Read Write On Press Presents: The Ultimate Collection of Original Short Fiction, Volume I Page 9


  “Don’t leave the reach of the firelight, understand?”

  The boy nodded and turned away. The great-father, meanwhile, was already starting to nod off. He stood up slowly, stretched, and then made his way to his pallet.

  The father then turned to me.

  “We don’t have enough places for you to sleep, so you’ll lie right here next to me.”

  I nodded and moved over to his already reclining body. I lowered myself and curled in a ball next to him. He pulled a travel blanket up over me before placing his arm around my folded ones and started stroking me.

  “There, now, shush. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  From the other side of the fire rose the snores of the great-father. The father took that as a cue to slide his hand down my hip.

  Opening myself further into his mind, I caught the images tumbling from him.

  Dirty human!

  I tried not to flinch away, knowing he was much stronger than I was. He had eaten only most of one bowl, so I didn’t know how much longer it would be until the mushes took effect.

  His hand suddenly wandered between my legs and a gasp slipped out of me. I struggled to scoot away but he flung his leg over me.

  “Now, now, little girl. Let’s not get feisty. We all know how this works. We save your life, you repay us with a little fun. Come on.”

  I started to cry, sure a human child would react in the same way, although I knew I was actually quite a bit older than the man.

  “Ssh, there, it’s alright.”

  As he talked he worked himself between my slender legs and pushed them open. He unfastened the ties at his waist and pinned my arms underneath one of his hands.

  “I can tell you’ve done this before. Nothing to cry about.”

  Immediately, I stopped crying and looked up into his bearded face. All at once, his eager look faded. He blinked at me, and then suddenly sagged to the side.

  “Must be… must be tired,” he whispered.

  Slowly, I sat up, looking at him carefully. I leaned closer, until my nose was almost touching his, our breaths mingling. As my hair brushed his face, his eyes opened blearily. He stared at me for a moment, his forehead creasing in confusion. Suddenly his gaze widened in horror. He tried to talk but he was unable to form any words. As I watched, his eyes closed and he fell back, sound asleep.

  Confident of the mushes effect, I stood up and let the glamour fall away. My body pushed back into its natural form while I took in the supplies scattered around me – blankets, knives, rope, food.

  It is time to eat.

  ~*~

  The sun was setting as we started out for the evening. Delaak was snugly wrapped against my chest, leaving my hands free to carry the supplies I’d pilfered from the family of human males. I smiled down at Delaak’s rosy complexion. In the eighteen cycles since leaving the men, I had been able to steadily feed her on watery grease and honey, and she had fattened up nicely. There was a glossy sheen to the wispy yellow thatch on her head and she moved her arms and legs with much more determination.

  She truly was a beauty.

  Still, I was a little worried. The food from the humans was finally dwindling and I hadn’t spotted any settlements in several cycles. I hoped we reached one soon or my little Delaak was going to start losing all that healthy weight she’d put on.

  As we climbed the next rise along that side of the mountain, the cold north wind blew across my skin. A waft of human caught my attention and I stopped, head cocked, to take in the smell.

  I nodded to myself and started moving. It was the same one that had been trailing us for the past eight cycles. I thought I’d hidden our passage more carefully, but if I could still smell it, then we were still being followed.

  It must be some sort of hunter.

  Delaak waved her arms in a stretch and I looked at her happily. I was so close.

  A few marks later, I found my path stopped by an impenetrable wall of thorny bushes. Unwilling to risk Delaak, I started circling around them, hoping to find some opening that would let me pass. I was still high up on the mountain and the air was chilly. The ground as well was barren, the air too thin to support much in the way of life.

  As I moved along the barbed barrier, my ears caught a distant crash. I paused, lifting my head to try and catch a scent.

  The human.

  How had it gotten so close?

  I turned away and started moving more quickly, desperately searching for a place to leave Delaak. I crouched down, accidentally waking her up, and I patted her gently in an effort to keep her quiet. I continued moving along the wall of spiny foliage for several more moments. My arms finally encountered an empty space and I wiggled myself through it on my knees, scraping my back as I sought to protect my little one. The brush finally opened up and I slowly made my way to my feet. Delaak was making soft sounds and playing with the newly-made collar around my throat. I looked around in the growing darkness. I stood at the edge of a tiny clearing. It was hidden and close, causing me to feel instantly at home. I deposited my burdens on the ground then untied the sling with Delaak. While I fed her for a few moments, I reflected on the human.

  “There’s no help for it, my sweet Delaak,” I crooned to her. “I’m going to have to stop the hunter.”

  She smiled up at me and I took that as a sign from the Balance. I untied my necklace and left it for her to play with. I rocked her until she fell asleep then placed her body in the middle of the packs. I laid a familiar, grease-soaked cloth over one of her hands and the necklace over the other. When I was satisfied, I turned, crouched down, and slithered out.

  It was time to find the human.

  I moved back up the slope, away from the hidden clearing, not wanting to risk Delaak waking and warning the human of our presence. As I climbed, I caught the sound of the human’s thought – a male. They were dark green and gold, mixed with righteous indignation and determination. He was a hunter.

  He’s hunting me!

  I skimmed the pictures of his mind. One of them caught me. It was a woman, lovely and wild. They had traveled these mountains together. She went off, alone. Disappeared. His pain layered the image in deep violet and I used the strength of that emotion to begin my transformation. Once my body finished shifting, I focused on building my glamour. I reached a large clearing and nodded to myself. I concentrated, adding a large fire and leaves on the trees. The shadows behind me served to build a snug cottage with cheerful light emanating from its solitary window. Clothes were hung on lines and furs stretched out to dry. Then I started humming to myself.

  Before long, I caught the stealthy sounds of booted feet. The hunter was near. I kept moving, pretending to tend the fire while keeping my back to the forest.

  It always helps the surprise, that unexpected reveal, I thought smugly.

  After only a few more moments, a voice rang out across the clearing.

  “Halt. Keep your hands where I can see them.”

  I froze and slowly lifted my hands. I straightened my back, pushing out my overly generous bosom, and started my turn. After turning around fully, I stared at his handsome face and whispered, “Is that you?”

  His bow, which he had been pointing at me, wavered as he squinted at my silhouetted figure. I took a short step closer, pushing the glamour out to envelop him in false warmth. My head shook back and forth in disbelief.

  “Have you finally come?”

  The bow hit the ground as he breathed, “Dileh?”

  A short sob burst from me and I started to move closer to him. He shook off his paralysis and ran towards me. He caught me in a strong embrace and swung me around. He raised his head as I lowered mine to kiss him deeply. After a long moment, he broke away and set me down, sliding me against his body.

  “What? Where? I don’t understand,” he stammered.

  Again, I let tears come to my eyes and pressed my face into his chest. I mumbled brokenly. “I got lost. And I couldn’t find my way around the thorns. I kept going around
and around in circles. I was so sure you’d find me. But you never came. So I built a home and I’ve been here alone, all this time.”

  He held me close and I started to reach for the knife at his waist. But before I could grab it, he pushed me back and started looking me over.

  “You haven’t changed at all. Not a single bit.”

  I smiled in mock modesty and tried to lean back against him, but he held me firmly.

  “Can it truly be you?”

  “Yes, my keina,” I replied, using the human endearment I’d caught from his mind, “It is me. What took you so long?”

  Instead of embracing me like I hoped, a shadow passed over his face and he turned away, although he kept one arm around my shoulders.

  “Well, truthfully, I stopped looking for you a long time ago. This is just… I just… I’m hunting some sort of animal. I’ve been tracking it for nearly nine cycles.”

  I turned him back towards me, pulling his forehead down to rest against mine.

  “What animal would surely hold your attention for such a long time?”

  He sighed against my hair. “I was sent to find a trio of men – a family on a painful trip into the mountains. I tracked them to their camp and I found... I found...”

  He stopped and hugged me closer to him.

  “What did you find?”

  “They were dead. They were all dead. They had been attacked by some sort of beast with vicious claws and sharp teeth. It had savaged them, pulling out their guts and gnawing at their bodies. There wasn’t much left to them by the time I made it back. Even their traveling supplies were missing.”

  Inwardly, I smiled at the description. The human food had been delicious, their meat savory and strong. Delaak had thrived on the flesh of her fathers.

  Hiding my reaction, I looked up at him.

  “Come, my keina, let’s talk no more of this tragedy. Come with me back to my cabin. It’s warmer inside.”

  He opened his eyes and looked at me as I invitingly smiled up at him. His eyes blinked as he let go, taking a few steps backwards. I looked at him in surprise.

  “What’s the matter,” I asked.

  “You…your eyes,” he wheezed. “They caught the light. I could see… could see...”

  He stopped, shaking his head, and I poured more Magick into my glamour.

  “There, now, darling. What’s wrong, my keina? Does your head hurt? Come closer to me.”

  He took a few steps forward. The wind blew, shaking his frame, and he shivered despite the warmth I projected. As he got closer, I smiled and opened my arms. My mouth watered in anticipation.

  But the hunter continued to stare into my eyes. He started shaking his head.

  “No,” he breathed before he stopped moving closer.

  The scene blinked around him and I faltered back a step. I tried to pull him back into my glamour, but he had already caught his reflection.

  “No!” He screamed in terror and took a step back.

  “Noooo!”

  He turned around and fled, crashing his way back down the slope.

  As he moved farther and farther, his thoughts slid from me and I felt my form reshaping back to its normal contours – thin frame, pale skin, lipless mouth, rows of sharp teeth. And my eyes – perfectly round silvery mirrors.

  It’s always my eyes. If I could only keep them from looking into them.

  The glamour faded completely and the cold, barren slope appeared. I sighed. Faeries, men called us, always running in fear from the reflections of themselves they saw in our eyes. This made it hard to trick them, I was learning. My eyes refused to stay averted. I was a predator who didn’t know how to look away from her prey. And yet, these humans were clever. Even though I could change the shape and color, the center remained a silver mirror. If they looked too closely, they would notice and realize what I was. Making it all the harder to find food.

  However, even though I had never needed to hunt before this journey began, I would just have to keep learning if I wanted to survive.

  In the meantime, I had other responsibilities. My stomach ached and I thought of the food waiting in the clearing. I turned and headed back to where I stashed my little one in the hidden glade. She was sleeping soundly when I returned from under the thorny opening and I stared at her fondly.

  “My, you are getting so big, aren’t you?”

  I leaned over and grabbed my collar, the finger-bones lightly chiming as I retied the ends. I then picked Delaak up gently, careful not to wake her. After all, I needed her to grow just a bit more. Yes, a little more meat would definitely help.

  “And when that happens, my dear Delaak, what a lovely little meal you’ll make. You’ll fit the sweet sound of your name – perfectly browned meat. And then I’ll be able to find another male. With you as my mating offering, I’ll have my pick. And my mate will give me another strong daughter of my own. My sthilisth will finally grow.”

  I smiled down at her rounded, baby features. She gurgled in her sleep, turning her head in the direction of my warmth.

  Such trust the little human had. Such foolish trust.

  I started humming, inspired to add a line to my mother’s song.

  Drippy drippy wet

  Falling in my face,

  Soon I’ll take your fat

  Soon I’ll eat your meat

  And there’ll be more bones

  For my necklace.

  I smiled in satisfaction. My lord was right. It was a predator’s world.

  ~*~

  Be Careful What You Ask For

  By

  J. J. Haile

  Big Ed took me downtown Saturday. There was a big, free festival in what used to be Congo Square, its called Louis Armstrong Park now. We went so we could sample the free food and see all the exhibits. Kinda sad, even though it was nice to get out and see all folks I hadn’t seen in years, somehow all the changes gave me the blues. See, when I was first married, nearly fifty years ago, everything was different. People was nicer, kids wasn’t so smart-mouthed and things mostly stayed the same; at least the things that had been around since Schwegmann’s was a sweet shop.

  But, I guess its progress, if you alright with that. I kinda feel like some things shouldn’t never change. I mean, how you gonna know who you are if you don’t know where you came from? Like the Square ...girl, there used to be houses all along here, old houses where folks were born, married in the parlors, raised children and then were waked in those same parlors. Shoot, some folks ain’t never roamed more than five or six blocks from where they were born and raised, but that was before change came along. Change caused them old houses to be pushed down, tore up and flattened. They had a song, in the sixties I think, something about tearing down paradise and putting up a parking lot ... umm hmm, that’s it alright, look like they made so many changes, don’t nothing feel like home no more.

  We walked all over and all I could remember the spot where I grew up, right behind where the fancy gift shop is now; how we walked to Joseph A. Craig School a few blocks away and how we used to eavesdrop on old folks’ conversations. Yeah, you got all the news that way and sometimes heard more than you wanted, or needed to know.

  I remember my Mama and them talking about one of their old friends that way and suddenly I laughed out loud at the memory, made Big Ed look at me like I was crazy! But I’m not, just a little old and reminiscing.

  When we started back uptown, I started talking about the old days and then, before I knew it, I was telling Big Ed about Miss Auguillard and her husband, Mr. Fred. You remember them? Oh sure you do, that old couple that used to go EVERYWHERE together? Girl, they even went up the steps at St. Ann shrine together! Yeah, them, you remember ...

  Mama and them talked about it for years, how Miss Auguillard asked for something without thinking it through and got just what she deserved. See, she had Mr. Fred fixed, you know the roots, the mojo? Well, she had him fixed and then was sorry, but couldn’t have it undone. See, once upon a time, Miss Auguillard
was Miss Dennis, Miss Sophie Dennis, from down in the 9th ward. She came up to the Tremé to live with her aunt and uncle when her Mama died and started going to Craig School with her sisters and brothers, I think there were five of them but that ain’t the story I was telling you.

  What I was going to relate was about how she got what she wanted, even though she got it the wrong way. See, when Miss Sophie was about sixteen or so, she saw Fred Auguillard at a school dance and fell instantly in love. Yeah, she was sure enough hooked! Oh, folks say he was some good-looking, all the girls chasing him, and he was so cocky! Well, Sophie was in love and did all she could to make him notice he and finally he did. But it was the same old story, he fooled her and ruined her and then, the families made him marry her. Oh yeah, wasn’t no babies born out of wedlock in them days! Girl got spoiled, the boy married her, especially if they were Catholic, so Sophie and Fred was married in her Auntie’s parlor with the baby on the way.

  Now that might have been the end of a typical story but it wasn’t. Fred was a womanizer, never satisfied until he had more than one, even though he was married and a new father. He still chased women, gave Sophie the blues!

  He just ran the streets until he was tired and then he went home to Sophie and they had another baby. By the time she was twenty-five or so, there were four lil Auguillards running around. Fred worked at the Circle Food store, cutting meat and every Sunday, the little family went to eight o’clock Mass at Corpus Christi. After Mass, Fred hit the streets and Sophie took her children and spent the day at her Auntie’s. This went on until they were in their thirties and then Sophie’s Auntie died and left them some insurance money. Wasn’t an awful lot but they took that and paid off the mortgage on the house on St. Claude Street, right in back of the new park. At least, that’s where it used to be.

  Things wasn’t much better, they were just older, and Fred was still a dog, and after a few years, Sophie got tired. She really loved him no matter that he didn’t seem to care about her and she started thinking of ways to make him want her and her alone, but what could she do?

  Well, this is where eavesdropping came in. Sophie’s best friend, Ada, remembered hearing her Mama and them talking about Miss Amos, a lady in the 7th ward that could work the roots, and it was on from there.