Page 12
Story: The Garden
9
Lily continued to chatter as they approached the house. She seemed intent on distracting Evelyn from whatever might be waiting for them within.
“I thought we were meant to be deadheading,” she said.
“I think that can wait, in the circumstances.”
“What are the circumstances?”
Evelyn did not say.
“It’s just a bird, Evie. They get confused by the windows. Don’t you remember?”
Evelyn ignored her and went inside.
She was blinded by the gloom at first. Then shapes began to appear: tables and chairs, a red blanket, white ashes, the black, heavy curve of the cooking pot. Farther inside the kitchen, beneath one of the store cupboards, the shards of a broken jar and a slick of honey creeping over the floor.
There was an underwater stillness. No sign of any bird or animal. Their store cupboard was open, and Evelyn was sure she hadn’t left it so. She went and looked inside, stepping over the glass and the honey. There had been about a dozen jars in there when she had checked the previous night, but now there seemed fewer. Her blood whined in her ears. There was no bird or rat that could open a cupboard door and carry off a sealed glass jar, she was fairly sure of that.
Lily eventually joined her. She saw the mess on the floor.
“Oh dear,” she said.
“There’s some honey missing from the shelf, too,” said Evelyn.
“How much?”
“Two or three jars, I think.”
“How much is left?”
A pointless question, Evelyn thought. “I haven’t counted.”
Lily’s breathing grew quieter. “Look,” she said, “it’s there.” She pointed to the hulk of an old refrigerator at the back of the kitchen.
Evelyn went to fetch the windup lamp. She turned the handle two, three times, and it fizzed into life. She came forward slowly and pointed it at the corner. A pile of dirty rags heaved in the darkness. There was a pair of old leather boots poking out of the bottom, and in the middle of the bundle were five pale fingers, wrapped around a jar of honey. The rags shifted and wheezed as she brought the lamp closer.
“What is it?” said Lily.
Evelyn shook her head. The creature smelled of dust and blood and something else she didn’t have a name for. Nothing had come over the wall for a very long time. She and her mother had dealt with unwanted visitors, back then. There were monstrous things that lurked in her memory—hers, not Lily’s—but this was not one of them.
“It shouldn’t be here,” whispered Lily. “We need to get rid of it.”
The silence was measured by their frantic breath. Lily came forward holding her shears open in one hand. The tips quivered in the lamplight.
“I’m not sure that’s the answer,” said Evelyn.
“Give me the lamp,” said Lily.
“I don’t think—”
“Give me the bloody lamp!”
Evelyn handed it to her and watched as her sister edged toward the rags. When Lily was a few feet away, the creature suddenly twitched, yelped, and flew up into the air. The stench hit Evelyn in waves.
It tried to run away but seemed unsteady, drunken even, weighed down by its huge boots. It staggered around the kitchen and tried to push past Lily and the shears. Lily swiped vaguely, as if she were waving her paintbrush at a canvas. Evelyn felt sorry her. For them both. By luck, rather than by design, the tip of the shears caught the thing on the back of one of its legs. It cried out and fell. The jar tumbled to the floor and smashed in almost exactly the same spot as the other one.
Lily made a strange, uncertain noise of triumph. The rags lay on the floor and sobbed while blood and honey pooled in the cracks between the kitchen tiles.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12 (Reading here)
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49