Amid the Recesses: A Short Story Collection of Fear (13 page)

“
I can’t. I’m
stuck.”

“
Let me go!” She yelled
again. “I have to play with Binky.”

He released her and she crawled to his
side. She skipped toward the door and entered the house as Sara
opened the door.

Greg asked from the ground.
“Binky?”

Sara shrugged with a smile. “Your
guess is as good as mine. He’s a ‘friend.’” She made air
quotes.

“
Oh. Imaginary?”

“
I hope so. He led her to
the men’s bathroom this afternoon.”

Greg pulled himself up and dusted
grass from his shirt. “Oh.”

“
She never does
that.”

“
Is she alright?” Greg
asked.

Sara stared through the open window of
the house. Willow pushed a large ball through the threshold of the
kitchen door and it disappeared. A moment later it returned and she
did it again. Sara cocked her head.

“
Everything
alright?”

Sara snapped out of the haze. “Yeah,
I’m sorry.

“
Throw it straight, Binky!”
Willow shouted from inside.

Greg watched Willow and the ball.
“Children do this.”

“
Is it okay?”

Greg nodded. “I think I had an
imaginary friend when I was younger. I turned out alright. You like
me.” He smiled.

She smiled back. “I
do.”

They went into the house
together.

That night, Sara sat beside her
daughter.

“
Have you thought about
what you did today?”

Willow nodded.

“
You won’t do that
again?”

Willow shook her head.

Sara looked around the quiet room.
Pink walls cascaded into white molding. Willow’s drawings were
taped to the walls. A new drawing caught Sara’s eye—a picture of a
small girl and a clown-looking figure, with a long, strange nose,
polka-dot clothing, a wide, menacing grin and long rows of teeth.
She bit her lip.

“
Is Binky here with you
now?”

“
Oh, no. He’s shy around
other people. He only likes me.” Willow said. “We’re going to play
all day tomorrow. That’s what he said.”

“
Can you tell me what Binky
looks like?”

“
He’s tall. He wears big
brown shoes with buckles on them and bells that jingle when he
walks and dances. He has big, puffy pants and a long jacket. He
keeps a polka dot hanky in his pocket, too, for when his giant nose
is runny. His nose runs a lot because it’s really long, like
Pinocchio. But it’s pointier. And he has a tall hat. He wears a
black bowtie, too.”

The picture matched Willow’s
description. Sara looked back at her daughter. “Is he nice to
you?”

“
Yes. He’s the
best.”

“
Can you tell him not to
have you run off without me anymore?”

“
He said he’s sorry for
that.”

Sara smiled and pulled
Willow’s covers to her chin.
“Get some
sleep, pumpkin.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead. “I love
you.”

“
I love you too,” Willow
said. She was nothing but almond eyes beneath the lifted
blanket.

Sara stood from the bed and left the
room. She closed the door and heard whispering from inside. She
leaned against the door to try and hear it but couldn’t
understand.

“
Willow, go to sleep.” Sara
said through the door.

The whispering stopped.

Sara changed into her
pajamas and got into bed. Greg was staring at a crossword puzzle
through thick spectacles. His bald head reflected the light from
the ceiling.
Greg leaned toward her. “1958
horror film oozer. Four letters.” He watched her over the frame of
his glasses.

“
Are you serious?” She
laughed.

“
Seriously, I have no
idea.” His eyes were blank and wide.

“
Blob. The Blob. You’ve
never seen The Blob? Movie used to give me the creeps.” She put a
hand on his hairy chest and laid her head into the
pillow.

“
B-l-o-b. Fits better than
‘muck.’” Greg winked.

“
Feeling better tonight?
You haven’t slept well in a few days. Keep waking up and you’re
gone,” Sara said.

“
I’m fine. Work stress.
Happens.” He shrugged.

Sara rolled and turned off the
lamp.

“
I was using
that.”

“
Go to sleep.” Sara said.
She took the book and placed it on the nightstand.

Sara woke up to a hollow
pop. The sound stirred her from the regular lullaby of Greg’s
snoring. She heard the sound again behind her. She turned and
noticed Willow sitting cross-legged a short distance from the bed.
She rolled her ball against the bedframe. It disappeared for a
second and then rolled back to Willow. Willow didn’t seem to notice
her mother’s movements. Sara leaned further over the side of the
bed. When Willow rolled the ball, it hit the bed frame and
stopped.

“
Willow. What are you
doing?” Sara asked.

Greg stirred, snorted, and resumed
snoring.

“
Playing with Binky. He
said he’s not tired anymore.”

“
Willow, honey, you need to
go to sleep.” Sara looked again at the still ball, colored an icy
blue like a distant planet fallen out of orbit of the
sun.

“
He said he wanted to be
close to you to protect you.”

“
What?”

“
He wanted to protect you,
mommy.”

“
Willow, what are you
talking about?”

Willow pursed her lips.

“
Protect me from
what?”

Willow looked beneath the bed and
nodded.

Sara’s jaw fell and she thrust herself
forward to look under the bed. Nothing was there.

Willow chewed on the inside of her
cheeks.

“
You need to get back to
bed.”

“
Can you take me back?”
Willow asked.

Sara rose out of bed and took Willow’s
hand. They walked through the hallway toward her room. Sara opened
the door and shooed the child in.

“
Get to sleep.”

Willow bounced into her bed and
covered herself up.

Sara watched her for a moment before
closing the door. She tripped on something. She looked down and saw
Greg’s sleep shoes outside of the door. Sara leaned down and picked
them up and carried them into the room.

The next morning, the smell
of food woke her. She climbed out of bed. Beside it was Willow’s
ball. It was popped and deflated. Sara leaned down and examined the
flat rubber. A long scratch ran through the rubber’s surface. It
looked like a beached jellyfish. She went downstairs.

“
Morning, babe. French
toast,” Greg said.

The kitchen was covered with dishes.
Sara scanned the battlefield of plates and measuring cups and large
mixing bowls. She forced a smile and a thank you.

Willow sat at her small
table next to the adult table. She ate cereal. She lowered a full
spoon of the cereal to somewhere beneath her table. “Bite? No!” She
burst into laughter and plugged the spoon into her mouth. She
filled the spoon with cereal again and lowered it beneath the
table. “Bite? No!” She pulled the spoon back again with such hurry
that she knocked her bowl of cereal to the ground. The bowl
shattered and milk and cereal spread across the kitchen
floor.

“
Willow!” Sara
yelled.

Willow and Greg jumped at
Sara’s shout. The room was quiet but for the hissing of the pan and
the trollish breathing of the hood vent.

“
I’m sorry. Binky
was—“

“
No, Willow. Don’t blame
this on Binky. You can’t do that.”

“
But he did!” Willow
plead.

“
Willow, go to your room.”
Sara pointed to the stairs.

Willow pouted and pounded her feet as
she went to the stairs and up them.

Greg flipped the French toast. He
turned and rubbed Sara’s tense shoulders. “You alright?”

“
I barely slept. This Binky
thing.” She sighed and leaned into his hands. Her eyes closed. “Did
you go into her room last night?”

Greg paused. He continued, pushing his
fingers into her shoulders. “No. Why?”

Sara shook her head. Brown, messy hair
flopped around her ears. “Your shoes were outside of her door. She
must have taken them. She was playing with Binky last night next to
our bed.”

“
That’s creepy.”

“
Yeah. Tell me about
it.”

Greg turned her around and put his
arms around her. She smiled and whispered I love you. He whispered
it back.

“
I suppose we better clean
this up.” Greg said, “Binky! Clean this up.”

Sara smirked and unrolled a
handful of paper towels. The phone rang as Sara kneeled down to
clean the mess.

“
Can you get that?” She
asked.

“
Yeah.” Greg went to the
phone and answered it. “Hello…yeah…okay…okay, yeah, hold on.” He
put the phone on his shoulder. “It’s Lisa, John’s sister. Sounds
like something’s wrong.”

Sara tossed a soaked paper towel into
the trash and took the phone.

“
Hey, Lisa…what?...oh my
God…when?...okay…okay, I’m leaving right now…okay.” She hung up the
phone and covered her mouth. Tears filled her eyes.

“
Sara, what happened?” He
rushed to her.

“
Amber. She was in an
accident. It’s bad. I need to go.” Sara rushed to her purse and
pulled shoes onto her feet. “I need to go right now. I’ll call
you.”

“
Sara, are you sure? Do you
want me to go with you?”

Sara shook her head. “I
need to go right now. I’ll call you.” She left the house and got
into her car and drove out of the driveway with a squeal of
tires.

Sara called that night. She sobbed
hysterically. “Amber’s dead. Amber’s dead.”

When Sara returned home before
morning. She packed her things at first light.

“
You sure about all this?”
Greg asked.

“
I need
to go for a few days. They’re shipping her body to her parents’
house for the funeral. I need to be there.”
Her voice was sick and hoarse. Her nose was bright
red and her eyes were soggy with tears.

“
Okay. We’ll be alright.
I’ll take care of Willow.”

Sara tried to smile but it
fled. She stared at her folded clothes.

‘
What can I do?” Greg
asked.

“
Nothing.”

Willow was waiting for her outside.
Sara sat her luggage upright and kneeled next to her
daughter.

“
Do you have to go?” Willow
asked.

“
I do. I’m sorry. Greg is
going to watch you for a few days.”

Willow looked to Greg. He stood in the
doorway with his arms crossed.

“
Can I go with
you?”

“
You can’t, pumpkin. Not
this time.”

“
Please?”

“
I’m sorry.”

Willow’s eyes
glossed.
“Okay.”

Greg stepped from the door and took
Willow’s hand. “We’ll be fine.”

Willow pulled her hand from Greg’s and
ran toward the house. “I’m going to play with Binky.”

They watched her go in
silence. Greg shrugged and hugged Sara.

“
You’d best get going.” He
said. He opened the car door for her.

She got in and started the car. “You
sure you’re okay?”

“
I’m fine. We’re fine.” He
said.

He leaned forward and kissed her. She
smiled and closed the door. She left.

The night before the funeral, Sara’s
hotel phone rang. She stirred and looked at the clock. Just after
midnight.

“
H-Hello?” Sara
murmured.

Heavy breathing came through the
receiver.

“
Hello? Who is
this?”

A strange man’s voice muttered: “I
miss you, mommy.”

Willow’s voice echoed: “I miss you,
mommy.”

“
Willow? Is that
you?”

The low voice gargled out: “Come home
soon, mommy.”

Willow’s voice echoed: “Come home
soon, mommy.”

“
Willow? Willow, who’s
there with you? Who is that? Willow, let me—“ The phone hung
up.

Sara jumped up and called the house.
It rang and rang. “Answer, goddamnit!”

“
Hello?” Greg said,
half-asleep.

“
Greg. There’s someone in
the house. There’s someone in the house! Willow just called me and
I heard someone else!”

Muffled scrapes shot through the
receiver and there was silence.