Twisted Little Things and Other Stories (3 page)

Despite my frustration, I couldn't help but smile.

“Oh, you have, huh?”

“All my life.”

“Did someone put you up to this?” I asked skeptically. “I don't quite get how you could've organized it all, but do you happen to know a guy named Jimmy Wade? Did he hire you to freak me out and piss me off?”

She paused, before taking a step back.

“Leave,” she said after a moment. “If you're not going to listen to me, then get out of here, but promise me one thing. Promise you'll get rid of them. Even if you think every word I've told you is a lie, you have to destroy them. If they're really just two tatty old wooden toys, then what harm can it do to throw them onto the fire?”

I turned to call Lucas, but suddenly I saw that he'd already followed me and was wagging his tail as he approached. For the first time in several days, he wasn't whimpering or whining, and he no longer seemed tormented by the scent of a lady dog. After a moment, I saw that he had something in his mouth, and I crouched down to take it from him.

A tree root.

He'd spent all that time digging, just for a dirty old tree root, and now he seemed completely happy and content. His tail was wagging like crazy, and he seemed immensely proud of his discovery.

“What the hell, Lucas?” I muttered, turning the root over. “Why were you so desperate for this thing?”

“Different creatures pick up on different things,” Allie suggested. “Just because you don't see the qualities of that root, don't assume that he can't.”

“What qualities?” I asked, with an exasperated smile. “It's
just
a root.”

“Not to him.”

Sighing, I began to realize the point she was laboring so desperately.

“So are you picking up mystical cosmic waves from the tree root?” I asked, unable to hide my sarcasm.

“I'm not,” she said, reaching down and patting Lucas on the back of the neck, “but that doesn't mean
he's
not detecting something. I'm just not so arrogant that I dismiss the intuition of others.”

I began to laugh.

“Tell me,” she continued, “do you always laugh in the face of mortal danger?”

“I should go,” I told her. “Seriously -”

“Is that your way of hiding your fear?”

“Fear?” I sighed. “Lady, there's nothing to be scared of here! There's just a tree root, and a pair of stupid old wooden toys, and a hippy with an inflated ego. And some crappy wind chimes.”

“You need to deal with the warning signs before it's too late,” she continued, with increased urgency in her voice. “Those statues are not a joke. You shouldn't laugh at dark things. If you take the warnings seriously instead of laughing at them, it's usually possible to keep yourself safe. But if you insist on -”

“Fine!” I said firmly, letting Lucas take the root in his mouth again, before getting to my feet. “I get it. I see where you're coming from, but I think it's best if I just get going now. I'm sorry my dog came and dug up your yard, or the space next to where you've parked your trailer, or whatever the hell this place is. Please, if you have any further opinions about anything I might have in my car, I'd appreciate it if you could just keep them to yourself! Thank you!”

With that, I led Lucas back to the car and loaded him onto the back seat, before climbing in the front and starting the engine. That crazy Allie woman had really pissed me off, and I was starting to wish that I'd kept the soldiers with me so that I'd have been able to show her that they really
were
just lumps of wood. At the same time, I figured that once I got home I'd just hide them away somewhere until I got a chance to mail them back to the guy in Wisconsin.

The damn things had already caused enough drama since I'd picked them up. In fact, I was starting to think that maybe I
should
just dump them, to get them out of the way. If I'd had them in the car with me as I drove home that afternoon, I probably would have tossed them out the window.

And if I'd done that, I'd still have my family today.

Five

“Okay buddy,” I said to Lucas as I let him out of the car. “Go to the yard. And no more whimpering!”

Calmly making his way across the driveway, he headed to his favorite spot near the door and settled down in a patch of shade. Already, on the drive home, I'd seen that he was completely calm again, as if digging up that dumb tree root had helped him get rid of all his anxiety and concern. He was like a different dog.

Heading over to the box of books, I leaned down to pick them up, before realizing that there was no sign of the wooden soldiers.

I looked around, but they were definitely gone. A moment later, however, I felt a faint kick of concern in my gut as I saw that Lucy was playing with them on the ground, next to the garden fence. My initial instinct was to call for her to come over, but I quickly realized that I was in danger of letting that dumb Allie woman's words get to me. All day, those stupid little soldiers had been freaking people out, and I'd actually started believing that there might be something weird about them, so instead I made my way over and watched as Lucy played.

“Hey,” I said after a moment. “Having fun there?”

I waited, but she didn't reply. She didn't even seem to have noticed me.

“Lucy,” I continued, “did you see that Lucas is back?”

Again I waited, but again she seemed completely fixated on the toys.

“Hey!” Leaning down, I clicked my fingers near her face, and finally she turned and looked up at me with a strangely blank expression, almost as if she'd just woken up.

“Are you okay there?” I asked. “I guess I should've known better than to leave those things out, huh?”

She paused, before looking back down at the soldiers.

“You realize they're just little lumps of wood, right?” I continued, glancing over at the expensive toys we'd bought for her most recent birthday. “Are you going old-school on me all of a sudden?”

“I like them,” she replied quietly, her voice barely rising above a mumbled whisper.

“They don't have lights or gadgets.”

“But I
like
them.”

“You do, huh?”

I waited for a reply, but she seemed to have sunk back into a state of intense concentration, as if the toys were consuming her thoughts.

“Well, don't break them,” I told her, “and don't get too attached. I have to send them off to a man soon, but I guess you can play with them for now. Okay?”

Again I waited for a reply, before turning and carrying the box of books to the front door. I couldn't shake the feeling that it was weird to leave my kid playing with toys from a serial killer's basement, but I quickly told myself I was being paranoid. The last thing I wanted was to give in to superstitious nonsense, and as I reached the door I couldn't help glancing back and seeing that Lucy was playing happily. I felt a faint shudder pass through my body, although I quickly put any concerns out of my mind.

“I've got your books!” I called out as I headed inside. “Straight from Jimmy's personal library!”

Making my way into the kitchen, I set the box on the counter.

“I doubt there's much high literature in here,” I continued, opening the top of the box and looking inside. “I think most of these are actually TV tie-ins from the eighties. Three
Street Hawk
novels, some
A-Team
and
Airwolf
...
Manimal
...”

When she failed to reply, I turned and saw she was standing at the window, staring out at the driveway with a worried frown.

“Did you hear a word I just said?” I asked, forcing a smile. “Honey?”

When she failed to reply, I made my way over and touched her arm, and finally she turned to me.

“Katie,” I continued, “are you okay?”

She swallowed hard, but after a moment I saw a long scratch running down one side of her face, from next to her eye all the way to her chin.

“What happened?” I asked. “That looks deep.”

“Where did those wooden soldiers come from?”

“The...” I paused for a moment, trying to ignore the unsettled sensation in my gut. “The ones Lucy's playing with right now? It's kind of a long story, honey. I really don't want to get into it right now, but let's just say that -”

“I don't want her to have them.”

“Well, to be honest, that's fine. I have to mail them to a -”

“Can you take them away from her?”

“But -”

“Now, Michael? Please.”

I frowned. “Is there a problem?”

“I tried,” she continued, “but...” Her voice trailed off for a moment. “I tried to take them away from her, but she...” She paused, before reaching up and touching the scratch on the side of her face.

“Did Lucy do that to you?” I asked cautiously.

“It was an accident. She didn't mean to hurt me.”

“Lucy scratched your face?”

“She just...”

Pausing, she once again seemed lost in thought. After a moment, however, she started muttering to herself, although her voice was too quiet for me to hear what she was saying.

“Katie,” I said finally, “are you sure the -”

“I don't want them around,” she said suddenly, rubbing her shoulders and then starting to scratch either side of her neck. “I don't like them, Michael, they make the whole house feel strange. Can you just get rid of them?”

“They're just -”

“Get rid of them!” she hissed, turning to me with fear in her eyes. “Can you
please
take them away from her and get them away from our house? What the hell were you thinking, bringing them here in the first place?”

Sighing, I realized that there was no way of talking her down.

“Fine,” I muttered, trying not to sound too tetchy. I'd had enough discussions about the statues for one day, and all I wanted was to get rid of the damn things and never have to think about them again. “You sort out the books, and I'll take the statues away from Lucy. Hell, I can go post them back to the guy right now, if that's what you want. I'll drive straight to the post office.”

“I don't care what you do with them,” she replied, visibly shuddering, “but get them away from our family.”

“What's wrong with everyone today?” I muttered, heading to the door. “They're just two dumb little statues, that's all.”

Making my way out to the driveway, I saw that Lucas was sitting quietly in the shade, watching as Lucy played. Giving him a quick pat on the head, I couldn't help thinking that he shared my exasperation about the whole crazy situation. Approaching Lucy, I saw that she was mumbling away to herself as she pretended to make the two soldiers talk to each other. She had loads of other toys scattered about, most of them with flashing lights and all the latest gadgets kids were supposed to love, but two simple little wooden soldiers seemed to have captured her imagination.

“Sweetie,” I said, crouching next to her, “I hate to do this, but Daddy needs to take those now.”

She glanced at me for a moment, before shaking her head and then turning to resume her game.

“I have to send them back to the man who wants them,” I continued. “They're not mine. I'm just looking after them for someone.”

She shook her head again. “They're mine now.”

“Honey -”

“I want them,” she added, with tears in her eyes. “Please, Daddy, you can't take them away, not after you gave them to me.”

“I didn't
give
them to you, I just -”

“They're mine!” Gripping one soldier in each hand, I could see she was holding them tight. “You can't take them!”

“Everyone else can't wait to get rid of them,” I muttered, “but you're the opposite, huh?” I held my right hand out toward her. “Come on, game's over. You've got millions of other toys. You don't need these.”

I waited, but she simply turned and started playing again, almost as if she was trying to ignore me.

“Lucy, I'm serious.”

She mumbled something under her breath.

“Lucy, give me those toys right now.”

“No!”

“Lucy, I'm your father and I'm -”

“No!” she yelled. “They're mine and you can't have them!”

I opened my mouth to reply, but suddenly she turned her back to me and started playing with the soldiers again. She'd always been a good, obedient kid, and I'd never known her to defy me so openly before. Frankly, I'd taken pride in the fact that I'd rarely had to yell at her, and I'd always felt that she respected my authority. This time, however, something seemed different, and I figured I needed to nip her rebellious streak in the bud.

“Lucy,” I said firmly, “I'm being serious now, give me the toys.”

I waited, but there was no reply.

“Lucy,” I said again, “give me the toys.”

I waited.

“Lucy -”

“No, Daddy!” she hissed, still with her back to me. “Just leave me alone! I'm playing!”

I sighed.

“They're mine now,” she continued. “No-one else can have them!” She paused, before looking down at the toy in her left hand. “Why?” she asked after a moment. “What kind of fire?”

She turned to the other statue.

“I don't know how to do that. I'm only little, I don't think I'm old enough to try -”

She turned back to the first statue and waited, almost as if she was listening to something.

“I can try if you really want,” she said finally. “Can't you get someone else to do it, though? I'm just a kid.”

She paused.

“Okay, but you'll have to tell me how it works. I can't do it by myself.”

“Did you scratch Mommy's face?” I asked finally, feeling as if I was losing patience.

I waited, but she was holding one of the statues closer to her ear now, as if she expected it to whisper something.

“Lucy,” I continued, “I asked you a question. When Mommy asked you to give her the soldiers, did you scratch her face?” I waited, before reaching out to grab the statue.

“They're mine!” she hissed, pulling her hand away before I could get close enough.

“Did you scratch -”

“It's not my fault!” she continued, sounding annoyed. “Mommy thought she could take them away from me, but she can't! She's not allowed!”

“But it was an accident, right?”

I waited.

No reply.

“Lucy, you only scratched Mommy by accident, didn't you?” Glancing toward the house, I saw Katie staring out at us with fear in her eyes. Turning back to look at the back of Lucy's head, I realized she was ignoring me again.

I paused for a moment, before getting to my feet. The last thing I wanted was a confrontation, so I figured I'd try a more diplomatic approach.

“I'm going to go get Mr. Pandy from your bedroom,” I told her, “and I'm going to bring him out here, and you're going to play with
him
instead. You're going to give me the soldiers and play with your own toys. Do you understand?”

I waited, but once again she was ignoring me.

“I'll be back in two minutes,” I added, turning and heading toward the front door. I knew I could have handled the situation better, but I didn't want to be one of those parents who ends up shouting at his kid. As I reached the steps, I glanced at Lucas and saw a mournful, sad look in his eyes. “We're taking another trip to the post office,” I told him. “This afternoon. I'm gonna post those things back to the guy in Wisconsin and just get them out of our lives.” I hurried to the door, before looking back at the dog. “Not because they're evil, but because they're pissing me off! Just to make that clear.”

“I thought you were going to get them away from her!” Katie said as soon as I made my way inside.

“I'm in the process of doing that, honey.”

“You have to do it now!”

“I'm going to get Mr. Pandy and -”

“I'll do it!” Pushing past me, Katie hurried out to the driveway.

“You don't have to be so -”

I sighed, feeling as if she was being just a little over-dramatic. Hell, everyone so far had reacted to the soldiers with some form of hysteria, and I was starting to think I was the only person who saw them for what they really were: two dumb little chunks of wood that had been painted to look like old-time soldiers. Heading through to Lucy's bedroom, I could already hear Katie outside arguing with her. Whereas I was determined to play nice, Katie was raising her voice, shouting at Lucy in a manner I'd never heard before, almost as if she was becoming frantic.

Feeling a vibration in my pocket, I took out my phone and saw that Jimmy was calling.

“Hey,” I said as I answered, “I don't really have time to -”

“Do you still have those freaky kids' toys?” he asked, sounding a little breathless.

“Not for long. I'm taking them back to the -”

“Dude,” he continued, “I did some reading up on the whole John Spencer Baxter case, and it's way creepier than I remembered. He actually mentioned those toys in, like, this super-weird diary thing he kept.”