You Always Remember Your Third

Maria frantically hangs up another evil eye on her front door and slams it shut. She shuts all the blinds and hangs rosaries over every single one. She lines tiles around every entrance to the house.

“Mom?” Her son calls out. She rushes to his side, eager to help him in any way she can. He’s an adventurous, sporty boy who rarely makes mistakes and rarely gets hurt, but last week he fell off his bike – not even going very far or very fast – and broke both legs and an arm. He’s completely helpless. She began to get worried when the doctor admitted that he shouldn’t have broken like that, but she got even more worried when somebody left a present on their doorstep – an exact, mini replica of his bike with an injured little Lego man riding it.

Now, she’s boarding up the house and locking the two of them inside until her son gets better. There’s no reason to go outside, and she has a weird feeling. She shudders and hangs another silver cross on the wall.

_______

Jessica wanders down the street, skipping songs on her iPod and pulling her black beanie over her eyes, even though it’s hot outside. She’s twenty minutes late getting to school and missed the bus on purpose. She doesn’t really care (and neither do her parents) but eventually she arrives at the school.

The school is unusually quiet. Even though school has already started, it looks as if the school is closed. She approaches the front doors and pulls, but the doors do not budge. She peers in a few windows but all the blinds are closed. She knocks on the doors and yells at the administration – idiots – to let her inside. She shouldn’t be punished that much for being a half an hour late. She pulls out her cell phone to call her friends and ask them to come let her in the door and finds that she doesn’t have any cell service.

Frustrated, she throws her iPod and headphones into her backpack. She wanders around the parking lot for a while looking for anybody to let her know what’s going on. The cars are empty and the school busses are gone.

Finally, she sees the silhouette of an old man. He’s walking around the pond across from the school. He’s very far away but she decides to run after him. Who knows, maybe he’s got an idea of what’s going on.

She runs after him. “Hello?” She shouts. He looks at her and picks up his pace. He’s quick for an old man.

She follows him all the way to his house, calling out after him. She doesn’t catch him before he sneaks into his house and slams the door. She doesn’t see anybody in the street. This neighborhood is new to her – it’s full of old people she’s never wanted to meet. His house is covered in old, peeling black paint, and all the shutters are closed.

“Fucking hermit,” she shouts and starts to walk away. But the house next door catches her eye. It’s brightly colored and covered in festive decorations. It stands out among all the other standard, boring houses on the block. It looks so bright and happy – but all the colorful flowers have wilted in the sun. They look as if they haven’t been watered in days.

She approaches the house and knocks.

“Anybody home?” she asks. She hears shuffling inside. Some woman yelling something in Spanish.

“Hello? I think your flowers need some water…”

The door creaks open and a short Hispanic lady shirks behind the light. She’s holding a cross in front of her.

“Who are you?” She demands.

“Oh, I was just passing by. Your flowers are dying.”

“Don’t care! Get away from me!” She tries to shut the door but Jessica holds it open.

“What’s going on? Why are you being so rude to me?”

The woman looks her up and down – from her torn up black jeans to the beanie covering most of her head – and wrinkles her nose.

“You… you need God!” She hits Jessica’s hands with the cross, “You’re cursed!” She slams the door. Jessica hears three chain locks pushed into place. She scoffs and begins walking home. Her phone still doesn’t have service.

As she leaves she glances back at the two houses. In the window of the black house she can make out two eyes staring at her. She shudders and picks up her pace.

_______

“Principle Beckerd?” Ms. Ronalds whispers over the school phone line, “Principle Beckerd are you there?”

“Ronalds? You know you aren’t supposed to use the school phones in an emergency!”

“I know, I know, but I have a problem. My student, Jessica, isn’t here! I called her parents and they said she left for the bus on time this morning… They can’t get ahold of her. I told them not to come, but they demanded… They’re on their way!”

Principle Beckerd lets out a long sigh, “that’s not good, not good… Send them one more text telling them not to come, then stop contacting them. We are on lockdown until the shooting is cleared! We had an anonymous tip that a shooter was coming to the school, so we can’t make any noise until the police sort it out. The police said they saw an old man creeping around the grounds, but they lost him. Stay silent Ronalds.” Principle Beckerd hangs up and the line goes dead.

_______

David, grouchy from the pains in his foot and the heat of the day, slams his hammer into another nail. He’s boarding up his windows. He’s not superstitious. But, this week, he saw three pedestrians hit by cars. They all died. It’s crazy for a small town to have that many accidents. And the driver (or drivers) were never found. Then, today, he was followed home by some skinny guy wearing all black in the heat! It’s early spring, and no idiot wears black in spring unless they’re robbing somebody. He’s seeing people in every corner now. He knows they aren’t there, but still, what if they are? Somebody definitely followed him home on his morning walk today. He heard them calling out for him outside. So he can’t take any chances – he has to board the windows and lock the doors until this loser finds another geyser to rob. He may be old, but he’s certainly not fragile!

_______

Jessica unlocks her front door and lets herself inside.

“Mom?” She calls out. No answer. “Dad?” She calls. No answer. She checks their office, where they should be working, but nobody is there. She shakes her head, but feels a little uneasy.

Why was there nobody at the school? Where are her parents? Why did that crazy lady tell her she was cursed? And why did that old man run from her?

She throws her stuff down and walks into the kitchen. She gasps.

The entire kitchen is filled with crosses. There are wood ones and silver ones and others she doesn’t quite recognize. Some have been pinned into the walls and some are lying around the floor. There’s a big trash bag on the floor still half full of crosses. She grabs a few of them. They look like they were hung by a crazy person – all sideways and uneven.

How did that bitch get here before me? How did she even know where I live? Jessica thinks, certain she knows who did it. It had to be the crazy lady who had just told her that she was cursed.

Jessica tries to stay calm while she packs up the crosses back into the bag, but she’s worried. She feels uneasy. It doesn’t make sense. She’s never even met that lady – but who else could it be? More importantly, where are her parents? She keeps packing the crosses back into the bag, but realizes that it’s going to take her a while. There’s tons of them, more than she originally noticed, including tiny ones in the drawers and cabinets… Everywhere…

_______

When David finishes boarding up his house he goes inside, intent on having some tea and cookies in peace. He locks his front door and pulls an end table in front of it. That way, if somebody does try to sneak up on him, he will know they are there!

He shuffles into his kitchen, rubbing his eyes. He puts the pot of water on the stove to boil and measures his tea into the strainer. He lets out a long breath, tired from all that work, and takes a seat at his kitchen table. He puts his head in his hands, waiting for his tea to boil.

But before his tea could possibly be ready, he hears a knock on the door. Is that stupid robber back? Doesn’t he know that robbing people in broad daylight is stupid? As if that crazy dude could get into the house now…

Slowly, he makes his way to the door. He tries to peek out all of his windows as he walks down the hallway, forgetting that he just covered them all up. He shakes his head.

He drags the end table away from the door and opens it just a crack. There’s nobody there.

He opens the door wider, cautiously, looking around for somebody to jump out and rob him, but nobody is there. The street is deserted. Who could it be?

Something shiny catches his eye. He looks down on his doormat. There’s a thin, flat silver cross on the doormat glinting in the sun. On top of it there are three, mangled tiny toy cars, lined up in a row. He frowns, thinking back to the accidents he witnessed this week. Who was actually following him this morning?

Quickly, hoping not to be noticed, he grabs the cross and the toys and throws them inside. He slams his door shut, locks it, and pulls the end table back in front of the door, making sure it’s blocking the door properly.

He examines the toys unhappily, unease boiling within him. The teapot whistles loudly in the kitchen, steam waiting to be released.

_______

Around noon Jessica’s parents still haven’t returned. She’s worried. She finished packing up the bag of crosses long ago. She’s been calling them but her phone isn’t working. She can’t get ahold of her friends either. She’s been searching the house for other crosses but hasn’t found any. Hands shaking, she drags the bag behind her and starts heading to the crazy lady’s house.

When she arrives (about an hour later – turns out crosses are actually kind of heavy) she feels even more uneasy. She didn’t see a single person on her way over and didn’t get a single message.

She knocks on the bright red door.

“Hello again? Are you there?” her voice sounds angry, but she still feels scared.

“Hey!” she pounds on the door, “That wasn’t cool of you to throw all these weird ass crosses in my house! I don’t want them!” She bangs on the door a little harder and hears the chain locks rattling against the door.

She stops dead. The locks aren’t locked. But… Nobody is answering. She bangs on the door one more time, listening for a response. She hears nothing.

Cautiously, she pushes the door open. It opens with ease, almost inviting her in, creaking louder with every inch.

“Hello…” her voice fails. The room is dark inside but she can still see. The crazy lady and her son are both dead. The furniture has been removed from the room and their bodies are sprawled out across the floor. They have been torn up with knives. Around their bodies are crosses arranged in some sort of pattern. As Jessica backs up she can see the pattern – a pentagram – surrounding the two victims.

Jessica screams. She runs out of the house, almost tripping on the bag of crosses she’s left in the doorstop. She pulls the bag after her, dragging it on the asphalt. The bag slowly starts to rip, leaving a trail of crosses behind her. She tries to call 911 – but she still has no service.

She trips in the road. Rolling over, she looks up at the two houses and her eyes widen. The big black house has been boarded up – but there’s a giant pentagram painted in red spray paint over the boards and walls. The only thing left untouched is the door.

Shaking, she begins to stand up. She’s panting. She looks down the street, wanting to run home, but she’s drawn to the house. She has to warn the old man!

Crying, Jessica stumbles toward the old man’s house, bag trailing behind her. Her knock is louder than her cries.

To her surprise, the old man opens the door. He steps outside and winces to see her.

“H…Hel…Hello…” She stutters. He shakes his head.

“What are you doing?” He demands. He looks at her shredded trash bag full of crosses. His eyes follow the trail of them into the street, back to his neighbor’s house.

“Those are for your protection!” he shouts at her. She winces.

“I’ve come… I’ve come to warn you…” She coughs, crying. She tries to speak but can’t. She hiccups and points at his wall. He steps outside and looks at the red paint all over his house.

A whizzing sound buzzes her ear. She shrieks and jumps back. The old man falls to the ground, blood spilling from his head. His arms grasp at the doorframe but his life escapes his body faster than he can blink.

More and more blood gushes from his head. Jessica reaches to help him but she’s no use. She can’t see through the tears in her eyes. She knows that her hands are covered in his blood. She’s terrified.

Jessica starts running away from the houses. She leaves the crosses behind. The old man’s body stays in his doorway, the sun shining down on him and baking his old, raw skin. She searches the street rapidly for the shooter but there’s nobody in sight. The other houses are all empty. There’s nobody around.

As Jessica runs toward her home she realizes that there’s a buzzing in her pockets. She pulls her phone out and stops. She has tons of messages and missed phone calls. Her service is back. Her friends have been texting her, even begging her, to respond to them. Her parents have been calling. Even the school has been calling. Her friends and parents all want to know where she was during the school shooting.

What school shooting?

_______

I laugh as I watch her through my scope. She’s like a little rat in a maze. I never really intended to find her – but sometimes that’s just how life is – the perfect one finds you when you least expect it. All went better than planned.

She’s playing with her phone now. It’s almost like she’s hopeful. Not for long… I reach down to my computer and smile. I’ve had control of her phone all day – a few other phones too. I read her messages as she does, laughing as she tries to type a few frantic responses. None of them will get through.

I switch screens back to the news, viewing the school. Their “scare” is over. No shooter was found. Too bad. I laugh again, happy with myself for the perfect anonymous tip.

“Oh, ma’am? Are you there? I swear, I was just driving past the high school and I saw a teenager with a gun! A gun! Can you believe it? He’s coming to shoot up the school! Oh-god! There’s more! Hurry, hurry get those poor kids inside!”

I mock myself, waving the silly little rifle in the air. Time to pack up.

Packing up is easy – but I have to be careful not to rush myself. The last thing I pack is the scope, still watching her. One last thing before I leave.

I pull out a phone and call her.

“Hello?” her shaking voice comes over the other end. I grin, breathing heavily.

“Hello? Is anybody there?” She can barely speak. She’s choking on her own sobs. Wonderful.

“You were an easy one.” I hiss.

“What? Who is this?” Her voice is steadier, but still barely audible. I wait a few seconds to answer. I know she won’t hang up.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m almost there.”

END