Haunted Organic (2014 Watty Award Winner)

Three: Herring

THREE: Herring

"Bangkok!...Bangkok!...Bangkok!"

Someone was squawking that name. Then, he realized it was his own voice. His whole body was vomiting that name, an involuntary spasm, as if he was trying to cough the monster out of his body.

He tried to quiet himself, breathe deep, center his lungs, calm, calm. He was in his bed, covered in black slime. There was a splotch of sea weed in his bed. He stunk like the sea had gone rotten.

It was morning.

The dream wasn't vague. It was as real to him as anything. The monster, whatever it was, was coming for Trinket. Or had come for her. He had to tell someone.

He burst out his door into the hallway, putting on socks, underpants and jeans while he did, and nearly tripped over himself to get out to the kitchen to tell his parents. But they were gone.

There were frozen waffles on the kitchen table with a note telling him to eat and that they would be late tonight, very late, in a "don't wait up for us" kind of way.

His heart sunk.

He went to the living room window, pulled back the curtain and looked over at Trinket's house. He saw her, her mom putting her into the back seat of the car. They were getting ready to go to nursery school. But Trinket didn't want to go, because her little arms and legs were swinging at Gerty, hitting, slapping. She was wailing, demanding that she not be put in the car, that her mother not leave her.

"Toddlers are freaks," Josie thought.

But she was alive.

Thank God. He was still breathing hard, panting like a dog, but the relief of knowing she was alive calmed him.

"It was just a dream," he said out loud, and stumbled to his knees, holding himself until his breath stabilized.

But he knew it wasn't just a dream. He had felt the monster's hunger for Trinket.

He knew a few things for sure - the monster was coming for her. He would not stop until he had her. And it would happen soon.

It was not in Josie's nature to get involved. It was the last thing he wanted to do. He would rather put on his ear buds, crank up Steve Smyth, and let the music fill his head. Stay to himself. Keep his own company.

But he knew he had to tell someone. If not his parents, maybe a teacher. Wasn't that what grown-ups were always saying? That if you have a problem tell an adult? Don't try to handle it on your own...

His parents had never actually said that, but Josie was sure he'd heard pretend parents say it on TV.

Then, it occurred to him. He knew who he had to talk to. She would help Trinket. He was sure of it.

&&&&

Miss Dorin Hanes was Josie's science teacher.

She was bone-thin, a skeleton with a skin rug over the top, wild wirey hair that protruded from her skull like a porcupine and shook when she walked, and a large bulbous nose sticking out of her face like a cliff jutting out of a great mountain. She was a nervous person, bit her nails so short they were stubs. She talked ten times faster than any normal human beings and used more words than necessary. When he talked to her, Josie felt his brain could explode from synapse overload.

But she was also Trinket's aunt. She visited his neighborhood almost every weekend, chatted with her sister, Gerty, out on the lawn and chased balls with Trinket. Then, she got in her car and searched the Tamarama beach rock pool for sea creatures she could bring into class.