

L.  arling

Eleanor turned the pages until she found a picture she liked. Then, she settled in and started reading. She was nervous waiting outside of school. And she just wanted her mom to get there early today. Where was she?

The thunder rumbled in the distance.

Eleanor closed the book. The birds went silent. And the air got chilly.

Even for September. She looked around to see if anyone was watching. But the security guard was still nowhere to be seen. So, Eleanor turned back to the cloud face.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" she asked.

There was a low rumble in the distance. A thunderclap.

Eleanor knew it could be a coincidence. She may have been a poor student, but she was a smart kid. "If you can hear me, blink your left eye." 

Slowly, the cloud blinked its left eye.

Eleanor went quiet. Scared for a moment. She knew it wasn't right. It wasn't normal. But it was amazing. A plane flew overhead, shifting the cloud face and making it smile like the Cheshire Cat.

"Can you make it rain when I ask you to?"

Before she got out the last word, sheets of rain began to pour over the parking lot.

"And make it stop?"

The rain stopped. Eleanor smiled. She thought it was funny. The cloud face must have understood she was laughing, because it started to rain. And then stop. And rain. 

And then stopped. 

Eleanor laughed. "Stop. You'll ruin my school clothes!"

The rain stopped. But when Eleanor looked up, the cloud started to drift away. Leaving her all alone again.

"Wait!" Eleanor called out. "Come back!"

The cloud drifted over the hills. Eleanor knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't help herself. She started walking after it. "Wait! Where are you going!"

There was no sound. Just sheets of rain. But somehow, it didn't touch Eleanor. She was protected by the eye of the storm. Even if her sneakers got soaked from the wet street. Her pink sweater remained dry.

"Please, don't leave!" she yelled out.

But the cloud face kept drifting. Down the road. To the baseball field. The rain trickling on the clay-caked dirt. Dust like tears. Down the highway where cars honked and skidded in the rain. Into another neighborhood with streets and houses he didn't recognize. Hays Road. Casa. Monterey.

The cloud face drifted over a fence and above a grass field. Eleanor finally stopped at a large metal sign on the fence near a streetlight.

GRIMIR CONSTRUCTION COMPANY

BLUE MIST WOODS PROJECT

NO TRESPASSING

"I can't follow you anymore. I'll get in trouble!" Eleanor called out.

The cloud face hovered for a moment, then drifted away. Off the road. Behind the fence. Eleanor didn't know what to do. She looked around. She saw that no one was watching. She knew it was wrong. She knew she wasn't supposed to. But Eleanor climbed under the construction site's fence. Snagging her little pink sweater. Once she untangled herself, she stood on the field, covered in wet grass and mud and rain. 

She looked up in awe. The cloud was HUGE. The smile was TEETH. A happy SMILE.

Eleanor smiled as the thunder clapped. And she followed the cloud face.

Am I dreaming?

That’s what the little girl thought when the car hit a speed bump and knocked her awake. She had the feeling of being cozy in bed, but suddenly needing to go to the bathroom. Her eyes squinted at the sun, and she looked out over the window. 

The girl rubbed her tired eyes and sat up in the passenger seat. She loved riding in the front seat when her mom drove. 

The girl looked over at her mother, framed by the morning sun. She watched her stub out her cigarette and light another instantly. Her mother only did that when she was worried. She was always worried when they moved. 

Maybe it will be different this time. That’s what she always said when Dad left. This time it would be different. Though it never was. And this time they were running.

Mom took a drag, the smoke curled up past the beads of sweat on her upper lip. She peered out over the steering wheel, deep in thought. It took her a full minute to realize that her daughter was awake. And then, she smiled. “Good Morning, honey,” she whispered. 

The girl didn’t care about mornings at all, but her mother did. “Gmorning Mom,” 

The little girl always called her Mom now. She stopped calling her Mommy three years earlier. It made her daughter feel strong. Strong like her dad in that birthday picture. The one picture she had. 

“You hungry, sweetheart?” Her mother asked. The girl nodded.

“There’s a rest stop right up the turnpike over the state line. I’m sure there’s a dinner there.”

“Will they have chocolate chip pancakes?” The girl remembered there was a diner under their apartment in the city. And the cook always gave them chocolate chip pancakes. 

 The girl looked back at the turnpike. The traffic slowed as they saw an ambulance and a station wagon. The emergency men wrapped a man’s bloody head with gauze. 

He looked like he cut his forehead and might be missing some teeth. 

When they drove a little farther, they could see the deer on the station wagon’s hood. The antler was still stuck in the windshield. The eyes of the deer were open. And it struggled and twitched like it didn’t know it was dying.

“Don’t look at it,” her mom said.

“Sorry,” whispered the little girl as she looked away.

Her mother didn’t like her daughter to see such things. She had seen them too much in her life. Especially since her father died. The little girl didn’t remember much about her father. Not even his voice. Just the smell of cologne and coffee on his shirt. That was it. 

She didn’t know anything about her father other than he must have been a great man because that’s what all fathers were supposed to be. Great men. 

“Mom?” The little girl asked. “Are you okay?” 

Her mother put on her best smile. But her face was afraid. Like it had been eight hours ago when she woke her up in the middle of the night and told her to pack her things.

 The little girl did as she was told. She threw everything that she had into a sleeping bag and her suitcase. 

When she tiptoed into the living room, she saw Larry, her stepfather, passed out on the sofa. For a scary moment, he almost woke up, but he didn’t. And soon, they got in the car. With the money in the glove compartment that Larry didn’t know about. Larry had taken everything else. In the quiet night, they drove away. For the first hour, her mother looked at the rearview mirror that she did the road. 

“Mom? Will he find us?” the little girl asked.

“No,” her mother said and lit another cigarette.

The little girl looked up at her mother, and in the morning light, she finally saw that her red cheek was not makeup. The little girl then looked out the window and saw an old billboard shaped like a keystone. The weathered sign said Virginia. 

And maybe her mother was right. Maybe it would be different this time, it was their third state in two years. Maybe this time, it will work out. Either way, she knew she could never let her mother down. Eleanor was six and a half years old.

They had been in Virginia for a week when it happened. 

Eleanor’s mother said she chose the little town of Damascus; it was simple, safe, and had a great elementary school. But deep down, Eleanor thought maybe she picked it because it seemed tucked away from the rest of the world. 

One highway in. One highway out. Surrounded by trees. 

They didn’t know anyone there. And if no one knew them, Larry couldn’t find them. Damascus was a great hiding place.

All her mother needed was a job. Every morning, Eleanor watched her mom put on lipstick and comb her hair all nice. And her mother put on her smart-looking blazer.

  After Eleanor ate her Coco Puffs, her mother took her over to the public library to pick out her book for the day while her mom looked over the wanted ads in the paper.

Once Mom had written down a few promising leads, they would climb back in the car and drive around to different interviews. 

Mom told Eleanor that she wanted her to come along so they could have an adventure. Just the two of them. The truth was that there was no money for a babysitter, but Eleanor didn’t care because she was with her mom.

“The Elementary School is really nice.” Her mother said. “They have a computer lab and everything. You’re going to like it.” No matter where they lived, Eleanor’s mother hunted for great public schools the way other moms hunted for bargains on clothes. 

And this time, her mom said, Eleanor would have the best. 

The motel was near a great school district. Eleanor’s mother promised to drive her every day so she wouldn’t be called a “motel kid” until her mother saved enough to get them an apartment. And it was okay that Eleanor struggled. This was going to be the grade when she’d be better at math. This was the year that all of her hard work would pay off. And Eleanor smiled and believed her mother because she believed in her daughter. 

Then, when her mother got to each interview, she would take her own private moment and say some words she read in her self improvement books because she was trying to believe in herself too, “You decide this is your job. Not them.” When she was finally confident, she and her daughter went into the building.

Eleanor would sit in the waiting rooms and read her storybook like her mother wanted, and Eleanor’s mind would wander. She missed her old home. If it weren’t for Larry, she would have loved to stay in her childhood home forever. The kids there were nice, and everyone was poor, so nobody knew it. 

After each interview was over, Eleanor’s mother would come out with a shaken look on her face that acknowledged that it really was their decision to hire her. Not hers. 

But there was nothing to do but climb back in the car and try again. On the third day, Eleanor’s mother pulled into the middle of town. Normally, Eleanor had to go into the waiting room to read her book. 

But on that third day, there was a sheriff and his deputy sitting across the street in the parking lot. Her mother called out to them and asked if they were going to be there for a while. They gave her a salute and said they’d keep an eye on her daughter. 

So, as a reward for her reading, she let Eleanor in the little park while she went into the old building to interview for a job. “If you need anything, call out to the sheriff.”

Eleanor went to the swings. There was a little ladybug on the seat. She knew that other kids would have smushed it. But Eleanor felt bad when people killed small things. So, she got a leaf and put the ladybug under a tree where it would be safe. Then, she got back on the swings and started to pull.

As she began to swing, she looked up at the clouds. There were dozens of them, they all had different shapes. There was one that looked like a dog, a fish, and a turtle.

But there was one cloud that was more beautiful than all the rest.

The one that looked like a face. Not a man. Not a woman. Just a handsome pretty face made of clouds. And it was smiling at her.

After ten minutes of swinging, her mother came out of the building. But this time, there was no shaken look. There was only a big smile. 

“Did you get the job?” Eleanor asked. 

“We’re having ice cream tonight.” Her mother answered. 

After she thanked the sheriff for his help, she got her daughter back in the land shark and took her out for Movie Night. Friday was their night. She wouldn't miss it. Not for anything, And this was going to be the best one in a long time. 

No Larry. Just their special club with only two members. Junk food. And old movies from the library.

So, they drove to the 7-Eleven to play her numbers like they did every Friday.

After picking up some beer, they went back to the library to get Eleanor her two practice books for the weekend and a couple of videos for their night. Why do people pay for things that are free? 

They went to China Gate like the sheriff said since cops know food better than anyone, and she gasped when she saw the prices, but tried her best to hide her expression from Eleanor. Then, she smiled.

She said she had a little left on the Visa that Larry didn't know about, and in a week, she'd have a paycheck. And as they drove back to the motel, with the smell of Egg Rolls and Orange Chicken and Eleanor's Favorite Lo Mein (Chinese Spaghetti you like! said the menu), they planned what they would do with the lottery money like they did every Friday before they lost.

Eleanor said she would buy her mother a house. She even drew blueprint plans with crayons and graph paper. Eleanor drew video games and a candy room. A pool room and a petting zoo off the kitchen. All painstakingly planned. But the best room was her mom's. It was the biggest one in the house. It had a balcony with a diving board that went to her own private pool. And it had the biggest closet with the nicest clothes that weren't ripped.

"What would you do with the money, Mom?" she asked.

"I'd get you a tutor and all the books in the world."

"Mine is better," Eleanor said.

When they got home, the mini fridge in the motel room wasn't working too well, so her mother’s beer was not getting cold in time for their feast. So, as her mother watched the lottery on the little television, Eleanor went to the ice maker down the hall. And Eleanor did the thing she learned from the old movies they watched. She got some ice and poured her beer over it to make it cold for her.

"Here, Mom. On the rocks."

Eleanor didn't know why she laughed so hard, but she was glad to see her mother so happy.

Eleanor's mother sipped her beer on the rocks, and made yum yum sounds until her daughter beamed with pride for her clever—if somewhat misguided-solution to her warm beer problem.

~

After her lottery numbers came up short... AGAIN... She tore up the lottery ticket and put a DVD in the old player she got at a garage sale back in Virginia. The first movie started. It was an old musical she loved as a kid. One of her few good memories. Now one of Eleanor’s. When their feast was done, and the Von Trapps were safely in Switzerland, they opened their fortune cookies.

"What's yours say, Mom?" Eleanor asked.

"You will be fortunate in everything you put your hands on." ...in bed, she thought and did not say."What about yours, honey?" she asked.

"Mine is blank."

She looked. Eleanor’s fortune was indeed blank except for a series of numbers. 

She looked so disappointed. The cookies were bad enough. But no fortune?

"This is actually good luck," she said.

"Really?"

"No fortune is the best fortune. Now you get to make up your own. Wanna trade?"

Eleanor thought about it long and hard and said, "No."

With negotiations over, it was time for the second movie. Before the film had finished, and the good guys had won the war, Eleanor had fallen asleep on her mother’s lap. She sat there for a long time, looking down at her daughter sleeping. She thought back to the Friday Night Movies when they watched Dracula, and Eleanor pretended she wasn't scared even though she would only wear turtleneck sweaters for a month. 

There is a moment childhood ends, she thought. And she wanted her daughter’s moment to happen a long time from now. She wanted her daughter to be smart enough to get out of this nightmare, but not smart enough to know that she was actually inside of one. 

She picked up her sleeping girl and took her to her motel bed. She kissed her daughter’s forehead and instinctively checked to make sure she didn’t have a fever. Then she went back to the kitchenette. 

When she finished her beer, she opened another. Because she realized she was going to remember this night. The night she stopped running. It had been three years. 

Three years since she found her husband dead in the bathroom with a lot of blood and no note. Five years of grief and rage and behavior that fell out of a body. But enough was enough.

Stop running. Stop smoking. Stop it all. Your kid deserves better. So do you. 

No more debt. No more bad men. Just the peace of a life well spent.

A parent with a job is a hero to someone. Even if that job was cleaning up after people in an old building. Eleanor’s mother took her beer out on the fire escape. She felt the cool breeze.

13 Years Before…

Do you know where you are?

The little boy knew he was in trouble. The minute his stepmother got back with Dad, he was going to get it. His only hope was the pillow stuffed under his blanket, which made it look like he was still in bed. They did that on TV shows.

But none of that mattered now. He had snuck out of his bedroom and climbed down the ivy and slipped and hurt his foot. But it wasn't too bad. Not like at school playing football. This wasn't too bad.

The little boy hobbled down the road. The mist in his face. The fog settling in down the hill. He looked up at the moon. It was full. The second night it had been full in a row. 

A blue moon. That's what his mother told him. Like the song that Mom danced to sometimes. Back when they were happy. Back before the little boy made her afraid.

Blue Moon. I saw you standing alone.

The little boy heard something in the bushes. For a second, he thought it might be another one of those dreams. But it wasn't. He knew it wasn't.

He forced himself to stay awake. Even with his headaches. He had to get there tonight.

A car drove past, bathing the fog in headlight. The little boy hid behind a mailbox as rock 'n' roll poured from the old Ford Mustang. A couple of the teenagers laughed. A lot of kids were being drafted into the army, and drunk driving was on the rise. That's what his dad said anyway.

A voice whispered. Hisspered. Hisss.

Did someone say it? Or did he just hear it?

"Who's there?" The little boy whispered.

Silence.

It must have been in his head. That was okay. At least it wasn't the hissing lady. 

At least he wasn't dreaming. Or was he?

The little boy looked down the hill at the street corner with the big streetlight. The teenagers passed it, taking all the sound with them. That's when the little boy saw the shadow of a person. A figure stood in the middle of the pool of streetlights. Waiting and whistling. Whistling and waiting. A song that sounded a little like

Blue Moon.

The hairs on the back of the boy's neck stood up.

Don't go near that corner. Stay away from that person.

The little boy cut through the yards instead. He tiptoed over an old fence. 

Don't let them hear you. Or see you. You're off the street. It's dangerous. 

He looked up in a window where a babysitter was making out with her boyfriend while the baby cried. But it sounded like a cat. He was still sure he wasn't dreaming, but it was getting harder and harder to tell anymore. 

He climbed under the fence and got wet grass stains on his pajama bottoms. He knew he couldn't hide them from his mom. He would have to wash them himself. Like how he was starting to wet the bed again. He washed the sheets every morning. He couldn't let his mother know. She would ask questions. Questions he could not answer. Not out loud.

He moved through the little woods behind the house. 

The whisper was louder now. He looked back. There was no one around. He peeked back past the houses to the streetlight. The shadow person was gone.

The figure could be anywhere. It could be right behind him. 

Oh, please don't let it be the hissing lady. Please don't let me be asleep.

Crack.

The twig snapped behind him. The little boy forgot about his hurt foot and ran. He cut through the lawn down onto the corner and turned left. He could hear dogs panting. Getting closer. But there were no dogs.

It was just sounds. Like the dreams. Like the cat baby crying. They were running after him. So, he ran faster. His little shoes hitting the wet pavement. Smack smack smack.

When he finally got to the corner of the road, he turned right. He ran in the middle of the street. Like a raft on a river. Don't leave the street. They can't get you if you're on the street. He could hear the noises on either side. Little hisses. And dogs panting. And licking. And baby cats. And those whispers.

"Get out of the street. You'll get hurt. Come to the lawn where it's safe."

The voice was the hissing lady. He knew it. She always had a nice voice at first.

Like a substitute teacher trying too hard. But when you looked at her, she wasn't nice anymore. She turned to teeth and a hissing mouth. Worse than the Wicked Witch. Worse than anything. Four legs like a dog. Or a long neck like a giraffe. 

Hssss

"Your mother hurt her feet. They're all cut up. Come and help me." The hissing Lady was using his mom's voice now. No fair. But she did that.

She could even look like her. The first time, it had worked. He went over to her on the lawn. And she grabbed him. He didn't sleep for two days after that.

When she took him to the house with the basement. And that oven.

"Help your mother, you little shit." His grandma's voice now. But not his grandma. 

He could feel the hissing lady's white teeth. 

Don't look at them. Just keep looking ahead. Keep running. Get to the cul-de-sac. 

You can make her go away forever. Get to the last streetlight.

The little boy looked ahead to the last streetlight in the cul-de-sac. And then,

he stopped. The shadow person was back.

The figure stood in the middle of the pool of streetlight. Waiting and whistling. Whistling and waiting. Dream or no dream, this was bad. But the little boy could not stop now. It was all up to him. He was going to have to walk past the streetlight person to get to the meeting place.

Hilliiissssssssss

The hissing lady was closer behind him. The boy suddenly felt cold. His pajamas damp. Even with the overcoat. Just keep walking. That's all he could do. Be brave like a soldier. Be brave like the teenagers being drafted. Be brave and keep walking. One little step. Two little steps.

"Hello?" said the little boy.

The figure said nothing. The figure did not move. Just breathed in and out,

its breath making clouds.

"Hello? Who are you?" The boy asked.

Silence. The world holding its breath. The little boy put a little toe into

the pool of light. The figure stirred. "I'm sorry, but I need to pass. Is that okay?"

Again there was silence. The little boy inched his toe into the light. The figure began to turn. The boy thought about going back home, but he had to finish. It was the only way to stop her. He put his whole foot into the light. The figure turned again. A statue waking up. His whole leg. Another turn. 

Finally, the boy couldn't take it, and he entered the light. The figure ran at him. Moaning. Its arm reaching out. The boy ran through the circle. The figure behind him. Screaming. 

The boy felt its long nails reaching, and just as it was going to grab his hair. The boy slid on the hard pavement like in baseball. He tore up his knee, but it didn't matter. 

He was out of the light. The figure stopped moving. The boy was at the end of the street. The cul-de-sac with the log cabin and the newlywed couple. The little boy looked off the road. The night was silent. Some crickets. A little bit of fog that lit the path to the trees. 

So I want to learn how to post my original story on Tumblr and I’ll have to learn how to do that properly.

But I still wonder if anyone would be interested in reading it. It’s called “My Weird Friend” and today I wrote 451 pages so far.

It’s still a work in progress but it’s not finished yet. But I plan to make it into a graphic novel one day in the future.

“Eleanor walked over and hugged Mr. Star, who flinched at being touched.

It reminded Eleanor of soldiers who listen to fireworks and can only hear bullets.”