Peggy
The puke is everywhere.
It’s in places I didn’t think were possible and it contains colors that humans shouldn’t be able to produce.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
I count silently in my head, holding my breath.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Then I breathe out.
I need to get this mess cleaned up quickly before I go crazy or before I add my own vomit to the mixture. I don’t even know what this is or what happened here, but boys locker rooms are notoriously difficult to clean for just this reason: they smell.
Badly.
Not for the first time, I’m questioning why I’m here and why I took this job. Being a school janitor seemed like a simple, easy gig. It pays well and I can work nights when no one else is around. This means that my days are free to paint, to draw, and to create. My days are mine, but my nights? My nights are spent at Westbridge High School.
I grab my mop and get to work cleaning up the mess. I’m not sure why the daytime janitor wasn’t brought in to help with this or why the students and faculty decided to leave this assortment of stench and body fluids for me, but it comes with the job. Most of the time, I don’t mind, but tonight, I’m tired.
The kittens I rescued yesterday afternoon were up all night meowing for their mother. When I called the local animal shelter this morning, they told me I’d have to pay a fee to drop them off. They called it a re-homing fee. I explained that the kittens aren’t mine: that I’d rescued them from a box on the side of the road. The lady at the shelter didn’t care.
Whoever drops the animals off is responsible for the fee. I realize this is an inconvenience; however, the fee structure is designed to help offset the cost of caring for your pets while we locate a new forever home for the little guys.
So now I’m trying to rush through my work so I can hurry home and finish Googling how to take care of little kittens who don’t have a mother anymore. I already picked up some pet supplies, but I’m nervous that the kittens will be lonely and sad. If I didn’t need the money so badly, I wouldn’t have even come in to work. I would have called in sick.
The truth of the matter is that I do need the money, though, so here I am: Peggy Dane, mopper extraordinaire.
As I finish cleaning the locker room, I think about the two little kittens that are now in my possession. Mocha and Frappe both have black fur and big, bright eyes. I think they’re old enough to be weaned, but I’m not really sure, and that’s something I’ll have to look up, too.
I assume their mother is probably dead. Either that or the owner of the mother just didn’t want kittens. I’m not sure. Who abandons kitties on the side of the road?
I shake my head.
The world is a messy place, I realize, and as I stare at the half-eaten regurgitated sandwiches on the floor in front of me, I realize that messes seem to be drawn to me everywhere I go.
*
By the time I finish with the locker rooms, it’s well past midnight. As soon as I finish the upstairs bathroom, I’ll be able to leave. I like that I’m paid per-night and not per-hour because it’s good motivation to get things done as quickly as possible. The pay structure also means that if I’m having a bad night where I’m working more slowly than usual, I don’t worry too much since, once again, the end result is the same.
Tonight, I’m just finishing locking up the building when all of my senses go on full alert. Suddenly, I feel like someone is watching me, and it scares the shit out of me. I stand perfectly still in front of the side door. It’s the door I always use because there’s a really close parking lot and it’s only about twenty feet from my car to the door. Since I’m a woman working in an old building alone at night, I try to be as safe as possible about this.
Until now, I’ve never really been overly concerned about safety at Westbridge High. It’s a small-town school and yeah, it’s right next to a huge forest, but what kind of monsters are really lurking in forests? Bears? It’s not like this is some fairytale world where a dragon is going to come charging out of the woods and take me to its lair.
This is real life, and that means that if there is someone watching me, lurking around, they’re probably going to mug or murder me. I finish locking the school as quietly as possible. Then I turn slowly. My eyes sweep the parking lot, which is completely empty except for my car. Despite the street lights, the night is dark, and I can’t see very well. It’s not very far to my vehicle from the door, but the walk seems like forever, and for the first time since I started this job, I’m filled with a sense of fear and dread.
Still, I don’t really have much of a choice. Do I? I have to get to my car and go home. It’s not that difficult. I’ve done this a thousand times before. I can run to my car or walk slowly, but I have to get there and get inside. Once I’m inside, everything will be okay. Once I slip into my car and turn it on, I’ll be safe. I know I will. I just have to make it there.
I decide that a slow walk to my car is going to be best. That way, if there really is a monster lurking in the darkness, it won’t think I’m scared. That makes sense, right? Yeah. Total sense. Okay.
I move slowly, but steadily, trying to seem as normal as possible as I make my way to my car, but my eyes scan the forest and parking lot looking for movement. Is there actually something out there? Maybe I’m just tired. That could be it. I was up late taking care of the kittens and then I had to work. I’m just sleepy. Once I get home and take a nap, this will all seem like a bad dream.
That’s it.
I make it to my car. I fumble with my keys for a second, press the button to unlock the door, and then grab the handle. The whole thing feels loud and rushed, and I look around once more. I’m just about to slide in the car. I pull the door open. I move forward.
And then she’s beside me.
Grabbing me.
Covering my mouth with her hand.
“Don’t scream,” the woman’s voice is pained and low. The scent of blood fills my nostrils, and I feel sick. My heart begins to pound harder than it ever has before, and I realize this is it. This is when I die. I’m about to be kidnapped, taken away. I’m going to be shuttled off to a terrible, horrible, painful death that no one will be able to save me from.
This is how I go.
And the first thought that rushes through my head is that I’m worried about the kittens. Who is going to take care of them? No one even knows they’re there. I didn’t tell anyone I was taking them in, so why would anyone check my house for them? They’re going to starve, I realize, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” the woman says. She’s standing behind me and her hand is clasped firmly over my mouth. She’s bigger than me. Even without turning around, I can tell that she towers over me. It wouldn’t be a fair fight: that much is for certain. “But I need your help. Please,” she whispers. “Don’t scream. They’ll hear.”
Then to my surprise, she lowers her hand and carefully spins me around. Her hands are on my shoulders, and I look up at the woman in front of me. She’s bleeding, I realize.
“You’re hurt,” it’s the first thing I say, and although I’m no doctor, I try to start assessing the damage. Blood is pouring out of her leg and her stomach is soaked with blood. She’s wearing a backpack of some sort, and dirt is smeared on her face. “We need to get you to the hospital,” I tell her, instantly forgetting my fear. Some things are more important than death. This woman needs help. “Get in my car,” I tell her, suddenly worried about her. She looks pale, even in the moonlight. What happened to her? Maybe she was in a car accident, or perhaps she was attacked.
“There’s no time,” she says, looking over her shoulder. “They’re coming.” She slides her backpack off of her body and thrusts it into my arms. That’s when I realize it’s not a backpack at all, but a child carrier, and there’s a little baby inside. The infant looks up at me, blinking, but doesn’t cry or make any noise at all. “Please,” she says. “Take her to Fablestone. They’ll know what to do. Find Cameron. Tell him Ellie sent you. Tell him Lucky is coming. Please.”
“But, I,” I shake my head, staring at the baby. “I don’t know anything about babies.”
“Vow to me,” the woman says. “Swear an oath. Take the baby. Please.”
In this moment, I realize I have two choices.
I can promise this stranger I will save her baby. I can swear that I will return this child. I can save the little one, or I can refuse. I can turn away. I can let whatever is happening proceed uninterrupted without any help or assistance from me.
But somehow, I can’t do that.
“I swear it,” I whisper, looking up at the woman. She looks relieved. She’s not calm by any stretch of the imagination, and her eyes are flittering around, constantly looking to make sure someone isn’t there. She’s running from something terrible. Even I can see that. “You need a doctor,” I insist, but she shakes her head.
She takes my wrist, then, and bites me.
“What the fuck?” I ask, pulling my wrist back.
“You swore an oath,” the woman says.
I look at my wrist. It’s not bleeding, but there are two little puncture wounds where her incisors dug into my skin.
“Yeah, but I didn’t know you were going to fucking bite me,” I say. I look up, but the woman is gone. She’s disappeared into the night, and I’m standing in the parking lot, covered in blood, holding another woman’s baby, and I have bite marks in my wrist.
And I don’t know what to do.
What do I do?
Do I go to the police station?
Do I go to the hospital?
Should I drive around and look for the woman?
The baby seems unharmed, but where is Fablestone? And what does any of this have to do with me? Who’s Lucky? And why are they chasing Ellie?
Suddenly, it starts to rain, and I quickly get into the car, close the door, and lock it. The baby looks up at me and I realize I don’t even know her name, but something tells me this is all much bigger than I could possibly imagine.