GRAVEWORM Read Free

days Margaret felt age creeping up on her, laying its shadow against her soul, blighting things that had once flowered brightly. She fought against it with an iron will, determination, and a feisty stubbornness that was part and parcel of who she was. Age might be crippling her hands and stiffening her neck, threading her legs with blue veins and turning her bones brittle, but she’d be damned if it would take the resolution from her soul or the light from her eyes.
    She was competent.
    Resourceful.
    And she was more than equal to the job at hand.
    “ I’ll not bother Tara at work with this,” she said under her breath. “If it comes to it, I’ll call Lisa on that darn cellphone. But I won’t bother Tara.”
    It was a plan of action.
    Margaret waited another five long minutes, then picked up the phone and dialed Lisa’s cell. It rang. Rang again. Then rang some more. But there was no answer, nothing but some annoying voice encouraging her to leave a message which was something Margaret had no intention of doing. If there was one thing she despised more than cellphones—other than computers, that was—it was answering machines. The only thing more annoying than them was having a damn computer call you on the phone and tell you your order was in at Sears.
    The clock on the wall said it was after 8:30 now.
    Good Lord, girl, where have you gone to now? What sort of trouble and devilment are you up to? Your sister will have my neck for this if you get into mischief and if she does, be certain, little miss, that I will have yours.
    She pressed her face up against the square of window above the sink.
    So dark out there. Like night had been slit open and its black blood had run everywhere, drowning the yard in a silken darkness. Shadows melted into other shadows in a blurring river of opaque nonentity. She squinted and thought she saw a figure moving near the big maple back there, flitting about beneath its spreading branches. Right away she was imagining Lisa out there, making out with some boy. But the harder she looked, the more she was certain she had only seen mocking shadow.
    You’re not sure of that at all, old woman, she thought then. Maybe the rest of you is going to hell, but there’s nothing wrong with your peepers.
    Feeling a strange tightness in her chest, Margaret walked over to the table and pulled the curtains open at the window. It was bigger and would give her a better view. She pressed her face against the glass and looked out there. She was certain somebody was crouched down by the tree.
    She thought she saw eyes shining in the moonlight.
    But who would be out there? Who would be hiding out by the tree? Could have been one of the neighbor kids, she supposed. But her mind told her it could also be Lisa up to no good. Her gut instinct, however, was certain that it was not Lisa at all.
    “ I’ll sort this out,” Margaret said.
    She went over to the back door and clicked on the patio light.
    Nothing.
    She clicked it a few more times.
    It was either burned out or something was playing havoc with the wiring. Ignoring a feeling of panic spreading out in her belly, she opened the screen door. It screeched like nails being pulled from a coffin. The night smelled green and warm, just a hint of chill in the air.
    Her eyes were locked on that shape by the tree.
    Slowly then, feeling she was making a great mistake, she started over there.
    About that time, the crickets went silent.
    The night tensed, holding its breath.
     
     
    3
    Darkness.
    In the backyard, dappled in moonlight beneath the red maple, the naked girl peered from the shadows at the house before her. It was not large and rambling like the one she shared with her brother, it was trim and neat. Cute. Like a doll house, a lovely little doll house. She wondered if any dolls lived in it.
    If there were, she would play with them.
    She saw an old woman press her face up to the window. An ugly old woman with an ugly old face. The old woman was