“Come here, Sneezer,” said Helen to the justifiably suspicious and reluctant dog. “I’ve got a treat for you!” she said in a hideous voice.
Helen held up a chunk of cooked ham that was about the size of an egg and approached the dog. He could smell his favorite treat and he could also smell something distinctly bad around Helen. It was a dilemma for Sneezer. He was a forgiving animal that was a slave to ham treats. He was fearful of Helen because her scent had been dramatically altered. Her physical appearance wasn’t even close to the Helen he was accustomed to. Even if Sneezer could get past those alarming warnings and it was indeed Helen, how could she possibly be trusted after the way she mistreated him during their last encounter?
Sneezer approached cautiously. The temptation he was presented with fell directly into the irresistible category. It was a situation that required some thought before leaping into. He took a couple more steps toward Helen, stopped and delivered a short series of yelps, intended to let her know he was no fool and ready to tear her up if necessary. Then he sniffed the air and picked up the ham smell and the new Helen scent. He sneezed from the scent and stepped back to reevaluate the situation. Maybe it was just a new neighbor. After all, she did smell and look different. Perhaps it’s just a new, stinky neighbor with soap allergies, offering a ham treat as a form of introduction. Surely, one little piece of ham couldn’t be that dangerous. He had the sharp, dog teeth and cunning for escape if need be. Of course, that wasn’t very effective when he had the painful confrontation with Helen earlier. It’s funny how selective memories can be when it comes to vices.
When Helen dropped the ham to the ground, Sneezer looked at it and then at Helen. He wagged his tail and inched closer. He sniffed the fresh ham and his self-control weakened. He looked at the ham, then at Helen and back at the ham again.
“Go ahead, Sneezer. It’s just for you!” said Helen in a softer voice.
His tailed wagged faster and he took a few more steps forward. He was within inches of his beloved ham. The thought of that delicious morsel of meat sliding down his throat was more than he could bear.
Helen stepped back to appear less intimidating. That was all it took for Sneezer. Days on end of dry dog food, with a bowl of water made him exercise a moment of bad judgment. He lunged forward recklessly and snatched the ham with his teeth.
Helen was on top of Sneezer quicker than a wet tongue sticks to a freezing cold, metal, swing set pole. She squeezed his body tightly against her chest, stood and carried him quickly to the Wagner kitchen. She soothed his captive anxieties with two butter cookies and while still holding him, maneuvered to her side and opened a kitchen drawer. She removed a carving fork from the drawer and whisked Sneezer up the stairs to her bedroom. She gave Sneezer two more butter cookies and watched coldly as he nearly swallowed them whole. The old Helen used to be amused by his cookie and ham cravings. It used to warm her heart and make her smile when she viewed his silly antics for bonus treats. One day, she gave Sneezer so many treats, it gave him diarrhea and left no room or appetite for his regular dog food. His owner thought the dog was sick and considered taking him to the veterinarian. The following day, Sneezer’s owner saw him playing as usual and was overjoyed that the cherished pet had overcome his “virus”.
There were a lot of things about Sneezer that Helen used to enjoy. Those joyous and carefree days were over. The silly antics had become an annoying obstacle.
Sneezer’s head bobbed around in jerky motions and his body wiggled about as he sniffed for more butter cookies or ham. His fun and enjoyment would soon be over. It was Helen’s turn for fun.
She grabbed him by the scruff of the neck with her left hand, dangled his squirming body over the puzzle and prepared to thrust the carving fork into his chest with her right hand. This was the very same Helen that couldn’t do a bug collection for her science class because she couldn’t stand the thought of sticking a pin through a beautiful, harmless butterfly. The Helen that was about to thrust a carving fork into the dog’s chest was the same Helen that was grossed out by blood running from raw, thawing meats on the cutting board. Now she craved things like that. She had developed an appetite and thirst for meanness that was never quenched.
Helen offered a wan smile and while looking at the puzzle said, “Snack time, you greedy bastard!”
The extra time Helen spent talking to the puzzle was all Sneezer required because as she raised her hand to stab him, he jerked free from her knobby fingers and fell unharmed into the puzzle.
“Shit!” she shouted as the carving fork made a nice gash in the thin, cold air. Fruuump. Helen’s disappointment quickly passed when she smelled how pleased the puzzle was. It just wasn’t nearly as much fun as she anticipated.
The shot of gas made Helen feel as dizzy as the time she and Jean stole some of their dad’s beer and drank far more than they could handle.
She was becoming reliant on the gas as much as the puzzle was reliant on the food being tossed in. She barely noticed that the puzzle was becoming stronger. She paid no heed to the window curtains lifting in response to the air being sucked into the puzzle. It never occurred to her that the puzzle might become strong enough to feed itself and no longer require her services. She neither thought about nor cared about the future. All she wanted was more ugly fun and puzzle gas.
Helen searched her room eagerly for other things to throw in. She walked to her bookcase and caught another glimpse of herself on the way. The image in her mirror would have been ghastly to the old Helen. It would have been ghastly to any person for that matter. Her skin had turned as yellow as the Manila folder on her desk. A bad sore was forming slightly below her right ear. It was an oozing, reddish-brown, circular sore, approximately the size of a standard dime. Black bugs, about the size of a pin head, were diving on it and drinking the fluid. She didn’t care, her only focus was on the next puzzle meal.
She scooped up several books, threw them in and closed her eyes in preparation of the next gas blast. Fruuump. Instant delight. She laughed and said, “A little something for you to read while you’re getting your tan, Jean!” She spun around, snatched a saucer from her dresser that held cookies a few days ago and tossed it like a Frisbee into the puzzle. “And another ashtray for you, Aunt Caroline…you mouthy bitch!” Helen thought for second and burst out laughing. “Hell, you probably can’t find any cigarettes there anyway!” Fruuump. More puzzle gas. She was disappointed because the dosage wasn’t nearly what she desired.
The growing puzzle was like a newborn baby that required constant nourishment to maintain its strength. Like any good mother, she wanted the best for her baby and would do anything to give it what it needs. Although the puzzle enjoyed its tasty, inorganic tidbits, she knew it craved flesh and blood. What she didn’t realize was that the more flesh and blood she gave it, the more she changed. The more she changed, the more she began to look and smell like Malvada.
No one was left inside so she ventured out to locate more food. She tried killing a bird resting on a telephone wire with a rock and missed badly. She watched the rock plummet into Sneezer’s backyard and thought for a minute. A cat would be a much easier victim to catch and there was a young calico stray that loved to torment Sneezer. He was more cunning than Sneezer and delighted in teasing and then outrunning him. Yes indeed, a cat would be easier because the cat also had a weakness. It was a stray that subsisted on random and infrequent meals. A fresh can of tuna would work nicely. She had fed the stray before so it wouldn’t suspect a thing. She ran to the kitchen, opened a can packed in pure spring water and ran back outside. She walked around her yard at a brisk pace, waving the open can to spread the odor. Then she put the can on the ground and ran inside to get a butcher knife. She waited and waited and waited. She waited for more than 30 minutes and could wait no longer. She decided that the cat wasn’t going to make an appearance so she considered an alternative meal for the puzzle. She ran back into the kitchen, got a roast from the freezer and stuck in the microwave to thaw it out some. S
he wanted some blood.
As soon as the back door to Helen’s house closed, the stray came stealthily from the shrubbery that separated Helen’s and her neighbor’s house and proceeded to devour the tuna. He kept a watchful eye on the back door and was ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. He licked the can clean and disappeared back into the shrubbery. There would be no cat snack that day.
Helen went through the kitchen and carted anything up to the puzzle she thought it might enjoy. There were sporadic blasts of puzzle gas to pacify her and hold her over until the next burst. She longed for the big ones that filled the room and her body as well.
When Joe arrived home, he was shocked and amazed by the slovenly appearance of the living room. He knew that Helen was too organized and responsible to leave the house in such disarray. And what about Aunt Caroline? She was damn near a perfectionist. Joe immediately thought the worst. Surely, some emergency must have arisen, leaving no time for such mundane household tasks.
Joe first called for the girls, then Aunt Caroline. His only response was a feint swooshing sound coming from the staircase leading to the girls’ rooms. He walked hastily through the kitchen, checked the bulletin board and found no notes. He looked through every room downstairs, including the basement and all the closets. He called their names and listened for a reply, hearing nothing more than the same swooshing sound. His concern intensified.
He bolted upstairs, looked around and called the girls’ names once again. He became aware of vomit-like fumes immediately. He initially thought that someone had been sick, so he checked the toilet bowl in the bathroom between the girls’ rooms. He was examining the bathroom and received a powerful, inbound whiff. It didn’t take long for him to realize the true source. He entered Helen’s room and was overwhelmed by an odor of the foulest nature. It was worse than vomit. It was worse than anything he’d ever smelled before. He retreated to the bathroom, grabbed a clean washcloth from underneath the sink and ran it under cold water. He squeezed the excess water from it, covered his nose and mouth and returned to Helen’s room. He looked, saw the jigsaw puzzle on the table and knew that it wasn’t there last night. He walked to the edge to take a closer look. The first thing he noticed was a small, black dog, very similar to Sneezer, barking at another nearby dog. He saw several people standing on a beach, all looking seaward. There was another woman, who was strikingly comparable in appearance to Aunt Caroline, exiting a clump of palm trees in the background.
As he studied the characters portrayed in the brilliantly colored puzzle scene, he felt a steady current of air rushing past his ears and directly into the puzzle.
“DADDY!!” screamed Helen in an angry voice. “Be very careful around my puzzle. You could accidentally knock it to the floor and that would ruin everything!”
Joe was so startled by Helen’s unexpected arrival and outburst, that he nearly lost his balance and fell against the table. He steadied himself, whipped his head around and saw a revolting figure that sort of resembled a human being. It reminded him of his biology class, when they dissected a cocoon to see a caterpillar during its metamorphosis. The figure had enough form left to still be recognizable as what used to be his sweet, little girl. Her repulsive body made him gag slightly and brought tears to his normally expressionless eyes. “Good, God!! What’s happened to you, sweetheart?”
Helen marched forward and produced a pillowcase with something frantically trying to escape. “Out of the way, old man,” she ordered as she inverted the pillowcase and dumped the contents into the puzzle. Fruuump. Helen leaned into the puzzle to maximize her exposure to the puzzle gas.
Joe saw a cat fall from the pillowcase and disappear as soon as it hit the puzzle surface. It looked like the cat was diving into a pool of water, yet the surface of the puzzle seemed solid.
“Was that Mrs. Helstrom’s cat?” asked Joe in disbelief. Joe dropped the washcloth, grabbed Helen’s shoulders with his burly hands; the same hands she used to admire, and said, “Helen, what the hell is going on?” Her shoulders were soaking wet. He thought he felt a slimy mass moving under his palms and quickly jerked them back. “I don’t know what’s happening to you, sweetheart, but I’m getting you to a doctor right away.”
Helen surprised Joe with a mighty burst of strength and broke free from his powerful grasp. She shoved him backward, gritted her now rotting teeth and shouted angrily, “NO! You’re not taking me anywhere!”
Joe’s bewilderment and concern for his daughter’s health and well-being shifted directly to anger. His daughter was out of control. He knew that the source of Helen’s behavior was beyond his understanding and he knew he had to do something immediately. He recalled her sniffing at the puzzle after it emitted that horrible stench and said, “I’m not certain what’s happening here, although I’m betting that it has something to do with that damn puzzle. First, I’ve got to do something with that damn puzzle and then I’m driving you to the emergency room!”
The puzzle reacted to Joe’s statements as if it understood his intentions. Little puffs of puzzle gas shot out as the table shook violently.
Joe turned his back to Helen and prepared to grab the table legs. He was going to turn the puzzle into 1500 pieces of flying, harmless cardboard. Even though he wasn’t sure if that would be of any help to his little girl, he had to start somewhere.
He hesitated for a few seconds while he determined the safest way to approach the table. His slight hesitation was all that Helen and the puzzle needed.
“It’s hungry again, you fool! The more I feed it, the more I have to feed it. The puzzle gets stronger with each feeding. It’s strong enough now to smell you and it’s excited. You’re just another human burger with ketchup. It’s growing independent and in no time at all, I won’t have to feed it. The puzzle will be strong enough to feed itself.”
Joe felt a growing suction against his body. An overbearing feeling of anxiety put the brakes on rational thinking as he felt himself being drawn closer and closer to the beach scene.
Joe’s body was moving involuntarily toward the core of the puzzle. With each progressive inch, the suction grew stronger and stronger. He looked to Helen with pleading and confused eyes. Helen stood solidly and watched uncaringly as he tried to push away from the table with his powerful, yet failing hands.
The battle continued, with the puzzle gaining ground. Instead of lifting the table, he had to exert force downward to keep from being sucked in. The table rocked from Joe’s useless efforts to escape and it looked as though one of the edge pieces of the puzzle was coming loose. If only luck would have been on Joe’s side and a piece had been knocked free. He couldn’t risk letting go. He began to feel like he was trying to do a pushup with two bags of dry concrete mix on his back.
Helen smiled as she watched her father inch closer to a sandy reunion with other family members. Her excitement grew even stronger when she saw Joe’s arms quivering and his chest dropping.
Joe turned his head to his little girl and with sorrowful eyes said, “Honey, do something. Don’t let this happen to me!”
“Okay, you old fool. Enough is enough. I’ll do something!” She moved behind her father, raised her right leg and kicked him as hard as she could in the butt. Fruuump. The struggle had ceased and Joe was gone. The puzzle discharged the greatest mega burst of gas yet. It was obviously very pleased with its recent meal.
Helen savored the gas until it dissipated, then ventured outside in search of yet more food. Once outside she saw her neighbor, Mrs. Helstrom, limping around her yard. “Looking for Sneezer or Mr. Crackers, Mrs. Helstrom?”
Mrs. Helstrom was well into her eighties and even with her incredibly thick eyeglasses, couldn’t see anything more than a few feet in front of her. Her dog, Sneezer, had been a family pet for years and was a loyal friend and companion. Her cat, Mr. Crackers, had been with the Helstroms for nearly nine years. Mr. Crackers had been declawed as long as it had been in their household and was a remarkably friendly cat. His inability to defend h
imself and friendly persuasion also made him an easy victim for Helen.
Helen and her neighbor used to be the best of friends. Mrs. Helstrom’s bad hips and arthritis made even the easiest of household chores impossible, so Helen would help out whenever she could. She also ran many errands for them. It was commonplace for Helen to run to the local grocery store for a loaf a bread or jar of jelly. The larger grocery orders were always delivered and quite frequently, the deliveries were wrong. Invariably, an item was left off the list, shipped in the wrong quantity or arrived broken. She was always offered a little extra cash for her efforts but never accepted. She did those things because she liked Mrs. Helstrom and loved the melodic sound of Mr. Helstrom’s voice. It didn’t matter what he said. She could listen to him read the ingredients from a can label and be enthralled.
Mrs. Helstrom looked quizzically in Helen’s direction and thought she had recognized Helen’s voice, although it sounded much deeper than usual. “Is that you, Helen?”
“Yes, Mrs. Helstrom. Have you lost your dog?”
“I think ‘Sneezy’ has run off. I’ve been calling for him and he hasn’t come to me yet. It’s very odd. He’s never done that in all the years we’ve had him. I’m worried that something has happened to him. Have you seen him today?”
“Hell, yes, I’ve seen your stinking dog. I’ve got your filthy mutt up in my room as we speak. I’m going to give him a desperately needed bath.”
“Gracious, me! Did you say he’s in your bedroom?”
“There’s nothing wrong with my speech. Are you going deaf as well as blind? Yes, your dog is in my room.”
“What’s he doing there?”
“He’s waiting for you to get your fat, wrinkled butt up there and get him, old woman!”
“Why, Helen! You should be ashamed. That’s no way for a young lady to speak. Have you picked up bad habits from your little friends?”
“Screw you, you old fart. I’ll talk the way I please. If you don’t like it, why don’t you prance over here and try to do something about it!”
“It’s so disappointing to hear you speak in that manner. I’d be doing you an injustice by not speaking with your father. Such disrespect in a child needs to be addressed with firm resolve. I’m afraid it will be very upsetting to him.”
“Do what you have to do, you crippled, old turd. My dad’s up in my room and he’s having a grand time with your precious Sneezer. You wouldn’t believe where my dad is touching your dog. Let’s just say he’s putting a smile on your dog’s face and let it go at that! Why don’t you just wiggle your fat ass upstairs and see for yourself. You and Joe can chat while he does things for you that you haven’t experienced in 40 years!”
“HELEN WAGNER!!! Stop talking like that this instant! You’re bringing tears to my eyes and torturing my heart with your attitude. If I was younger and didn’t have hip problems, I’d march over there immediately and take this matter into my own hands. Instead, I’ll wait for Mr. Helstrom to return from his chess game with neighbor Garvey and let him handle it. I’ll recommend that he call the police if need be and I’ll have no pity for what happens to you as a result! If you were my child, I’d make you eat a bar of soap and wash the foulness right out!”
“Yeah, yeah. You keep chattering like that and your false teeth will fall out, you old fart!” Helen blinked her eyes a few times and rubbed her finger on a section of teeth in her mouth. When she removed her finger and examined it, she observed a dark, blood residue on her finger. She inserted her thumb and index finger, grabbed the second molar from her mandible and removed it with ease. It was like removing a kernel of corn from a stick of soft butter. She slipped the bloody tooth into her pocket so she’d have a bit of puzzle “candy” as a treat for it later. Helen spit some blood from her mouth and said, “If your damn dog is so freakin’ important to you, why wait for that other old fart to come home? Come get it yourself. I’ll be glad to help you over!”
“Oh my word! I pray that your dear, departed mother’s soul is being spared your insolence and rudeness. It would crush her to hear her sweet, little girl talking like you’re talking.” Mrs. Helstrom paused and drew from a deep well of experience. Her anger was not letting her think clearly. She knew that Helen couldn’t possibly make such a drastic transition because of a simple encounter with other children, unless the encounter was traumatic in some way or another. It also occurred to her that there may be a serious situation in the Wagner household. She adjusted her glasses and summoned forth her last few ounces of kindness and understanding. She cleared her throat and said, “I’m sorry if I snapped at you, Helen. That was wrong of me. Even though I’m hindered by my age and physical limitations, I promised your mother that I’d help you in any way I could. I know that you wouldn’t be acting the way you are unless there was a crisis of some sort going on in your life. Share your problem with me and I’ll do anything I can to get you the help you need.”
“My only problem right now is you, old lady!! Why don’t you just hobble home, turn the gas on and stick your head in the oven or something. You’d solve all kinds of problems that way!”
Mrs. Helstrom was visibly upset. Her years of dealing with people had conditioned her and taught her how to properly construct protective barriers. Effective barriers that shielded her emotions from insensitive jerks. Barriers that prevented debilitating pain caused by betrayal upon betrayal by those she trusted. Those same barriers also had access doors. Helen was one of the precious few who had been given a key. Helen’s betrayal was especially hard for Mrs. Helstrom to bear. She had done all she could do. Helen was in a place too far away for her to travel. “I’m washing my hands of this matter. Mr. Helstrom will have to settle this situation. You won’t find it as easy to break his heart.”
“Now I’m scared! Damn, where in the world could I possibly hide to escape his terrible wrath? Hmmm. How about if I hide right the hell where I am?”
Mrs. Helstrom would hear no more. She limped away, favoring her left side and went directly into her house without looking back once. She spied through her window curtains at a blur she assumed was Helen. She muttered a few indiscernible words to herself and hobbled to her rocking chair. She clamped her hands onto the arms and kicked the rocker into high gear. She looked to her door and said, “You just wait, young lady. You just wait until Mr. Helstrom comes home, that’s all I’ve got to say!”
In his younger days, Jens Helstrom was considered to be an attractive and brawny man. He spent most of his adult life working on Philadelphia piers as a longshoreman and was known to drink and fight with the best of them. He was never a man of unprovoked violence, yet he never backed down from any confrontation, no matter the odds. He made rules for his children as they grew and rarely allowed deviation from those rules. He wasn’t mean, just determined to provide the best possible path to their future. He will be the one to set things right, thought Mrs. Helstrom.
Helen looked around for another source of puzzle food, like an addict in withdrawal looking for a drug dealer. The immediate supply of flesh and blood was slim to none. She wasn’t strong enough to drag Mrs. Helstrom from her house and another attempt at killing a bird was as fruitless as the first. She went back inside and rushed to the kitchen. The last of their meat, some raw hamburger, had finally thawed enough to produce a bit of bloody juice. “Damn! It will just have to do.”
As she passed through her living room, an eight by ten color photo of the Wagner family temporarily caught her eye. The photo of Audrey, Joe, Jean and Helen had been taken just prior to Helen’s ninth Christmas. It was the Christmas that she got a new, white party dress, two new outfits for school and a pair of roller blades…something she had wanted for many months.
It was also the Christmas she nearly got her first kiss from a boy and wasn’t even aware of it. Calvin Reid waited for Helen after school each day so he could carry her books home and catch up on small talk. He tried flirting but at age ten, he was still learning the ropes and most things that came o
ut of his mouth bordered on the ridiculous. Each day he saw her, he mentally rehearsed his speech expressing how much he liked her. And each time he tried to verbalize those thoughts, his insecurities anchored the words in his brain.
After walking her home on the last day of school before Christmas break, the two stood at the beginning of the concrete walk to her house and smiled warmly at each other. He maneuvered close to her and wished her a Merry Christmas. Then he closed his eyes, and slightly puckered his lips. He held his breath and leaned forward to plant a kiss on her cheek. Having felt nothing, he opened his eyes in time to see Helen halfway up the walk He looked around and saw two younger boys, about four houses down, laughing hysterically. Calvin never walked Helen home again.
While she was still standing in front of the photographic memory, a loose piece of flesh on her arm caught her attention. It was about as long and as wide as a standard candy bar you’d buy while waiting in a checkout line at the grocery store. She lifted the flap of flesh from the oozing sore, tore the skin off and let it fall to the floor. She rubbed some of the bloody tissue from the exposed area and revealed a different layer of skin underneath. It was smooth and grayish, almost like an elephant’s hide. She was examining her body for more wounds to explore, when she heard something outside. A few steps later, she was at the living room window to investigate. She observed a man walking from a black van parked in front of her house. The sound she heard was the driver’s door being slammed shut. The man appeared average looking in every aspect and was headed for her front door.
Helen jumped back from the window and said, “Ask and ye shall receive!”
The man stood outside and surveyed the house. He took a deep breath, exhaled forcefully and said, “Finally!”
Helen ran to the front door and as she put her hand on the doorknob, she peered up the stairs coldly and in a monotone voice said, “Take your time with this one, you hungry bastard. Real food is getting hard to come by!”
Helen answered the doorbell immediately after it had been pressed. She stood at the entrance and waited for the stranger to speak. To a normal human being, an initial encounter with Helen in her present physical state would be overwhelming and unbelievable. Her clothes smelled like a combination of vomit and a summer trash can after it has been sitting in the sun for a week. She had a wide variety of oozing sores on her hands, arms and face. Some of the sores had flaps of loose flesh dangling from them. Her hair had the luster of soot and her index finger had taken on a twisted, knobby appearance. For all intents and purposes, Helen was gone. What stood at the door could only be described as an unknown.
It wasn’t the first time Paul had seen someone react like Helen. It was, however, the first time he had seen it progress to her level of deterioration. Judging by Helen’s condition, Paul surmised that the puzzle had been receiving generous amounts of organic material.
“Looks like I got here just in time!” said Paul as he removed his hands from his coat pockets.
“Is that a fact?” she replied.
“Yes. My name is Paul Porter. I realize my name means nothing to you at the moment. In fact, your name means nothing to me either. I’m only here because you have something I want and need very badly.”
“Yeah, right! I’ll bet any young girl or boy has something you want, asshole!”
Paul chuckled and said, “You? Not hardly! You’re not my type. No child is, has or ever will be my type. Even if you were, I wouldn’t be interested in you. Have you checked yourself out in a mirror lately? You’re enough to gag a maggot!”
“Come inside before you let all our heat out,” said Helen as she backed away from the front door.
Paul entered, closed the door behind him and said, “Let’s cut the bullshit and get down to business. I know you’re trying to think of a way to feed me to whatever it is that you’re feeding. Well, that’s not going to happen. You need me all right but not as a food source. You need me so I can do a job, get out of here and return you to a more normal life.”
Paul had no idea of what had already transpired at the Wagner house and he really didn’t care. He had no idea that if she was ever returned to a normal state of being that she wouldn’t have much of a life to go back to. Her family was gone and she was responsible. If she was able to remember that little tidbit, how would she be able to cope? She wouldn’t be able to stay in their house by herself. Where would she go…what would she do?
“Come on now, Kid. I’m here on an important mission. I need to act as quickly as possible for all concerned. I can either do it with your help, or without. Either way, I guarantee you that I’ll complete it.”
“Mission my ass. What are you selling?” laughed Helen.
“I’m finished with the conversation part of my visit,” said Paul as he vigorously sniffed around, searching for an airborne trail.
Helen looked vacantly past Paul. She was beginning to have short lapses in her concentration abilities. She blinked slowly and then said, “Hey, you! It’s upstairs. It can smell you and it’s waiting for you. Follow me.” She whirled around without hesitation and sauntered up the stairs.
Paul stepped in close behind. When he reached the last step, he closed his eyes, inhaled and sucked in a very familiar odor. When he opened his eyes, he zeroed in on the source of the vibrations and went directly into Helen’s room. He stood quietly in her doorway, admired the puzzle as if he were seeing a long-lost friend and said, “Ahhh. We finally meet. You were very fortunate and escaped the last time I came for you. It probably wasn’t time. No matter. I’m glad to say that it’s over now.”
The suction into the puzzle had matured from a breeze to a powerful wind. Paul’s hair was being tossed about from that wind when he said, “It’s time to go meet the rest of your family in my van.”
The table began to vibrate violently and the wind whizzing past him grew in magnitude. The puzzle was trying to gather strength to resist Paul and started sucking in small items from different locations in Helen’s room. A crystal pyramid, a plastic hairbrush with long, brown hairs tangled in the bristles and a bottle of inexpensive perfume shot into the puzzle like bullets. Strangely, there were no bursts of gas.
“Damn! I’ve never seen one this powerful before. How long has it been that strong?” he asked.
Helen answered only with a devilish grin.
“I asked you a question, Kid.”
“Relax, asshole. It just started to feed itself. Each time I feed it flesh and blood, its strength doubles. Ordinary household shit gives it little power boosts but even they seem to be having more influence.”
The more the puzzle fed, the stronger it got and the faster it fed. Larger items like her chair, her white, plastic trash can, her cedar chest and her small wooden bookcase filled with heavy books, scooted toward the table.
Paul was perplexed. It was all so different from the rest. The cardboard menace was acting independently of any human.
Paul advanced toward the puzzle. It felt like someone had turned on a gigantic vacuum cleaner and pointed the intake hose in his direction. He viewed the puzzle scene and saw several people scattered about on a beach. “Were all those people part of the original puzzle picture or did you have something to do with them being there?”
“What does it matter, asshole?”
“I’m curious. I’ve never dealt with a ‘thing’ that behaves in such a manner.” Paul glanced at a rocking photo on Helen’s desk. He had a couple of minutes to study it before it went whizzing by him and into the puzzle. It was a color photo of two young girls, standing side by side. From what he could see, one of the girls in the photo resembled someone on the beach. “ If the people that go in aren’t destroyed, it would make a significant difference. I don’t understand why the puzzle didn’t crush the life out of them.” Paul ducked sharply as a desk lamp narrowly missed his head.
“I don’t give a shit why they are the way they are,” said Helen as she moved slowly and cautiously into a position directly behind Paul.
r /> Paul had made it a point to keep a constant awareness of her position and noticed her movement immediately. He spun around, saw her arms in the air with her hands clenched into tight fists and witnessed a hideous grin like he’d never seen before. As he drew back his right fist, he said, “Not this time, Kid. I’m about to do you a huge favor.” With that, he delivered a solid blow to Helen’s jaw, knocking her backward to her bed. He looked at his aching knuckles and saw dark blood residue collected from her sores. He wiped them off on her sheet and then picked the unconscious Helen up in his arms like she was a bag of trash to be thrown out. He carried her to the edge of the puzzle and said, “Let’s see what this does!” He let her go and was amazed how quickly she disappeared. Fruuump. A terrific shot of puzzle gas.
The intensity of the vibrations doubled, the suction grew stronger and Paul heard a high-frequency sound like none before. He studied the puzzle scene and dodged other objects as they were sucked in. He observed swaying palm trees and a beautiful ocean front with crystal clear saltwater. Whenever he looked at the scene, he could perceive no movement of any kind, yet when he looked away and back again, the scene had changed. People were in different spots on the sand. The one little, black dog that was barking at something, had begun digging a deep trench. The figures in the puzzle picture seemed truly animated and they seemed to be enjoying what they were doing.
Whether it was the last of Malvada’s ‘things’ or not, it was certainly the most powerful. He needed to collect it and hopefully end the curse. He took one last look at the people on the beach and moved his hand to the puzzle edge to begin the dismantling process. He pulled his hand back when he spotted a young girl waving upward. He quickly realized that she wasn’t just waving to the sky; she was waving to him! He got as close to the surface of the puzzle as he could and took a closer look. He recognized the clothes that the girl was wearing but not the face. The girl was wearing the same clothes as the girl who was just trying to feed him to the puzzle. The smiling face, however, was that of a young, vibrant, healthy and robust teenager.
Paul had another shock in store. Surprisingly, he started to feel the suction from the puzzle pulling at him. He found it difficult to push himself away. For the first time ever, he was actually being affected by one of Malvada’s ‘things’. He smiled like he hadn’t smiled in years. He felt as excited as when he was seven on Christmas morning. “It’s going to be a great day after all! This has got to be the last item on the list!”
The power of the puzzle seemed to be doubling by the minute. It had grown sufficiently in strength to suck in the prized cedar chest. Shortly thereafter, the turbulence snatched the puzzle box in with a myriad of other debris. The suction drew Jean’s pillows, her wardrobe and everything else from her room that wasn’t fastened down securely. The picture frame that Helen stopped to look at in the living room was yanked from the wall and glanced off of Paul’s head on its way to the puzzle.
Paul heard a police siren wailing from somewhere outside. He ran to Helen’s window and narrowly avoided the glass being sucked from the panes. It sounded like it was coming his way. He panicked when it occurred to him that some authority may have spotted his van and called for help. “Not now!! Not today!!” he yelled in frustration. He began to breath easier when the siren faded in the distance, like a slow summer sunset. He fought the suction and leaned against Helen’s wall. The siren, crying as if in pain from the pressure of the driver’s foot, caused him to think of the damage and horrific pain Malvada’s ’things’ had brought to so many. Although it was Malvada’s curse, Paul was the reason they suffered. He recalled the farmer in Montana who bought Malvada’s vacuum cleaner at an auction and how it sucked the life out of him and his horse. He remembered the business executive who bought her stained glass lamp at an antique shop in North Carolina. On that particular occasion, Paul arrived in time to see the light socket sucking in the last of the guy’s skull. An eyeball had popped out in the process and was eagerly absorbed by the attached electrical cord.
Then he thought about Marie. Beautiful, vivacious Marie. He thought about the scores of missing persons reports that had been filed by grieving relatives over the years and wondered how many had been victims of Malvada’s ‘things’ and how many were missing for other more understandable reasons. And what about Shannon? What did her poor husband think about his wife’s disappearance? His wife vanished without a trace and he would never know why. Paul knew why though. He was a murderer by proxy.
Paul then shifted his thoughts to the swaying palm trees and inviting ocean waters in the puzzle. He was so tired of it all. Tired of the mental dirt cluttering his mind and fostering the growth of toxic weeds.
He remembered the first time he took his wife into his arms and made passionate love to her. Her soft, warm body against his drove him into a sexual frenzy. After they made love, they listened as the summer locusts and crickets serenaded them. Then they made love again. Even though he didn’t have much of a career or much money, he finally realized that he truly had it made in those days.
The pleated curtains being ripped from the traverse rod, snapped Paul back into reality. Items of furniture were clanging and banging against the stairway walls on their way to the puzzle.
He spotted a loose piece of the puzzle jutting up ever so slightly. It was the same piece of puzzle Joe had upset in his struggle to free himself of the puzzle’s grasp. The puzzle drew Paul closer and closer. He found it increasingly difficult to resist the suction.
It was clear that the puzzle wanted him but he wasn’t sure how to proceed. What if the puzzle simply wanted to feed on him?
He stood against the edge of the table, took hold of the loose piece and glanced at the puzzle scene one last time. He was startled to see Helen pointing to some writing in the sand. The message was neatly written in gigantic letters and read: MALVADA SAYS IT’S OVER. MISSION COMPLETED!!” He stood erect, not believing what he had just read. He looked back and the message was gone. He saw Helen on her knees, with her right hand entrenched in the sand. He looked away to give her time to complete what she was writing. He glanced back every couple of minutes to check on the progress. Each time he did, all movement on the beach ceased.
He was nervously awaiting the new message like a job applicant waiting to be interviewed. He reached into his pocket for his lighter but the wind was too strong for him to light a cigarette.
He turned again and this time Helen was standing and pointing to the new message. It read, “JUMP! I PROMISE IT’S OKAY!!”
“Hot damn!!” shouted Paul. He got a wild look of excitement in his eyes and dashed to Helen’s door. He had the look of a young child allowed to run free in a toy store with no time or spending limits. It was a look that had been nearly forgotten.
He paused for a second as suspicion crept in and tarnished the shine on his joy. “This may be too good to be true. I’d better be sure.” He removed his coat, wadded it into a ball and threw it into the wind tunnel. Fruuump. A minor burst of puzzle gas shot into Paul’s face and caused his eyes to water. “Maybe it didn’t have my full scent,” he said nervously. He took his shirt off and lobbed it at the puzzle like he was trying to make a basket with a deflated basketball. Fruuump. The puzzle was happy for the treat and continued to demand more.
“YES!!!” he cried. “Okay, calm down a minute, Paul. You don’t want to screw this up. If I jump into the puzzle, how much longer will it continue to suck things in? What about Malvada’s ‘things’ in my van? What if they continue to feed after I’m gone? However, if I jump in, won’t the curse be over and then shouldn’t the ‘things’ stop feeding? Too many questions and not enough answers. Holy shit, I’m so damn excited and there’s so much happening, that I can’t think straight. I need to calm down and take no chances. If Malvada is somewhere in that puzzle and I don’t return her ‘things’, I may have to go through all this crap again, only in another dimension.”
Paul flew down the stairs, out the door and in his haste, nea
rly collided with his van. Mrs. Helstrom had moved from her rocker to a chair by the window and watched Paul’s blurry image dashing from the Wagner house. All she could make out was a figure scurrying back and forth from the road to the house. “I can’t tell if someone is moving in or moving out. Wait until Mr. Helstrom gets home. He’ll be firm with the Wagners. He’ll take care of all of this nonsense!” said Mrs. Helstrom with a sense of pride.
Paul had emptied the contents of the van into the puzzle and found himself standing in the living room, looking frantically in every direction. He wasn’t sure what he was searching for. All he knew was he needed something to break the puzzle apart after he was in, but what?
The living room couch and heavy recliner were sliding across the floor and moving toward the stairs. Both items tumbled end over end up the stairs and into the puzzle. The puzzle was gaining strength by leaps and bounds. There couldn’t be much time left. How much could the puzzle suck in before it stopped? Would it ever stop? What if he jumped in, was able to stop the puzzle and because he didn’t bring it with him, he’d be put under a new curse? More questions, less time. He had to hurry.
Nothing in the living room held the key so he ran down the hallway to the kitchen and yanked open the first door he came to. All he saw was toilet paper and bath towels. Seconds later they were dashing down the hall and up the stairs like a swarm of bees. Then he went to the next door and discovered that it led to the basement. He flew down the stairs and made a hasty scan of the area. The first thing he saw was five cases of soft drinks stacked neatly in a corner by the steps. They too were released from their dungeon and became one with the puzzle. “It’s got to be here, I just can’t see it! Come on, Paul. Think!!” he exclaimed in near panic.
His eyes bounced around the basement and finally landed on the potential solution. He saw two fishing rods and a green tackle box standing against the wall, next to an aging hot water heater.
Paul gazed at the basement ceiling, looked in the direction of the puzzle upstairs and said, “If what I saw in the puzzle isn’t some bastard trick of yours, Malvada, and this is truly the end of my nightmare, then I thank you for allowing it to end. If it turns out to be some sick joke, then I guess we’ll be sharing a hot rock in the stands of hell together. I guess it really doesn’t matter, does it, Malvada? I don’t have a choice. I have to try.”
Paul scrambled to the fishing rods and could hear the water heater pulling against the water pipes it was attached to. He felt the concrete floor vibrating violently beneath his feet. The last of the tools sitting on and around the workbench were banging their way up the stairs. A silver-toothed chisel slammed into a stair support beam, took a chip off of the side and then it rapidly joined the other tools in their upward migration.
Paul lunged onto the fishing rods and tackle box as they scooted from the wall. He held on tightly as the suction grabbed hold of him and expedited his return trip to Helen’s room. He felt like a pinball in an arcade machine, as he bounced through the house and up the stairs. When he stopped abruptly at the bottom of the stairs by a sudden drop in suction, he panicked, thinking the puzzle had quit feeding. He quickly discovered that the Wagner’s refrigerator was temporarily blocking the entrance to Helen’s room and disrupting the airflow. He was relieved to know the game was still on, and used the bonus time to prepare for his exit.
In the meantime, Mr. Helstrom came home and was debriefed by an overwrought wife. She retained her composure as she explained how their cat and dog had mysteriously vanished. Then she went into great detail about her encounter with Helen. Although she was mostly truthful situation, she decided to add some adjectives to build her case against the child.
Mr. Helstrom took his wife into his arms, rubbed her back and said soothingly, “Well, Mother, I’ll take care of those Wagners for you.”
He tucked in his shirt, adjusted his pants and opened their front door. As he stepped outside, he looked toward the street, stopped and came back inside his house. “That van is illegally parked in front of their house. I have to take care of that issue before I do anything else. It’s blocking the fire hydrant. What if there was a fire? It deserves to be towed away at the owner's expense. It will sure teach the driver a good lesson. The disrespect people have for rules and laws designed for the benefit of all is downright disgusting to me!”
Paul opened his belt, stood a fishing rod on each side of his body and closed his leather belt tightly. He pulled the rods upward until the reels were snugly against the leather. He wanted to make sure they were secure because if they left his grip and didn’t make the trip with him, his plan would most likely fail. Then he opened the tackle box and searched until he found two steel hooks. He cut the existing hooks off with a knife from the box and attached the two new hooks. He released the locks on the reels, pulled a few feet of line out and held a hook firmly in each hand. He was as ready as he would ever be.
The wood trim on the door frame gave way and the refrigerator was sucked into the puzzle. Paul was close behind. He was banged around and knocked his head on a wall as he bounced up the stairs.
Just before he was sucked into the puzzle, he slammed both hooks firmly into the puzzle pieces. The loose fishing line he had fed out before he jumped was whipping in the wind and at one point almost caught under his elbow. As he was falling into the puzzle, he looked up and saw the bottom of the puzzle. There was a clear circular center, surrounded by the twisting and turning cut marks in a gray cardboard. Then he looked down and saw people actually moving on the beach. They were all smiling and a couple were even applauding. Paul began to feel an inner warmth that had eluded him for years. He looked forward to his landing and meeting with his welcoming committee.
Paul reached down and engaged the locks on the fishing reels. He experienced a sharp jolt as he continued to descend.
When he hit the beach, he was surprised how soft it was. It was more like landing on a huge pillow than course sand. He surveyed the area and watched as scores of people came from the wooded area. He felt the comforting ocean breeze and closed his eyes as he breathed in the refreshing salt air.
Helen approached Paul and said, “Welcome, Mr. Porter. We meet again!”
Paul opened his eyes and saw a circle of people forming around him. He looked at the smiles on their faces, exhaled and relaxed. It was finally over.
“There are some people I’d like you to meet,” said Helen as she ushered forth an elderly man and woman. “This is my Grandma and Grandpa Kline.” The two stepped forward, shook Paul’s hand and welcomed him.
Paul grinned and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet the two of you.”
Helen pointed to another man and said, “That’s my father, Joe. The girl standing to his right is my sister, Jean.”
They exchanged greetings and Paul was feeling better and better inside. His emotions were returning and he started to feel a warmth heating the shield of stone around his heart. The loose fishing line finally caught up with him and fell limply to the beach. There were no hooks and there was no more debris entering the puzzle. He looked upward at the bottom of the puzzle again and could only see swirling cut lines. The clear center had vanished. He was glad that his idea apparently worked but was disappointed in the view. He was hoping to see blue skies, salted with puffy, white clouds.
“By the way, I guess I should introduce myself as well. My name is Helen Wagner,” she said with a smile.
“This place is beyond understanding,” said Paul.
“I agree. I only just got here myself so I won’t be much help in the answer department. Grandma and Grandpa Kline will be the ones to turn to for that. They’ve only been here for a few years. I think those people over there have been here much longer than that,” speculated Helen as she pointed to some men and women in the distance.
“It’s so peaceful here and the air is sweet-smelling. I think I could learn to like this place a lot!” Paul exclaimed.
“Except for my Aunt Caroline and one of my dad?
??s friends, you’ll find that you know most of the people in the welcoming committee. I’m not sure where those two ran off to. I’m guessing they’ll be by shortly. Well, I’ve got to be going. Goodbye, Mr. Porter,” said Helen in a final sort of voice.
Paul removed his belt and let the fishing rods fall to the beach. He was glad to see the tackle box sitting in the sand a few feet in front of him. The idea of spending the rest of his existence fishing was appealing. He regretted not being able to bring a rifle as well. He fastened his belt and looked more closely at the people moving in to greet him. He saw the smiling face of the college student who had been sucked in by the portable typewriter. He saw the beautiful fashion model, standing in her long red dress, that had been sucked into Malvada’s armoire. She smiled and waved, then strutted away like she was walking down a fashion runway.
He saw Shannon sitting on a rather large boulder with another man. The man had his left arm draped over Shannon’s shoulders and was holding a beverage in his right hand. He lifted the drink as if to toast Paul, while Shannon smiled and waved.
Then he recognized a shape he had fantasized about. It was Marie. Tender, soft, trusting and loving Marie. Their eyes met and she walked forward. “Hello, Paul. I’m happy to see you finally joined the rest of us.”
Paul’s mind raced with wild excitement and thoughts of the future. “Marie, I did what I did to you because I…”
“There’s no need to apologize or explain anything, Paul. We all understand that you were doing what you had to do. Most of us who became one of your victims suffered a great deal of anguish due to your betrayal. You selected us at random and subjected us to the horror because of the curse. We know it wasn’t anything personal directed toward us and fortunately for you, anger isn’t permitted here,” stated Marie.
Paul was speechless. He looked at Marie with puppy-dog eyes that pleaded for forgiveness and understanding.
Marie reached for Paul’s hand and said, “Let’s walk along the beach and talk for awhile.”
A balloon of hope and dreams rose in Paul’s mind. His body was steeped with an overwhelming joy he had never before experienced. He grinned from ear to ear and felt like dancing and he never felt like dancing before! He imagined a small cottage in the wooded area, with a comfortable hammock made for two and Marie by his side. What a wonderful day it had turned out to be. He knew it would be different than all the rest and he was right.
“I’m so glad I’ve been given a second chance with you, Marie. I never wanted you to sit in that wicker chair,” said Paul sadly.
Marie looked into Paul’s eyes and replied, “I know, Paul. It could have been anyone. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. When that chair started wrapping those strands around me, I was terrified. Unfortunately, I was alive while most of them pierced my body. I suffered through excruciating pain during the process.”
“I’m soooo sorry, Marie.”
She looked away from Paul and said, “I understand, Paul. It was nothing personal.”
“This almost seems too good to be true. You know, Marie, I felt a chemistry between us the night we met and hoped for a day just like this. A day we could walk together, hand in hand on the beach. It’s such a wonderful feeling! You’re so wonderful to forgive me!”
Marie pulled her hand from Paul’s, walked a few feet in front of him and then turned to face him. “Forgive you? I never said I would forgive you.”
“But you said you didn’t take my actions personally. You said anger wasn’t permitted here!” protested Paul in a confused voice.
“None of us are angry with you, Paul. We just want to even the score. You can certainly understand that we all want our revenge,” said Marie as a large group of Paul’s victims came rushing up from behind. The group threw a heavy, commercial fishing net over Paul, knocking him on his back. He kicked and thrashed like the fresh catch of the day.
The group dragged him along the shore to a short pier jutting out into the water. They used a hoist to lift the net with his body and dangle it a few feet above the surface of the ocean.
Marie looked to Paul and saw the shear terror in his eyes. It reminded her of when she sat in the wicker chair and felt the first strands squeezing the air from her lungs. “None of us want you to take this personally, Paul. Some of the people here actually like you. Maybe, under different circumstances, we could have been great friends. Perhaps lovers. We’ll never know!”
Paul watched everyone’s eyes shift to the water. He could hear a churning sound in the water below. He maneuvered his body to see what the object of their focus was and when he did, his eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. Circling directly beneath him was a gigantic shark and as near as he could estimate, it was at least twenty-feet in length. Its mouth was wide-open, exposing hundreds of razor-sharp teeth just waiting to shred him to pieces. He realized the jaws were wide enough to accommodate at least two people the size of Paul.
He felt a frigid chill run through his body and screamed when he saw what was around the shark’s neck. The shark was wearing a pewter pentacle, attached to a worn strip of leather…Malvada’s most prized possession. Then he remembered Adrian’s advice to make sure he left it behind when the time came. In his haste and excitement, it was the one little detail he forgot.
Then the shark swam to a point directly underneath the net. Paul saw the shark’s deep, liquid black eyes. He screamed so loud and hard, that he thought he would expel his intestines. His scream did no good and shortly thereafter, Paul was gone.
The crowd that had gathered left in smaller groups of two and three and conversed among themselves as they left. A few were laughing but it more than likely had nothing to do with Paul.
Helen’s room had become quiet and completely still. The only things left in her room were a folding table and a jigsaw puzzle resting on its surface. The puzzle was completed, except for a lone piece left loose in the middle. The piece was sitting on its side, propped up by a steel fish hook that had been driven into its cardboard body.
A short, thin, balding man walked slowly up the stairs. When he got to Helen’s room, he stared at the puzzle and smiled. “Hi. It’s me, Floyd. You certainly have been busy, haven’t you?” He glanced around the empty room and continued. “I see that you’ve lost your box. I guess I’ll have to make you another. I have someone else I’d like you to meet. Your job will be somewhat different but it’s nothing you can’t handle.”
He removed a plastic bag from his pocket and proceeded to sweep the puzzle pieces from the table into the bag. “I think we’ll go to Atlanta, Georgia. You’ll like it there. It’s beautiful this time of year.”
Floyd shoved the bag of pieces into his pocket carefully, gave the room one last look and left.
Outside the Wagner house, all was calm. As Floyd walked down the sidewalk leading away from the Wagner house, a police tow truck arrived and backed up to Paul’s van. Floyd listened to the clanking chains as he watched the driver climb under the vehicle and attach them.
He glanced at the Helstrom house as he removed a blue, garrison cap from his gray overcoat and placed it snugly on his head.
The driver hoisted the van and stared at Floyd as the winch pulled the chains taught. Floyd smiled, returned the greeting and watched the driver jump into his cab. When the tow truck drove off, it began to snow.
Floyd looked back at the departing tow truck and adjusted the collar of his overcoat. He smiled and began walking in a southerly direction. As he walked, the snow continued to fall and each snowflake was different from the rest.
THE END
Thank you for reading my book. It is the second book of a three book series centering around jigsaw puzzles with exceptional properties. If you enjoyed it, won’t you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer?
Thanks!
Rod Merttes
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White Crest
Lightning in the Western Sky
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