Mischiefmakers: Dark Macabre (7 page)

eanwhile, Melissa and Sarah are on the other side of town,
enjoying a memorable conversation with young Sissy Put-
nam. Sissy is a runaway teenager who lives on the streets,

and who sometimes sleeps under a favorite bridge with Melissa and
Sarah, but she’s finally going home. Originally from Abbeville, Ala-
bama, she’s a petite teen with little-girl freckles and a sunny smile,
but with a strong southern disposition. Her southern attitude and
high, squeaky voice always make for interesting conversation.

After experiencing a few months on the streets, and hitchhiking
from town to town, Sissy has decided home isn’t all that bad.
The three women sit around in a moderately furnished motel
room, laughing and joking about some of the situations they have
savored.
“I said, ‘Please, Officer Stewart, she don’t know any better. Why
don’t you cut her a break? She’s from Alabama. You know things
are different down there.’ The officer snatched the gum, laughed,
and said, ‘Well, she needs to take her ass back to Alabama. This
is Newark. She can get locked up easily up here!’” They all laugh
as Melissa gives her comical recollection of one of their more
memorable moments. In her strong southern accent, little Sissy
Putnam speaks.
“Hell, I didn’t know y’all were so tuff up here. In Abbeville, they
just call your parents or somethin’ simple like that. That Indian
man called the damn S.W.A.T. team, all because I was stealin’ some
Hubba Bubba and a box of Fruit Loops. I had only been in the
city two days, and I was about to go to jail. That is, until Melissa
claimed to be an aunt I was visitin’. I know I told you before, but
I wanna tell you again, I really appreciate you bailing me out that
night. I had no friends and nobody I could call. I just would have
been shit outta luck.”
“It was no problem. You remind me of my sisters, so I had to
help you out,” says Melissa.
“So what made you decide to go home all of a sudden?” asks
Sarah.
“There is just so much going on in the world, so much hate and
killin’. I figured I could at least try to work things out at home.
Plus, too many people I meet are either dying or disappearing.”
“Like who?” asks Melissa.
“You remember Mr. Hurley, the guy who owned Bob’s Pizza?”
“Yeah.”
“He died a few weeks ago, and he was one of the first people
who really talked to me and made me realize that my problems
at home weren’t so bad. We talked for hours over some leftover
pizza. He even tried to get me a room at his house, but his wife
wouldn’t even consider it, so he just helped when he could.”
“What happened to him?”
“Lung cancer, all that damn smokin’, cigarette after cigarette. I
had to fight through the smoke just to talk to him.”
“Too bad. He hooked me up with some pizza a few times. Who
disappeared?” asks Sarah.
“This social worker lady I knew. She was also trying to get me
to go home. I had just seen her that morning, and they said she
disappeared. You must have heard about her. It’s been all over the
news. Seems like she’s from some well-known family, and they
think she might have been kidnapped.”
“Who’s she?” asks Sarah.
“Mrs. Garrison. And you know what made it even worse?”
“What?”
“She had just got married the weekend before she disappeared,”
responds Sissy.
Suddenly Melissa is struck with a collage of pictures flashing
through her mind. She sees a woman struggling with an unseen foe,
her clothing being stripped from her. Her body being struck down
to the ground by a powerful force. Then Melissa sees her nude
body lying amongst trash with her mouth frozen open and her eyes
fixed into a terrified gaze. Melissa blinks away the hidden memory
and buries it once more. The visions disappear, and Melissa cannot
remember them, but she feels terror course through her body. Her
heart races, then quickly subsides. Everything is normal.
“We haven’t heard anything about it. We’ve been too busy
enjoying the crib we’re crashing at,” replies Sarah.
“That’s right, so you said this old man just hooked y’all up for
no reason?” says Sissy excitedly.
“That’s what it seems. He said we could stay there as long as
we wanted and get rested. He said get rested like I got somethin’
important to do. I guess he don’t realize I have nothin’ planned no
time soon,” says Melissa.
“Well, I find the whole thing kinda strange,” says Sarah.
“What?” asks Sissy.
“The old man, he just come outta nowhere, I’ve never seen him
in the hood before. The way he stared at Missy, like he wanted
more. He didn’t even look at me one time when we first met, not
once. All he did was flash his gold and rotten teeth and offer her
a place to live. When we got there, he acted like he was mad that I
was there.”
“Maybe he wanted some ass!” Sissy laughs.
“Well, he wasn’t goin’ to get none, the little freak,” Sarah says
quickly.
“Sarah, stop being so damn mean. I thought he was kinda nice,
like a granddaddy. Anyway, he didn’t try to make no moves, he just
gave us the key and left,” says Melissa.
“Did y’all pawn some of that stuff?” says Sissy.
“No, we didn’t. I mean, if he was nice enough to give us a great
place to stay, I’m not goin’ to rip him off. Plus, he probably got
the neighbors watchin’ us.”
“So, who you got for neighbors?”
“That’s a good question. We haven’t heard or seen anyone since
we’ve been there. There’s only a couple of apartments with people,
and I figured someone would have at least come by or somethin’.”
“You invite your boyfriend up?”
“Who?” Melissa asks.
“Who? Harry, that’s who. From what I remember, you and the
skinny boy were a hot item.”
“Well, you remember wrong. Me and him were just friends, and
I haven’t seen him in a while. Anyway, he’s not even my type.”
“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to make ya’ll mad.”
“Don’t worry about it. He just turned out to be a typical man,
an asshole. He was so full of himself, I could never get a word in,
so I just asked him to stop comin’ around.”
“Yeah right, and maybe one day you’ll get the balls to tell me
and Sissy the truth,” says Sarah.
“I’m tellin’ the truth.”
“No, you’re not,” says Sarah. “All you did was talk about how
sweet he was and how he listened to you, then you stop talkin’ about
him, so somethin’ must have happened that you’re not tellin’.”
“So, Sissy, when are you leavin’?” asks Melissa, purposefully
changing the subject.
“Tomorrow morning, Greyhound,” responds Sissy.
“Damn, so that means you won’t be here for the get-together
me and Sarah were planning.”
“Y’all plannin’ a party and you didn’t invite me?”
“We looked for you at the shelter, and Tibbs told us where you
were. I guess we got so caught up in talkin’, we just forgot.”
“That’s awright, but even though I can’t go to the party, that
don’t mean you guys will forget me, does it?”
“How can we forget your country ass? Don’t worry, we’ll keep
in touch,” says Sarah.
“It’s gettin’ late, do you mind if we crash with you tonight?”
says Melissa.
“Naw! Missy, y’all go ahead and get some sleep. Y’all could also
help yourselves to them free towels.”
“That’s okay. We have a closet filled with them at the place.”
Sarah yawns.
The women quickly quiet down as the long day’s activities catch
up with them.
The next morning, Melissa and Sarah wave good-bye as they
fight through the thick exhaust that pours from the bus’ engine.
The streets at Newark Penn Station are littered with yellow cabs
competing for fares. The morning rush hour is typical as cars rush
to and fro. The Greyhound buses line up, taking on passengers,
then disappearing into the steady flow of vehicles. Sissy sits in the
back window, waving at Melissa and Sarah as her bus revs up and
slowly creeps into the oncoming traffic.
“I’m gonna miss that little girl,” says Sarah.
“Yeah, me too,” Melissa whispers.
“Well, what are we going to get for the party?”
“I don’t know, let’s get some Kentucky Fried, chips, and stuff. I
still got some money.” Melissa checks her pocket and pulls a few
wrinkled bills from it as they walk from the bus station.

he two women casually stroll down the street, enjoying each
other’s company while carrying their bags of groceries. The
day is slightly cloudy with the threat of rain; the damp air

is thick with each deep breath. The clouds hover high above and
seem to trace the women’s every step. The sun peeks through
every few blocks as if it too is keeping an eye on them.

Melissa and Sarah walk up the stairs to the apartment and
notice a strange odor, slightly different from the spicy aroma
they are used to. The hallway is warm as if someone has recently
turned up the heat. They walk closer and are surprised when
they realize the odor is originating from their apartment. They
look at each other with confusion, then try to open the door.
When they see it is locked, Melissa nervously pulls out the key,
and with a quick turn to the right, the lock unlatches. They cautiously enter, and the aroma overwhelms them. Upon opening
the door, they are shocked to see why their apartment smells so
strange.

“Who lit up all these scented candles and cleaned up?” wonders
Sarah. The scented candles have an ominous beauty and a smell so
thick it can be tasted. Like a drug, it penetrates their skin, placing
them in a state of euphoria.

“I told you Mr. Nicholas would keep an eye on us. You’re right,
though. He really cleaned this place up. He probably has a maid or
somethin’ that comes in to do this.” They place their bags in the
kitchen, then cautiously roam the rooms. The women are amazed
as they notice all the rooms are cleaned to perfection. The furniture is polished to an immaculate splendor. The refrigerator is
stocked with more food than before.

Sarah blows out a few of the spicy candles. Cupping her hand
around each flame, she breathes the ancient spice. Suddenly she
is terribly frightened. Standing in the doorway is a young black
child. She stands four feet high and seems very young. She is well
groomed, wearing a dismal gray dress, and it looks like she has just
attended a funeral. Her hair is jet black and partially covers her
face. With a demonic grin, she stares at Sarah.

The little girl does not respond. She holds the fiendish expres
-
sion, shifting her head, mimicking a lost puppy.
“Do you live here?” Sarah asks.
The child slowly opens her mouth and speaks.
“My father thinks you should leave. The doves will not protect
you,” the child says as if reading from a script.
“Who?” Sarah asks.
“Sarah, who are you talking to?”
Sarah quickly turns to Melissa.
“I’m talking to...” Turning back around, she sees the little girl is
gone. “Did you see that girl?”
“What girl?” Melissa questions, while looking over at the door.
“The little girl that was standing in the doorway!” Melissa walks
over to the door and tries to open it.
“Not only is the door closed, but it’s locked. I think you’ve been
drinkin’ a little too much lately,” Melissa says jokingly. “Standing in
the middle of a room, talkin’ to a door ain’t exactly normal.”
“No, I ain’t kidding! I saw a little girl, she said somethin’ about
her father,” Sarah tries to explain. She slowly sits down and
attempts to recollect. “I know I saw her, she stood right there
wearin’ a black dress. She said her father wants me to leave.”
“Sarah, relax, I’ll take a look.” Melissa unlocks the door and
walks into the hallway. Walking up to the two other doors, she
gently places her ear against each and knocks. There’s no answer.
Returning to the room, she gives her explanation. “Maybe you
got too close to those spicy candles. That’s probably it. You know
what, let us get rid of these right now.” She walks around the
room, removing all the candles from their holders, placing them in
a kitchen drawer. “Well, it seems Sissy may have been right about
grandpa. I guess these are no ordinary candles, they make you see
things.” Melissa walks over to Sarah, placing her arm around her.
While sitting down, she offers some advice.
“It’s been a long couple of weeks. Just get some rest, and you
will feel better in the morning.” It’s obvious to her that Sarah is
visibly shaken over what she thinks she has seen. Considering this,
Melissa makes no more attempts at humor.

he next day is a typical spring morning, with the sweet smell
of fresh flowers in the air. Melissa opens a window, invit-
ing the enticing aroma into the apartment. Even with a thin

haze of pollution blanketing the city, the warm rays of the bright
yellow sun fight their way through.
Kneeling down to Sarah, Melissa softly whispers,
“Hey, how you feelin’ this nice morning?” Sarah looks up, half
asleep, and peers over at the locked door before shutting her eyes.
“Come on, girl, rise and shine, it’s a beautiful day outside! I know
you didn’t forget our party tonight!”
“What the hell you so happy about?” Sarah grunts. “I’m seeing
ghosts and you’re happy.”
“Sarah, you saw no such thing. Now get up so we can get things
ready for tonight.” Lifting Sarah by the arm, Melissa forces her to
get up. “Come on, up-up-up. I told you it was those candles, now
let’s go. I command you to get up and forget about yesterday!”
“You don’t have to scream.” Sarah grimaces.
Eventually Sarah gives in to Melissa’s demands. They cook and
eat a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, hot coffee, and French
toast. Then they get busy tidying up the apartment, until every
room and crevice is spic-and-span. Afterward they put on their
best dresses, all the time laughing about the ghosts and phantasms
Sarah claims she saw. After awhile, Sarah is ready to totally dismiss
the little girl as her wild imagination and the scented candles.
Several people from the shelter stop to see Melissa and Sarah’s
apartment, most with low expectations. As each person enters,
the beauty of the rooms instantly captivates them. The enticing
aroma of the candles still lingers, and their ability to mesmerize
also remains. Members of the shelter wander about, examining
each room like a rare exhibit. They touch the fine furnishings with
inquisitive stares. Soon, they settle down and begin enjoying their
surroundings, toasting with shots of liquor and chugs of beer.
With her thick blue corduroy shorts and beer-stained T-shirt,
Jackie is curious.
“I can’t see how somebody got this place lookin’ like this in
such a short time. Two months ago, it was all gutted out. Seems it
would at least take a little longer to fix-up. The walls were fallin’
down and everything. That’s why I didn’t stay here.” Jackie takes a
small swallow from her forty ounces of beer.
No one notices the watchful eyes viewing. Lurking in the
shadows, they sway in the evening breeze, cloaked by darkness. Peering through the aged windows, they hover over the
decrepit fire escape. Like guardians, they inspect any individual
that approaches Melissa as if the person may pose some sort of
threat. They take special notice of Jackie, who talks continuously
about the building with a drunkin’ slur. With a 40-ounce in one
hand and a cigarette in the other, she bounces from one conversation to another.
Later in the evening, Jackie gets ideas.
“I need to meet this old man. If he all that rich, he could hook
me up with a place. I know what I’ll do. I’m gonna go to city hall
to see a lady I know. She used to be at the shelter. She could tell
me who this old man is. Shit, I’m goin’ to check out some of the
apartments downstairs,” she says. “You comin’?” Jackie asks her
drunken companion, who’s been passed out for the entire conversation. “You ain’t worth shit, I’ll go by myself,” she decides with
slurred speech as she staggers toward the door.
“Where you going, Jackie?” asks Melissa.
“I’m goin’ to get some air, I be back.” Jackie’s stomach whirls at
a dizzying pace as the liquor begins to consume her. Melissa pays
her no more mind as Jackie stumbles out the door.
Stepping into the hall, Jackie shuts the door behind her. The
hall is quiet and vacant, and the lighting is reduced to an eerie
gloom. Stumbling, she drifts side to side, wondering if that last
shot of Jack Daniels was such a good idea. Bumping into the wall,
Jackie places her hand against it, and a sudden feeling of warmth
swarms her from within. Removing her hand, she stares at the
wall as if awaiting a response to an unspoken question. A mist
creeps up behind her. She continues to stare at the wall in a hypnotic trance. Like a python, the thick mist encircles her legs and
arms, gently lifting her up into the unknown. Jackie, still mysteriously captivated by the deep maroon wall, lays back to rest in the
ghostly mist, and, with her eyes slowly closing, she dreams of the
past. The magical mist causes distant childhood memories to arise
from deep within her subconscious. She drifts softly through this
wonderland. Floating silently and willingly, Jackie allows the mist
to keep her in its erotic embrace. Forgotten memories resurface.
The sun, bright and almost blinding, blankets the park and all
the magnificent carnival rides. The air is clean. Spring pollen drifts
within the light breeze.
“Jackie, let’s go!” Jackie hears before seeing the little boy running toward the large red carnival tent; he gestures Jackie to follow.
Where am I? Is that little Brian Jones? How could it be? He
still looks like a child. Wait, I look like a child! She’s confused as
she looks at her reflection in a carnival mirror of illusions. She is
eleven years old again. She is a beautiful child with white barrettes
and a long black ponytail. She is wearing a sky-blue sundress decorated with golden sunflowers that capture her childhood beauty.
Jackie finds herself in the old neighborhood where she grew
up many years ago. She remembers this carnival as the same one
that came to town often when she was a child. The same booths
are all standing there, lined up, and with carnival barkers calling
to her. The same rainbow-colored balloons are flying everywhere,
flapping in the breeze. The same crazy clowns are running around,
playing hide-and-go-seek, and scaring the littlest kids. The ticket
booth right in the center of the carnival even has the same prices
on all the rides that Jackie remembers from when she was a child
— but how could this be true?
As Jackie wonders about all this, suddenly a voice calls to her.
“Girl, will you come on? We’re going to miss the main attrac-
tion!” The young boy grabs her arm and pulls her toward the tent.
“Brian, what are you doing here?” she asks, still confused.
“What am I doing here? What is going on?”
“You know, the main attraction!”
“What is the main attraction?”
“You’ll see!” The two run hand in hand, squeezing through the
crowd of adults, who are also very interested in seeing the main
attraction. As Jackie follows Brian, parts of her memory begin to
surface.
This ain’t right. What’s goin’ on? I should be in Jersey. I’m not
a little girl anymore. I shouldn’t be here! Brian, what about Brian?
Why is he here? Didn’t somethin’ happen to him? What was it? I
can’t remember!
“Are you okay?” asks the handsome boy. “Let’s get some cotton
candy, it’ll make you feel better.”
This must be a dream. What else can it be? But things feel
so real, everything is so clear. I can smell the fresh cut grass. I
ain’t felt this craving for roasted peanuts in years. The carousel’s
chimes, the laughter, the chatter, I can hear it so well. This must
be the best dream I ever had. Stupid me, that’s all this is, a cool
dream. Let me enjoy it before I wake up. Looking at Brian, she
releases a huge smile.
“Heck yeah, I want some cotton candy and some ice cream and
one of those big cookies!”
“Wow, you sure are hungry.”
“It’s my dream! I can have anything I want!”
“If you say so.”
“Hey, Brian, let’s go over there and play some of the games,”
Jackie suggests. Brian stares up at the big red tent as if asking its
permission.
“Okay, we have a little bit more time before the main event.
Where do you want to go first?”
“Let’s go over there and throw the darts. I want to see if I can
get them all. I’ll race ya!” The two children run their fastest, each
trying to out-run the other. In a flash, they meet directly in front
of the booth. Panting and almost totally out of breath, Jackie
looks up at the stout man working the booth. His overalls are a
grubby bluish color as he steps forward, eager to add to the children’s excitement.
“How much is it to play?” she asks.
“It’s free,” says the short man with the pleasant smile.
“Oh, that’s right, it’s my dream. Of course it’s free!”
With the short man’s grin turning into an expression of confusion, he stares at Jackie.
“What dream? Everything here is free. It’s always been free.
Have you--”