Run

I stuck myself in the eye trying to put on the false eyelashes. Immediately, my eyes began to water and smear my eyeliner. “Shit.”

My text message sound diverted my attention. I knew what it was. I hoped I was wrong, but I could tell. I just knew. With my good eye, I read the message: Hey Katie, sorry for the late notise, but I can’t go out tonight! I’ll call you later! (Heart emoticon) -Dylan

Asshole didn’t spell notice right. That should be a sign. With one eye still closed (I guess I could bring back the eyepatch; make that a thing), I called Jen’s number.

“He bailed, didn’t he?” She knew before I could explain. As soon as she saw it was me calling, she knew.

“Yup.” And I looked cute, dammit. Except for the one eye thing. All that effort, and now it would be wasted on my nephew. “You guys still have your reservation?”

“No, Jason already cancelled it, but I bet we can get it back if we call now.”

“Ok.” I peeled off one false eyelash- the one that behaved. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Thanks, Katie!”

No problem.

Jen had to let me have it one more time as soon as I walked in the door. “When are you going to learn that musicians don’t make good boyfriends?”

“I don’t know, sis. Never?”

Jen’s lips drew into a thin line. “Don’t be a sourpuss.”

Jason walked into the living room from the kitchen. “Hey Katie! Thanks for stepping in! We haven’t had date night in a while.”

“No problem, Jason.” Jason was, in my estimation, too nice to be married to my sister. But they seemed to get along really well. It must be a yin-yang thing.

I tossed my purse on the sofa. “Where’s Sam?”

“He’s playing video games in the family room. He said wants to watch a movie tonight, though. We have kettle corn!” Jen sold me. I’m a slut for kettle corn.

If Sam wanted to watch a movie with me, I knew that meant he’d want to watch something his parents would probably disapprove of. It was our little secret. We’d watch violent movies, scary movies- anything that his mom would frown at. I was definitely the “cool aunt.”

“I don’t know how late we’ll be…” Jen was about to apologize.

“No worries, I have no plans. Take your time. Enjoy yourselves.” At least one of us is going out tonight.

Jason patted me on the shoulder. “There’s frozen pizza, or you can order out. Your choice! I left you money for dinner on the counter.”

“Really? That’s super nice, but you don’t have to do that. I’m not sixteen.”

“Still. You’re helping us out. We really appreciate it.” He is way too nice for Jen.

Jen scooped up her purse and coat. “We better get going. Call my cell if you need anything yada yada.”

“Got it.”

On their way out the door Jen called out, “Sam! We’re leaving! Your Aunt Katie is here! Be good!”

From the family room I hear, “Ok! Bye!”

“I love you!”

Sam’s reply was loud, but distant, “Love you too.” He was engrossed in his game.

Jason shook his head and said goodbye again. Jen hugged me, a quick slip around my shoulder. I closed the door behind them and locked it up. Here we go. I moseyed into the kitchen and scoped out the fridge before I’d check on Sam. As I was buried in the freezer (yes, Phish Food!), Sam snuck up behind me.

“Hey Katie!”

He was trying to scare me, but I’d seen his reflection in the refrigerator door. “Hi, Sam.”

“Aw, you were supposed to jump and hit your head!”

“You trying to give me a concussion?” I turned around and crossed my arms. “And here I thought we were mates. I guess that means we’re only watching PG-13 tonight!”

“Noooo! Please! I’m sorry!” Sam put his hands together like he was praying. “I promise I’ll be cool.”

I fished the Ben & Jerry’s out of the freezer. “I’m going to eat all of this, and then I’m going to make kettle corn. What do you want for dinner?”

Sam chose a ginormous bag of Cheetos and warmed up a frozen burrito. We sat on the couch together and picked out a movie. Sam wanted something scary.

“Zombies?” I asked.

“No, they’re boring now. Everything’s zombies.”

I like my nephew. I love him, too, of course. But I really like him. He’s so smart, he reminds me of me. “Yeah, zombies are lame. Slasher?”

“Eh… I dunno.”

“Vampires and werewolves?”

“Naw.”

“Haunted house?”

That was the one. Sam nodded. “Yeah! Haunted house!”

I searched our available options, and we found one that sounded the scariest and had the R rating attached to it. I made the kettle corn and set us up with some beverages; a Sam Adams for me and a root beer for Sam. We turned off the lights and settled in.

The house was haunted alright. There was a great deal of tension and peripheral frights. Of course, there was the odd jump scare- which both Sam and I hate- but they still managed to get us a few times. The main ghost was a shitty CGI thing when it’s revealed at the end, but it was still creepy. So often (and Sam and I have discussed this at length), the buildup and the suspense is so much better than the reveal at the end. It seemed like most directors didn’t know how to end a horror film. We watch them and love them anyway, though, despite our refined taste.

When the movie was over, we put an old TV show on in the background while we finished our snacks.

“Do you believe in things? Like, monster things? Ghosts?”

I wouldn’t get away with a half-assed answer, so I crunched a mouthful of kettle corn while I thought about it. “I don’t know. There are stories going back thousands of years about weird creatures and boogeymen. But I don’t know, I’ve never seen anything in my closet or lurking under the bed in the middle of the night.”

“But they always hide in the darkness, so maybe they’re there, and you just don’t see them.”

“I guess that could be true. Like I said, I don’t know. I don’t disbelieve, per say. I’ve just never seen anything personally.” I could see the wheels turning in his mind. “What do you think?”

“I guess I kind of believe in it. Like you said, there are lots of stories out there. Where would all these legends and stuff come from if it wasn’t a little bit true?” Sam is smarter than most adults I know. He’s twelve, but I think he might be a genius- an actual genius.

“True enough.” I had to agree.

Sam took a sip of root beer. “Why do they always hide in the dark? Like, why do they only come out at night?”

“Everything’s scarier at night. You can’t see anything, so there’s nothing to warn you if you’re about to run into a boogeyman or monster. Lots of people are already afraid of the dark, so adding monsters to the mix always makes for a better horror movie.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense, I guess.”

“Makes you wanna buy a nightlight, huh?” I nudged him with my knee.

“No!” Sam nudged back.

Eventually, the clock read ten thirty. We were both tired, even though neither of us wanted to go to sleep. I walked Sam upstairs so I could use Jen’s bathroom while he got ready for bed. Jen has a bunch of nice skincare products, so I washed my face and used her La Mer moisturizer. Plump and youthful. Once I looked five years younger, I went to Sam’s room. His light was on, and I peaked inside. “Sam?”

“HA!” Sam snuck up on me from behind.

This time, I did jump. I jumped and I squealed-- a little. “Sam!” I gave him a warning look, but then I immediately burst into laughter. “You really got me that time.”

Sam grinned, satisfied with his success. “Well, I think the movie helped set the mood.”

I couldn’t be mad. I would have done the same thing. In fact, I remember doing the same thing to him a few times. And I can’t count how many times I did that to Jen over the years. I was (am) the quintessential obnoxious little sister.

“Well, now that you’ve aged me twenty years, I think it’s time for bed. Did you brush your teeth?”

He grinned like a shark. “Clean and sparkly.”

“Alright. Gimme a hug.” He hugged me. He’s not yet too cool to be affectionate, but he’s getting there.

As I turned to walk down the stairs, he reminded me, “Don’t watch any good movies without me.”

“I won’t. I’ll probably just play on my phone until your parents get back.”

“Ok. Good.”

I winked at him and smiled. He knows that meant that I love him. He walked towards his room, smug from his junk food dinner, and for finally getting me to jump a mile into the air.

He said it so quietly, I barely heard him. “Katie?”

I turned around at the top stair. “Yeah?”

He stood in his doorway, still as a statue. His voice was still a whisper. “What happens if you see the boogeyman when all the lights are on?”

The answer came to me quickly. “Run.”

He moved so suddenly I was startled. He sprinted into action, turning heel and shooting past me down the stairs. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as he passed me. His face was white, his eyes wide in terror. My heartbeat kicked up like I’d run a marathon, and before I asked any questions, I knew that I had to follow him. I felt something behind me, the scarcest feeling of breath on my neck, the slightest graze of something like claws reaching out for me. Sam was unlocking the front door when I was halfway down the stairs. He wasn’t waiting for me, but I knew he could hear me behind him. I took the stairs as quickly as I could and I paid for it. The moment my foot slipped on the carpet, I knew I was going down. It happened in a second, and before I could blink, I was crumpled at the bottom of the stairs with my arm pinned beneath me.

Sam turned when he heard the fall. “Katie, get up!”

The darkness was right behind me. If I didn’t get up… “Now,” I said to myself and willed my shaking legs and my numb arm to pull it together. Get to the door. “Run, Sam!” I’m coming.

Sam ran out the door and I was right behind him. When I made it across the threshold, I felt immediately- though just a sliver- safer somehow. I didn’t know for certain if I was safe, so I kept running. Sam was across the street, gesturing wildly for me to come to him. He wasn’t running anymore, so I assumed that whatever was in the house hadn’t followed me out the door. My legs still shook, and my left arm was still numb- perhaps broken or dislocated. I couldn’t think about that. My legs were more important right now. Sam grabbed my waist when I joined him on the sidewalk. His body was still tense, ready to break into a run again if need be.

We stared at the open doorway, waiting. Chills wracked my body, every muscle I had was shaking. My right arm hugged Sam to me as we watched his house. Nothing. No shadow, no figure, no creature walked through the doorway. The lights were still on. The house looked normal. It looked safe. But we didn’t relax, and we didn’t let go of each other.

“Do you see anything?” I asked, speaking quietly; as though disturbing the quiet would summon it forth.

I felt Sam shake his head, but he said nothing. Perhaps he, too, was nervous to break the silence.

We both saw it at the same time. Sam held his breath, and I involuntarily did the same. There, up in Sam’s window, we saw it’s silhouette. His room was still bright with his bedroom light, but it shed very little light on the thing itself. It looked tall and human. Sort of. It’s eyes were pale, and it’s teeth were white- glowing in the darkness of the rest of it’s face. The rest of it’s form was too dark to make out, but I imagined it was just as sharp and demonic as it’s face appeared. It smiled wide at us, baring it’s full set of razor fangs. It raised it’s claws to wave, and Sam and I ran.

We ran for blocks. We ran out of his neighborhood and down to a busier street- the main thoroughfare in the area. Lights, people, and cars studded the street. Across the road, there was a shopping center with a supermarket and a Target. The lights and promise of human contact- the inference of safety- brought us to the crosswalk. Sam kept his hand in mine, and we squeezed so hard that both our hands hurt. I kept turning behind us, scanning every shadow, and every little movement- the slight rustle of the leaves in the breeze. We felt better for being further away, but we did not know if we were truly safe.

Crossing quickly at the light, I asked Sam, “Target or grocery store?”

“I don’t care.”

Fair enough. I didn’t really care either, but I need to speak. I needed to remind myself that I could.

I guided us into the brightly lit Target, overwhelmed with gratitude that there was always a little bustle in the red and white store.

We went up and down a few aisles, making sure to keep other people in our vision. Our hands still hurt; bones and tendons crushing against each other.

At length, Sam spoke. “Should we call the police?”

“I suppose so.”

He turned to face me. “We have to call mom and dad.”

I nodded. I’d run out of the house without my phone- without anything. My purse, phone, wallet, and keys were all back there. “Let’s go to customer service; maybe they’ll let me borrow their phone.”

The young, tired but pretty, girl at customer service was nice. She handed over the red phone without looking annoyed or inconvenienced. I dialed Jen’s number by heart. It rang. And rang. And rang again.

“Hi, this is Jen. I can’t answer my phone right now; but if you leave a message, I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks! Bye!”

“Jen. This is Katie. I’m not calling from my phone- I left it at the house. Sam and I are at the Target off Mesa Drive. Please come pick us up here; don’t go home first! Ok? Don’t go home, come to the Target as soon as you get this.” I read the number written in pencil below the keypad on the phone. “The number here is 861-0220. Call me as soon as you get this.”

The girl at the counter looked curious and a little worried. She heard the tremor and panic in my voice. I tried to keep it under control so I didn’t lose it over the phone. I had to be sure that Jen heard the message clearly. I couldn’t freak out. Not yet. Not any more than I already was.

“Should we call the police now?”

I thought about it. “I don’t know. I guess so.”

The Target girl let me use the phone again. The woman who answered the 9-1-1 call was thorough and slow. I repeated myself a dozen times before she assured me that she was sending a squad car over to Sam’s house to check it out. Ten minutes.

Sam listened to my end of the conversation and got the gist of it all. His death-grip on my hand relaxed a tiny bit. The color hadn’t come back into his cheeks, but I think his heartbeat was closer to normal. The adrenaline kick was starting to wear off.

“Is it ok if we wait here ‘til his mom calls back?”

Target girl (“Kayla” according to her nametag) nodded. She looked concerned for us. I’m sure this was the most unusual thing that had happened to her all day. Plastic uncomfortable chairs were available in the customer service area. I rearranged them slightly so we could see the front doors. I felt the need to keep an eye on the exit. In case…

Sam noticed the way I cradled my arm in my lap. “What’s wrong with your arm?”

“Dunno. I think I broke it when I fell.”

“Mom always warns me about running down the stairs.” Sam studied my arm some more. “Does it hurt? Do you need an ambulance?”

“It’s still a bit numb, and yeah. I’ll probably get Jen to drive me to the hospital when she gets here.”

The phone rang, and we all jumped. Even Kayla. She answered the phone. “Thank you for calling Target Customer Service, this is Kayla; how can I help you?” She listened. “Yes, she’s here. I’ll put her on.”

I stood up, and Sam stood up with me.

Jen’s voice was tense, but more flustered than angry. “Katie? Why’d you leave all your stuff at the house?”

“Jen, where are you? You need to come get us. Now. Didn’t you get my message?”

“Of course I did, I’m calling you at Target, aren’t I? Sorry, though, I didn’t see the missed call until we got home. So, I’ll head out and come pick you-“

No. “Jen. Jen!” She went silent. “Jen, you and Jason have to get out of the house. Right now. Don’t pick up anything, don’t pack anything. Get out. Now.”

Jen was quiet for a moment. “Katie, what’s going on? Is Sam ok? Did something--”

The phone crackled with static. I thought I heard Jen’s voice, but it was muted and quiet.

“Jen?”

The phone wasn’t dead, but I couldn’t hear anything anymore. There was a strange hum in the background, as if the phone was sitting next to the washing machine.

“Jen?” My tears were thick in my voice, constricting my throat.

My hand was shaking and clumsy as I tried to put the receiver down after she failed to answer the second time.

Sam’s hand was a vice again. “Are they coming?”

I don’t know. I have to snap out of it. “I’ll call the police again.” I need the phone…

“Ow, Sam!” It didn’t seem possible, but his grip tightened even more. His hand turned clammy, chilling my own. I didn’t shake him off, and I didn’t let go- because I felt it too. The hair on my neck rose again, and I felt my legs begin to quake.

Kayla wasn’t there when I looked up to ask for the phone again. I didn’t know where she was. It was there - standing where Kayla should have been. It was staring at us, unblinking; smiling that same terrifying smile we’d seen in the window. In the ugly fluorescent light, I could see It clearly now. I pushed Sam behind me until my body mostly blocked him from It. It hadn’t moved at all, but the desk wasn’t much of a barrier. Could I get Sam to the door? What do I do?

As if I’d said it out loud, It answered, “Run.”