Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Tuesday's Truffle is...Short Fiction! (With a little bonus artwork.)


Keeping Safe

By Sandra Yuen MacKay

The laughter of children playing tag in the yard drew attention from the adults within the house. The owner, an old lady, had invited the neighbors to celebrate the birthday of one of the children. 

"Kids, keep it down. We can’t hear ourselves think,” called one of the mothers. For the next two minutes the noise dropped, then became louder than before.

"Come on inside and quiet down. You can go out later,” said the old lady.

The children moaned in unison. The three boys chased the girl into the house. Giggling, they ran into the sitting room and accidentally knocked a box off a table onto the floor. Jewelry spilt out. The old, grey-haired lady dropped down onto the carpet to rescue a gold chain. She kissed it and then held it to her breast, ignoring the other items still on the floor.

"Is it valuable?" asked one of the boys.

The old lady struggled to her feet. She wiped away the slow tears appearing on her face. "To me," she said. “I thought I lost it years ago.”

"Did it belong to somebody you loved?" the little girl asked.

The old woman shuffled to an armchair and sat down as if the weight of the world rested on her. “Sit down and I’ll tell you the story.” Immediately, the children clustered around her, kneeling on the carpet. Fascinated, they watched as the chain slipped in and out of her arthritic fingers, catching the light. "It reminds me of a day I can never forget. It was the day my five-year-old son gave me his favorite teddy bear to look after. He made it special by making it wear this gold chain. We lived in a small town on the coast. A quiet place with a lighthouse, a church and graveyard next to our house--” 


***

The door slammed. I looked up from ironing to see Thomas watching me. “Please mom, could you keep my teddy bear safe while I go out to play?”

I nodded, placed the bear on the table in the kitchen, and returned to my housework. Outside, the old swing squeaked as he propelled himself back and forth. It was hotter than usual.  After a while, I called to him, “Would you like something to drink?”

“Yes. Can I bring my friend too?”

I saw an unfamiliar, slight, red-haired girl standing next to him in the yard. With a wave, I invited them in.  Full of laughter, they ran into the kitchen to each have a glass of lemonade. I asked the girl her name and where she lived, but she just smiled shyly and giggled. She seemed harmless enough. A sweet and honest girl. I smiled at their merriment, remembering my own summers as a kid. From outside came the jingle of an ice cream truck.

“How about an ice cream?" I asked. Thomas and his friend nodded eagerly. They took the money I gave them and made their way down the street. I watched them through the window as I continued to iron.

I saw Mrs. Fletcher busy at work in her rose garden. Sore from bending, she paused in her work to place a hand on her back as the two children passed. Thomas and his friend went to the parked ice cream truck and bought their ice cream. They ate the ice cream and dawdled back to the house. Meanwhile, I went upstairs to put away the clothes.

Minutes later, I heard a wail followed by scuffling and the loud bang of a door being slammed.

"Thomas," I shouted. "Where are you? Are you all right?" Horror-struck, I rushed downstairs, but the children were nowhere in sight. I checked the house and the yard. No one. Not a clue. Passing through the kitchen, I noticed that the chain around the neck of the teddy bear was missing. I felt cold chills run down my spine. The house filled with an eerie silence as if the dead had walked right through it.

From the porch, I shouted out to Mrs. Fletcher. "Have you seen Thomas and his friend go by?"

She looked puzzled by my question. "Only Thomas. Nobody else."

Afraid, I gave a great gasp and rushed up the street to question the ice cream man.  Perhaps he would know something. "There was only a boy on his own," he said. “I would have remembered a girl with red hair.” Distressed, I rushed back home and phoned my husband and the police. I alerted the neighbors. The police arrived at the same moment the phone rang. Startled, I picked up the phone to hear Mr. Fletcher’s deep voice. He said that when he arrived home from work, he saw Thomas enter the graveyard.

The police brought in two teams of police dogs to search the graveyard. They didn’t find Thomas, but discovered a gold chain hanging from a cross on a grave of a gypsy girl who'd died recently.


"I recall this case clearly. Five years old and killed in a car crash.” A policeman shook his head after reading the gravestone. The search continued for many weeks, but Thomas was never found. They found no more clues. He had completely vanished.


***

The old woman took the gold chain and placed it carefully around the neck of a moth-eaten teddy bear on the table. She wiped the tears from her eyes and sniffed.

"Was that the teddy bear?” asked one of the boys.

"Yes, dear," the old woman said. "It belonged to my Thomas. This is the first time I've hung the chain around its neck since he disappeared.”

“Kids, the food's ready. Come and get it!”  Immediately, the children jumped to their feet and raced out of the room to eat pizza, treats, and chocolate birthday cake.

One of the mothers came into the sitting room and handed the old lady a cup of tea. "I didn't want to interrupt while you were talking. But a boy came to the back door asking about his teddy bear.  Said he only gave it to you for safekeeping."

The End



Sandra Yuen MacKay is the author of My Schizophrenic Life: The Road to Recovery from Mental Illness and the scifi novella Hell's Fire. She also is an artist and resides in Vancouver, British Columbia. In 2012, she received the Courage to Come Back Award. Her website is: http://symackay.blogspot.com.
You can view a video about Sandra, her art, and her recovery here.
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