The Key to Everything Read Free Page A

sounds nuts, but it was mimicking me.” You look up at Emily. “Jason saw it too. Then it just jumped straight at us.” You point to the blood on the side of the house. “It missed the window, and I guess it hit the wall.”
    “Ew.” She squints, looking at the trail and back to the tree.
    “I’ve never seen anything like it. Looks like it broke its neck.”
    “Well, yeah.” Kneeling down next to you, she picks up a fallen twig and gently pokes at the dead squirrel. “But with a broken neck, how did it get all the way over here?”
    You look at your wife, “No idea. Keep the kids inside while I clean this up ok? They don’t need to see this.” She nods and walks back inside, sliding the screen door closed, while you grab the garden hose and plug it in. 
    You spray off the remains from the wall with the high-pressure nozzle. It cleans off easy enough, but now you have to get rid of the body. Unfortunately, your gloves are still packed somewhere in one of the miasma of boxes that lie around the house. Grabbing a trash bag from the kitchen, you turn it inside out and slide your hand in so you don’t have to touch the thing. 
    When you pick it up, it feels much heavier than it looks. There is a foreign density to the lifeless body. The head bobs around loosely, neck completely broken. How did it get all the way over here? And how did it keep moving and digging? You’re unrolling the trash bag back over your hand to cover the body when the eyes blink. You drop it and jump back instinctively. As you stare down at it, the eyes remain open. 
    Slowly, impossibly, the head starts to turn. It keeps turning until those tiny black eyes are staring directly at you. Frozen to the spot, you stand there. The eyes continue staring at you. You hear the rustling and scraping sound again. But the squirrel is right in front of you and is surely dead. You force your eyes away from those tiny, round black mirrors to the bottom of the tree, and the sound stops.
    You pick up the body again. This time you do it quickly and with both hands inside of the bag. You shove the bag around it and tie it tight, twice. Swiftly you head for the front gate. Fortunately the trash man hasn’t come yet. You open the first can you get to, not caring that it isn’t yours, drop the bag down, and slam the lid shut.
    “Hey neighbor.” Your heart skips a beat and you look up, eyes wide in panic. “Whoa. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Sgt. Gene Harmon.” He reaches out his right hand but backs up a pace at the same time.
    You take a beat and catch your breath. “I’m sorry. It’s been a strange morning…” Brushing off your palms on your thighs, you reach back to shake hands. “I’m Auden…Quilton.” You smile. “We’re just moving in.”
    Gene gives you a firm shake. “Welcome to the neighborhood.” He seems to relax a little. “I live across the street. Saw your moving truck yesterday, but figured I’d give you a little time to get your stuff together before I came by and introduced myself.” With his graying flat top and more salt than pepper beard, he could pass for a young version of Kris Kringle. “I’m Vice Principal at John Adams Elementary down the street.”
    “Really? That’s great.” Your eyes follow his hand, pointing  toward the school. “My kids will be starting there in September.” 
    “Well, just let me know if you guys need anything. How many kids do you have?” Gene looks  toward your house and shades his eyes from the sun.
    “Two. Jason is going into third grade and Jeremy will be starting first.” You reach to put your hands in your pockets but realize you only have boxers on. “He’s excited to be going to big boy school now. You know how it is.” You head back  toward the gate. “Probably more than me. Don’t mean to be rude, but we’ve got lots to do…and…”
    “No problem.” He waves and turns to head back across the street. “No problem at all. Have fun unpacking.”
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