Accidental Evil (10 page)

Peg kept the gun pointed at the deck until she heard the fans again.

She turned, raising the gun to her shoulder. It had been a few years, but she was a champion at shooting skeet.
 

“Show yourself,” she whispered again.

Her eye picked up movement and she swung the gun over. It was a gray squirrel, perched on one of the branches of an oak tree. The thing looked so stunned and guilty that she almost fired anyway. But she wanted her first shot to count. She wanted to take the thing out.
 

The sound looped behind her. Peg whirled around, barrel first. Instinct nearly took over, and she almost squeezed the trigger. It was a good thing she didn’t. It was possible that she would have hit the toy quadcopter, but it was definite that she would have hit her own roof.

Peg kept turning until her gun was not longer pointed at her house.

She waited. She still hadn’t gotten a good look at the bugger. But all it took was a glance and she would shoot. With shooting skeet, she had developed reactions that didn’t even require conscious thought. It was simply turn and shoot.

The motors buzzed again. It sounded like it was making a break for it. She let the gun come up, sweep from right to left, and BOOM! As the sound died down she lowered the smoking barrel. There was no more buzzing, just a crunch of broken plastic as it hit the lawn.

Peg smiled. She laid the gun on top of the deck railing and let her feet glide down the steps to the yard. She advanced quickly. The thing was black and silver and had two translucent blades that were still trying to spin. She was wrong—it wasn’t a quadcopter. She counted five propellers around the perimeter of the device. Perhaps that made it a pentacopter? She wasn’t sure.

Peg nudged it with her toe and flipped the thing over. She was looking for a camera to disable so she wouldn’t be the star of some online video.

On the underside, she found three yellow lights. They angled themselves towards her and she planted her foot right in the center of the cluster. They had looked like foreign eyes, taking her in. She didn’t like that.

Peg stomped. The blades stopped spinning and the yellow lights began to fade. She must have accidentally disconnected the battery. Peg leaned down for a closer look.

“Awww,” she said with a mock frown. She shook her head. “Did you get all kilt?”

Peg smiled and began to straighten up. She stopped herself. It was hard to tell in the dying light, but it looked like part of the thing was metal. Peg tilted her head. It seemed stupid to use something so heavy in the construction of a pentacopter. Wouldn’t it suck the batteries dry to lift the extra weight?

She reached out to touch it. Perhaps it was just a type of shiny plastic.

Just brushing the metal, her hand stiffened. Her fingers were stuck to the metal. As Peg realized that she was stuck there, the paralysis moved up her arm. It took her too long for her to clue in and react. When she tried to pull back, her legs were already frozen in place. Back on the deck railing, she heard the shotgun fire on its own.

She couldn’t move her eyes by the time she heard the things clicking their mechanical limbs and emerging from the woods. She caught sight of one of the little spider-things as it skittered in front of her unblinking eyes. Peg wanted to scream, but her voice didn’t work either.

One of the unseen creatures climbed up her leg and mounted her back. Her stiff muscles supported the weight even though Peg wanted to shake the thing off. Every part of her wanted to turn her head to see the thing that was poking at the back of her hand. Pain came a second later and she wondered if it was pulling apart her skin.

The world started to fade away from Peg as the things whirred and clicked around her.
 

[ Commerce ]

J
ULY
2

“L
ET
’
S
GO
,” Mary said to the rearview mirror. George seemed to have recovered from his bout of depression. Seeing his father acting completely normal had dispelled the idea that he was going to die. Still, she had kept the boy with her all day. It might have been completely unnecessary for him, but it was necessary for her. Mary popped the trunk as George went to look at the new flowers that Louise had planted under the store’s front windows.

The box in the trunk was heavy. She thought about asking George to take some of the load, but then changed her mind. If she made up chores for him, he wouldn’t want to tag along on her next errand. Inside, Louise was at the counter, scraping price tags off of greeting card boxes. Louise had a new scheme. She would peel off a price tag, put a higher price in its place, and then cover it with the original price. Bargain hunters would peel back the top label and then scoop up half the stock, thinking they had found a steal.

Mary set the box of jars down on the counter and started to pull out all the jars with green lids.

“The green lids are organic,” she said. “The blue ones are made from store bought strawberries.”

Louise narrowed her eyes.

Mary looked up and saw the expression on Louise’s face. “It’s not a lie if I believe it, right?”

Louise smiled. “Why blue?”

“I ran out of red. What do you want me to say?”

Louise shook her head. “That’s fine, I guess. I’ll save them aside until I’m out of red. It will increase demand.”

“Mom?” George asked. “Can I get the keys?”

Mary pulled out her car keys and pressed them into his hand. “No joy rides.”

“No, I have to get the rocks,” he said. He ran off, leaving Mary to puzzle after him.

“It’s a side deal I have with him,” Louise said. “You’ll see.”

“That reminds me,” Mary said. “I have another load of pillows ready if you want them. I’d rather bring them over than keep them in my parlor. It’s starting to smell like a whorehouse for elves in there.”

Louise laughed. “Bring them before Saturday if you can. I never know what’s going to be hot any given year. This year could be the year of the balsam pillow. My friend Haddie says they move a million of them every time it’s cold and humid down in Freeport.”

“I just looked,” Mary said, “and I think the weather on the Fourth is going to be fine. The problem is going to be the parade. People aren’t going to come because they all saw that piece about Big Jack on the news and it’s too depressing to think of the parade without him.”

“I thought we’d get the opposite,” Louise said. “I thought we’d get people coming to mourn for him.”

Mary shrugged. “What’s the draw? You really want to see two-dozen kids whistling through their damn recorders for a mile and half? Shoot me now.”

The bell over the door rang out as George ran back in with his sack.
 

Mary held out her hand and the boy dropped the keys into her palm. He set his sack down carefully on the counter and began to pull out dirty rocks, covered in moss and grass.

“George!” Mary said.

“That’s a decent one,” Louise said, pointing to one of the rocks. “This one could work. These are all too small, and this one is too round. You see what I’m looking for.”

George nodded seriously at the instruction. Mary finally figured out what they were negotiating. Louise sold all kinds of horrible gifts and trinkets at the Village Peddler. One of her joke gifts was a flat rock with fancy cursive writing on the top. It read, “Please Turn Me Over.” On the back there was a simple painting of a flower and two words: “Thank You.” For some reason, People From Away bought them hand over fist. It never occurred to Mary to wonder where Louise got her supply of flat rocks. Apparently, she employed boys like George to bring them.
 

They settled on which ones Louise would purchase and she handed the boy a few dimes to compensate his effort. George took the rest of the rocks and put them back in the sack.

“Don’t go dumping those on my lawn, George,” Louise said. “I don’t want Carla to kick them up with the mower.”

George nodded and ran back to the door.
 

After he had banged through, Mary turned back to Louise.

“You didn’t hear about Carla Gault? You’re going to have to find a new lawn person I’m afraid.”

Louise rolled her eyes. “Oh, no. What happened?”

“She picked up that Cormier boy and they ran off for sunnier climes.”

“They won’t make it past New Hampshire in that rust bucket she drives.”

“Even so, I bet she’s not around to cut your grass any time soon.”

Louise sighed. “What about your boy, Ricky?”

Mary shrugged. “He’s got his hands full between the marina and the ice cream stand. I’ll float it out to him, but you know how lazy a boy can be.”

“Not your George. He’s industrious. I’d let
him
do it if he were a few years older.”

“That’s sweet, but he’d probably cut his foot off. We’re not letting him near power equipment until he comes home without a cut or a bruise and both of his shoes for at least two days in a row.”

They laughed together at that.
 

“Is Ricky still going to do his magic show at the gazebo after the parade?”

“I suppose so. Why not?” Mary asked.

“I just thought that maybe with the parade fizzling out, the board might cancel the magic show too.”

“They better not,” Mary said. “They promised him his full performance fee, and they’re going to pay it. It won’t be his fault if nobody shows up.”

Louise gave a firm nod of agreement.

“How’s your vermin problem?” Mary asked, glancing towards the door.

“The Dingus? I haven’t seen him today, but I don’t doubt he’ll be back. The way he loiters around, he scares off the customers, but what am I supposed to do about it? The Sheriff will tell me to go scratch. Family is family. You know what’s worse? April Yettin has been wandering down here lately. She was outside the Grill a couple of days ago until something spooked her. Now she’s been milling around my parking lot, looking like a drowned ghost in that summer dress. Yesterday it looked like the asylum was having their tryouts in my dooryard.”

Mary laughed for a second. “Oh, but that’s sad. She never did anything to hurt anyone. It’s not her fault that her brain went bad.”

“Really? I heard that there might have been some substances involved in that little transformation. If it wasn’t her fault it would be news to me.”

Mary raised her eyebrows. “Seriously? I never heard that. I heard it ran in the family.”

“That too, I suppose,” Louise said.

Louise’s gossip was always rooted in fact, but sometimes it was embellished with fiction. It was good to challenge her every now and again just to keep her honest.

“I better catch up with the monster,” Mary said. “Take care.”

Outside, George was already in the car. He clipped himself into his booster as she got behind the wheel.

“Eager to go?” she asked.

“That guy is creepy,” George said.
 

Mary glanced in the mirror and saw which way George’s eyes darted. She turned to look. It was the Dingus. He was walking up the road at a slow pace with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He was a creepy guy—she had heard stories—but he didn’t
look
creepy.

“What makes him creepy looking?” she asked her son.

“He whispers to himself. Don’t you see?”

Mary squinted in the direction of Gerard Dingus. George had really good eyes. She could just barely make out that Gerard’s lips were moving.

“Maybe he’s just singing a song to himself.”

“I think he’s talking to someone we can’t see,” George said.

A shiver ran down Mary’s spine.

[ Passport ]

“G
OT
IT
!” B
RUCE
H
AZARD
’
S
voice called from the other side of the house. The side door closed behind him.

Lily tucked her bookmark between the pages and put her book on top of the radiator. She unfolded her legs and pushed out of the big chair. She caught up with her father as he went into the study where her mom was sorting through bills.

“Got what?” Lily asked.

He turned and smiled. “I got your passport sorted out. It will be here in the morning. We can be on our way this weekend.”

Wendy wrinkled her nose. “The Fourth is Saturday. Shouldn’t we wait for Monday to travel?”

“I don’t understand—how did you get it so quickly?” Lily asked.

“I think Monday would be best. I’ll book the tickets. Unless that’s the holiday. When’s the official holiday?” her mother asked.

Her father shrugged.

“Do you recognize this?” Wendy asked Bruce. She was holding up a bill. “It’s for quite a bit of money for some scientific devices or something. I’ll have to call them and see what they think we ordered.”

They had moved on to another subject. Lily saw their plans becoming solidified before she could even object. “Can we talk about this? Are you sure I need to go?” Lily asked.

“We did talk. It’s the only solution.”

“Only because Trina’s cousin is living with her though,” Lily said.
 

“That’s not likely to change,” her father said. “You don’t expect her to send her cousin away so she can live here, do you?”

“No,” Lily said, “that’s not what I’m saying.” She turned to her mother—that’s where the decision would be made. “What if Trina
and
her cousin come stay here. He walks to town every day anyway. If they lived here, he would be that much closer to town and he wouldn’t have to walk down that busy road. Trina could keep an eye on both of us.”

Wendy and Bruce exchanged a look. Her father raised his eyebrows at her mother. She knew the unspoken conversation they were having—he was deferring to her judgement and she was deliberating.

Lily could see that there was still a chance. Anything she said now could only hurt her case. She kept quiet and hoped for the best.

“Let me speak with Trina,” her mother said. “Please don’t get your hopes up.”

Lily’s heart soared. Her hopes couldn’t have possible gotten any higher.

[ Conversation ]