I looked up to see a taller, older girl, maybe nine or ten, standing over me. She was also wearing a dress, but her reddish-brown, shoulder-length hair and harsh scowl made her look like an old woman.

  "You scared the life out of me!" I scrambled to my feet, dusting off my slacks. "I thought I was, my pills—Never mind."

  The older girl stepped toward me. "Is he going to take us away?"

  I didn't know how to answer that. "I can help you find your parents."

  The girl's face hardened. She was a scary little thing. I was relieved when she took the little girl by the wrist. "You both will get the belt," she snarled at me.

  The one she called Turtle stopped and turned, locking eyes with her sister. "Grace, I don't feel good."

  "What's the matter?" her sister asked.

  Turtle freed her wrist from Grace's and turned to me. "My tummy hurts."

  Her expression was heartbreaking. Pouty lips and tears had never swayed me, but I could tell she didn't feel well. I couldn't help but want to help her.

  "Of course, sweetheart. Where's your mama?"

  Turtle became upset. "My tummy hurts."

  "Try it again, honey!" shrieked Grace.

  "Will you stop being a pest? I'm trying to help. Where is your mother?"

  "This doesn't taste good" cried the youngest.

  I knelt down. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll help you and your sister find your mother. Do you live around here?"

  Grace crossed her arms. "This is our house."

  I acknowledged Grace, softening my tone, "You're just lost because it's dark. I'm sure you live around here somewhere. Let's go knock on the neighbor's door."

  I knew we wouldn’t be received well, but I had to try. "Well, we’ll just give it a try, okay?" I took Turtle's hand. "Oh my gosh, how long have you kids been out here? You're freezing."

  "My tummy hurts."

  We walked across the street to Amy's house, and I steadied myself against their door frame. I wasn't supposed to be outside, but there had to be exceptions to the rule.

  The TV was on. I couldn't place the show, but the voices were familiar. Laughter rang out from the TV and the Tippett family.

  I knocked.

  Hurried steps rustled across the floor and the TV switched off. Except for the wind, it was now quiet.

  I knocked again, and there were gasps from the other side, and a woman's voice said, "What do we do, Thad?"

  "Mrs. Judy? Amy?"

  "What do we do?"

  "Quiet!" Mr. Thad ordered.

  Calling through the door again, "Hello? It's Matt. There are two lost children out here. I'm wondering if you could help me find out where they live."

  "Mr. Christian?" His voice was closer to the door.

  "Yes, the new teacher."

  "Mr. Christian, get back to your house!"

  "There are two lost children here."

  "Get away from them. Run! Run!"

  I jerked back to the space where Grace and Turtle had stood.

  I scanned the yard and street for them, but the girls were nowhere to be seen.

  A nervous chuckle escaped me, but when the lights inside Amy's house were cut off, my laugh dissipated into a despairing whimper. The girls and the light, vanished like it was all a cruel joke. Everyone was gone, leaving me all alone in the dark.

  I bit my lip and closed my eyes. I was a crazy addict, and the whole town would know it by tomorrow. The truth of this made my mouth water as my stomach soured. I wanted to crumble to the ground, but I had to get back to my house.

  "I'm sorry," I called inside. "I was mistaken. There is no one here."

  I waited, but there was no response.

  "Please don't tell anyone." I rested my head against their door. "Please don't."

  The chilled air swirled around the valley. My arms hugged my body attempting to keep me warm. I slowly left their porch and labored over their lawn. The wind picked up in harsh gusts. I turned my head, trying to shield my face, but it was pointless.

  Eyes.

  Eyes were on me, numerous sets of eyes.

  I imagined Amy's whole family watching me as I lumbered across the street. Mr. Thad had probably already called the sheriff. Someone was probably calling Franklin as well.

  More and more eyes. The other neighbors must have heard the screams.

  I stumbled and fell in the street. Tears rolled from my eyes.

  With every stare, what I wanted so desperately, the job, the house, food, running water, were being dropped onto a table like coins in my pockets. Everything would be examined. I was a criminal. They would find out. Someone would make calls, and someone would find out who the new stranger was. They would find out I was an addict.

  I wanted to run, leave Middwood like I had Atlanta, but I had no car. Without that, I was stuck here. I would have to deal with this. But not tonight, as exposed as I was in the open. The town rules finally worked in my favor. I'd be safe and left alone until morning. For the rest of the night, I could do what I so desperately needed, sleep.

  I bounded up the porch, batted the door shut, and ran upstairs.

  Crash!

  The bloodwood door swung open.

  * * *

  The weighted impact sent me cowering into a protective ball.

  I froze, staring out into the darkness.

  Freezing gusts poured in. It was only the wind. That's what I told myself, but my mind resisted. I had shut the door and bloodwood was one of the heaviest woods there was.

  I thought back. I was emotional when I came in, and I wasn't thinking straight. I didn't shut the door all the way. I laughed. It was the drugs. Everything that happened was drug induced. I knew I'd gone outside tonight. I could tell by my cold toes and dirt on my feet, but nothing else was. There were never any girls.

  I relaxed and rolled my hips to a sitting position at the top of the stairs. I shook my head at my foolishness. It was time I gave up the pills.

  The porch boards creaked.

  I looked up.

  The girls were standing in the doorway.

  40

  My brain reeled. I didn't know what to do, so I stood up.

  The girls were silent. My eyes fluttered as my blood pressure spiked.

  Part of me wanted to make a break for the Tomb, but I couldn't. For whatever reason, I couldn't.

  "You two came back."

  They were silent.

  I had to be realistic. There was a high chance none of this was happening. I was an addict, and my mind was punishing me for what happened with Darlene. However, in the slim chance they were real, regardless of the town rules, it was my job to help children. Besides, they were in my house, and they needed to be somewhere else.

  I cautiously moved down the stairs.

  "Grace, I don't feel so good," pouted Turtle.

  "I know. You told me that earlier. I don't feel so good either."

  "What's the matter?"

  I froze. They were repeating our previous conversation.

  The youngest kept her eyes locked on me. "My tummy hurts."

  I rubbed away the gooseflesh on my arms. "Who are you?"

  "My tummy hurts." Turtle repeated.

  I nodded. "I will help you."

  The two small girls weren't staring, more like watching me. I didn't feel threatened.

  My head was swimming, but two small children needed help.

  "I'll tell you what, you two stay out here and wait while I call the sheriff. The phone is in the kitchen," my voice shook as I side-stepped through the opening. They followed me in.

  I walked into the kitchen and, as I picked up the receiver, the front door slammed.

  "Shit!" I turned to the door. The girls were standing next to the refrigerator. "Jesus!" I took a breath. "Sorry." We exchanged stares. "The door, it scared me. Sorry for swearing." In silence, we watched each other as I dialed the first few numbers with trembling hands. "He's big, but I think he's a nice guy."

  The girls said nothing as they stood there, side-by-side, holding hands. There were so many thoughts going through my head, but I pushed through all of the chaos to focus on getting them out of my house. That's what I told myself over and over as my heart rate increased.

  Holding her stomach, Turtle repeated, "Grace, I don't feel so good." She dry-heaved, and I dropped the phone and grabbed a towel.

  "She doesn't like it," growled Grace.

  Turtle cried, "I don't want anymore."

  I knelt down to help Turtle.

  Grace grabbed my arm. "She doesn't like it!"

  Turtle started throwing up thick, white globs.

  "What are you doing? Your sister is sick!"

  Her grip grew in strength to double that of mine.

  She stepped closer. "She doesn't like it." Grace's eyes, changed from brown to a dull, milky gray. Her face transformed from smooth tan to that of a bloated, milky corpse. "You both will get the belt, do you understand!"

  She threw me, and I slid across the floor, stopping against the cabinets, hitting my head. I was dazed, but I saw her coming toward me with outstretched arms and pale blue fingers.

  I pushed and kicked away from her, but I was trapped.

  The cerulean veins in her neck and around her eyes pulsed. "Be the big sister and show her how to do it."

  Her face slowly contorted into a dull show of pain. Her head tilted sharply to the right. A low rumble came from her belly. She stood straight up, throwing back her head. She shook her upper body back and forth like she was trying to control the pain. She grabbed her stomach, wrenching her clasped hands into her abdomen.

  There was a brief silence.

  I could only hear my teeth clenching.

  There were gurgles of moving bile.

  My own throat constricted.

  She lurched toward me, her spine curled forward. She opened her mouth and she dumped her stomach's contents on me.

  Both girls projected chunky, oatmealy bile.

  I raised my hands to shield my face, but it covered me. Its heat and grainy stench assaulted my senses.

  "Stop it!" I gagged.

  The dangling phone filled the kitchen with a blaring busy signal.

  They were gone.

  I looked down, and the puke was gone.

  I was shaking, in a fetal position in a corner on the kitchen floor. Slowly, my quaking and retching subsided into coughs. Although I could still smell the puke in my nose, there was nothing on me.

  The buzzing from the phone continued.

  I sat up.

  My head was ringing. I ran my fingers through my hair to the back of my head. When I brought my hand forward it was covered with blood. Another unseen scar that my long hair would hide.

  I leaned back against the cabinets. Something was building in me. It was growing from deep down in the pit of my gut. My body moved as it went up through my stomach and chest. I thought I was going to throw up, but instead, it was like a low sob. I bellowed like an animal.

  I had finally lost it.

  41

  Thursday, November 5, 1964

  Sunrise 7:01 am. Sunset 5:32 pm.

  * * *

  I didn't sleep well. I couldn't. I was afraid if I did the two little ghoul girls would appear. When I closed my eyes I could see the pale, busted, veiny faces that housed their cold, milky gaze.

  I staggered to turn on the light switch. I read my watch. It was already after nine. I pictured the entire town gathered with pitch axes and shovels outside in my yard. If I had a window I could have checked, I thought.

  I crept down the stairs into the living room and peeked through the shutters. There was no one outside. I furrowed my brow. How...? I stopped myself. I decided to be grateful and not ask questions. Besides, there was a chance none of it happened.

  Running out the door, I stopped myself and thought, Screw it. I'll skip breakfast, but I'm not leaving without my coffee. Caffeine was the only way I could get through the day. I was out of milk, but after the previous night's illusions, I didn't care if I was out of anything that resembled vomit.

  "Matt!" Franklin shouted.

  "Fuck the cow!

  * * *

  Good grief, Frank! You scared the shit out of me."

  "Well, you scared the shit out of me. Are you all right?"

  I turned my chin. What was he asking me about? I thought. Dread built behind my eyes. No, I pleaded, please don't be here about last night.

  "Last night, the children. Are you all right?"

  So I had gone out last night. I figured that part was real, even though I tried to convince myself it wasn’t. I wasn't sure what I should say. "Yes, I'm fine."

  "Thad called Philip, and, of course, Philip called me—"

  The feeling of being watched while crossing the street had been real, too. I didn't like where this was going. "It's a tight-knit town. You said that yourself."

  "Matt, what happened?"

  Oh God, I thought. What? What? What was real? What was the drugs? If I said the wrong thing, it would make matters worse. "To be honest, Franklin... I'm not sure what happened."

  Franklin nodded with great concern. "Thad said you knocked on his door saying two children were lost."

  "Yeah, I don't really remember."

  "You don't remember?"

  "Sorry, it's kinda foggy. I couldn't sleep so I took something. Whatever happened, I wasn't myself."

  "A sleeping pill?"

  I lied. "Yeah. I had one left that a doctor gave me when my father died. I forgot I had it, but I had a headache last night, so I got up to take a Bufferin... and I found it, and I took it."

  "Matt, last night you had a run-in with the ghost children."

  I paused, staring at him blankly. "The who?"

  * * *

  "The ghost children."

  "The ghost children?" I repeated, giving myself time to think of what to say. Franklin was trying to trick me. I must have said something about ghost children to Thad, but I didn't remember that part. However, the neighbors saw me fall in the street. They knew I was wasted and they sent Franklin to get me to confess. All I had to do was tell the truth. "Like I said, Frank, I could have been attacked by a werewolf and I wouldn't have known. Besides, going out after dark is against the town's rules."

  "Matt, other neighbors saw you, too."

  "Did they see anyone else with me?"

  "No."

  I shrugged. "Hmm?"

  "Matt, this is serious."

  "I don't know, Frank. What do you want me to say? I'm sure everything is fine." I put my hands on his shoulders. "Look, regardless, I only had one pill, and thank goodness it's gone now."

  He stared at me.

  "Wow, that thing must have really sent me for a loop. I can tell, I'm not used to taking medication." I continued to nod.

  All I needed was doubt.

  Franklin looked at the ground. That was my cue. "The pill made it hard for me to wake up. "I'm late for school. Do you need me to stay? I don't want to keep the kids waiting."

  "Sure, sure."

  I walked away.

  "But we do need to talk. There have been lots of discussions."

  I kept walking. "Sure thing, Frank. Thank you. Have a great day."

  Jesus Christ, it actually worked. I didn't think I would be able to get away with that.

  "But, Mr. Christian, Jason is looooking at meee!"

  I held my hands over my ears, knocking the stick of chalk off my desk. I had a massive headache, and Franklin's visit had robbed me of going back inside to make my morning coffee. "Scarlet, if you don't stop whining I'm going to feed you to the cows."

  Her nails-on-a-chalkboard voice cut through my brain, "We don't have cows around here."

  "Then I'll throw you down a coal mine."

  Amy gasped. "Mr. Christian!"

  "Amy, I'm only kidding." I then gestured to Scarlet. "Relax. How will you work in the coal mine if you can't read?"

  "Girls, can't work at a mine. It's bad luck," Scarlet pouted.

  I rolled my eyes. "Luck, rules, bah!"

  Carla sauntered up to my desk, picked up the piece of chalk for me, and then joyfully sat back down. I cringed. She looked to be about the same age as the older girl from my hallucinations. She and Grace were the same height, same little-girl build, and even the same hair color and length. Carla's face was innocent and hopeful, but Grace's expression had been hard, with a bitter distrust I had only seen in older people who had been dealt a lousy hand. My brain must have concocted the mental image of Grace from Carla. It was all about my mind working through what happened with Darlene, the girl I'd assaulted.

  I shuddered, figments of the imagination didn't typically have names.

  My heart beat faster. Last night was not real. Of course, it wasn't, I reaffirmed to myself. Regardless, my cheeks flushed. I lowered my head and rubbed my face under my glasses. I let out a deep, hot breath.

  I glanced up. Grace was standing in front of my desk. Horrifically pale with that bluish hue, her skin was bloated and busted. She glared at me with dead eyes hidden behind thick fluid. She leaned in. "Are you okay, Mr. Christian?"

  I yelped and so did someone else in the class.

  "Are you okay, mister?"

  I blinked. There was no one there. I jerked my head to Carla who was in her seat with a frightened, concerned look. I looked back to the nothing in front of me, then back at her.

  I let out a short, absurd laugh. "Sorry, Carla. I know that was... I haven't been sleeping well. I think I dozed off."

  "You okay, Christian?" Peter asked quietly as he moved to my desk.

  Turning to the twins, I noticed their eyes. They were wide and shocked. Their hands clenched each other’s arms like their lives depended on it. Their little chests were heaving.

  "Did you see it, too?" I begged them both, but they remained quiet in their terror.

  "Christian?"

  "It’s all right," I grumbled, waving Peter off. "I just had a bad dream."

  "But, Mr. Christian," Carla said, squirming in her seat. "I didn't notice you falling asleep."

  "Stop watching me so much."

  Peter flipped out one of his tucked hands, then recrossed his arms. "We just care—"

 

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