Everything -- An anthology of short stories

A few months ago I was asked to join an anthology project by a few folks on Google+ (If you're not there, why not? It is amazing!). I submitted a couple of stories and I got the announcement today that they're now online. Thanks to Natalie and Pat for getting this off the ground and published. You're the greatest!

I have two stories, a murder mystery and one about a girl with a spider phobia. The other stories are great too! At just 99 cents it is an eBook everyone can afford to buy.

http://www.amazon.com/Everything-ebook/dp/B006P60RQK/

No Regrets

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. My family used to be like all those happy families. Then Grandpa came to live with us. He was in a wheelchair and couldn’t go upstairs. Dad had to convert his den into a bedroom for Grandpa and expand the bathroom so it had a special shower in it.

I was only 10 at the time and I really didn’t want to spend much time downstairs when he was out of his room. It wasn’t that I didn’t like him but there was something about the way he looked at me that made me self conscious.

Mom and Dad didn’t usually leave me alone with him but one night Dad called and said he needed a ride home. “You can stay with Grandpa,” Mom said.

“Okay,” I had replied then turned back to the show I was watching.

“Jenna! I dropped my book,” he called about 10 minutes after mom left. I jumped off the couch and went to his room. His chair was next to the bed and the book was on the floor almost under the bed. I bent over to pick it up, forgetting that I was wearing my school uniform.

I felt a hand on my butt. It caressed the cheek then a finger slid under the fabric between my legs. I froze. The finger slid inside me and I could hear Grandpa’s zipper. Then I heard moaning behind me.

“Oh god yes!” he cried out then slid the finger out.

“Here … here’s your book,” I said and put it on the bed then ran out of the room.

Several minutes later Grandpa came out of his room. “If say anything, I’ll tell them about how you broke your mother’s vase.”

Grandpa’s book fell under his bed whenever my parents were out of the house for the next year. It was the same thing every time. I never said anything about it; I didn’t want to get grounded.

Then, one morning, Dad went into Grandpa’s room. He was dead. During the night his breathing machine had come unplugged. There was an inquiry by the police but it was declared an accident.

We never became a happy family again. But I didn’t mind. The look on Grandpa’s face when I unplugged his breathing machine gave me something to smile about every day.

Crossing Over

Detective Jan Hanson stepped into the old house and flipped on the lights. The bulbs in the chandelier flickered then there were several loud pops as they exploded from old age. The foyer fell dark. “Crap!” she said then fumbled for the flashlight in her jacket pocket.

She turned it on and light flooded the small room. There was a coat rack next to the door with a small table and mirror above it. Jan glanced into the mirror. The image of a woman appeared over her shoulder for a second then was gone. When Jan turned around there was nothing to see.

“Who … who’s there?” she called out. There was no reply. Suddenly a door slammed shut upstairs.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

There was still no reply. Jan suddenly wished she hadn’t decided to go exploring the old house on her own. She didn’t believe in ghosts and was sure there was a perfectly good explanation as she climbed the stairs.

With each step she climbed there was an echo of her footsteps. Jan paused halfway up and turned around quickly, nothing was there. “You watched too much Scooby Doo as a kid, there’s nothing there,” she told herself and continued up the stairs, ignoring the echo.

Jan looked down the hall to the left, all the doors were open. She looked down the hall to the right, and the second door on the left was closed. The floorboards behind her creaked and she turned but nothing was there. She took several deep breaths then walked towards the door.

As Jan neared it she could hear the soft refrain of Braham’s Lullaby being sung from within the closed room. She paused outside the door, her hand reaching out to the door but not quite touching it. Suddenly it turned and swung open.

She screamed and fell back against the opposite doorway then looked into the room to see the cradle was slowly rocking back and forth.

“Who … who’s in there?” she called out.

“Shhh! You’ll wake the baby!” a woman’s voice scolded then the song resumed.

Jan stood up and quietly stepped into the room. As she neared the cradle she could see a young baby wrapped up in sheets. It matched the description of the baby that had been snatched just before dusk from a nearby park. The police department had gotten several calls about a baby crying in the house and she had been sent to investigate..

“Isn’t he lovely?” a voice asked. The woman Jan had seen in the mirror earlier appeared next to the cradle. “He’s just like my James.”

“He’s not yours,” Jan replied.

“Yes he is,” the woman said frantically. The baby started crying again. “See what you’ve done?”

“Please let me take the baby back to his mother and father,” Jan said as she watched the baby seemingly levitate as the spirit picked it up.

“No, he’s mine!”

“What happened to James?” Jan asked as her negotiating skills kicked in.

“They … they took him away. Said I was unfit to care for him. They said I killed him. But I didn’t. I’m a good mother. See?” the spirit said in a desperate voice as she clung to the baby.

“How did you die?”

“After they took the baby … my baby … my husband beat me then tied me to the cradle to punish me for James and tarnishing his career,” she answered. She was sobbing and squeezing the baby who was crying in protest. “He left me here to die.”

“You’re hurting the baby,” Jan said reaching out towards the child. “Please, loosen your hold on the baby.”

The ghost woman stared at Jan then eased her hold. The baby’s crying stopped and the spirit looked at Jan.

“If you give me the baby, I will bring you back a baby you can keep,” Jan bargained.

“You’ll bring back James?” the ghost asked hopefully.

“I promise,” Jan answered and held out her hands towards the baby. The woman hesitated then allowed the Jan to take the baby. “Thank you. I have to take the baby home now. I will return tomorrow with your baby.”

The spirit was gone. Jan smiled at the baby then headed out of the house to return him to his rightful parents.

The next day, she went downtown to the doll boutique. She bought a boy doll with a voice box. It could be programmed to cry at certain intervals and even could say ‘momma’ and ‘I love you.’ Jan returned to the house and went back to the room with the cradle.

She switched the doll on and it started to cry. The ghost woman appeared and looked down at the life-like doll. “He’s beautiful,” she said.

“No more taking babies from the park, ya hear?”

“I promise,” the ghost replied.

Jan smiled and turned to leave the room as the ghost started to rock the cradle and sing to her baby. When she got to the door, the woman paused her singing and whispered, “Thank you.”

After that day, the baby kidnappings from the park stopped. The ghost, who had gotten what she needed to pass over, was gone and the old house fell silent.

Several weeks later, Jan, who had finally found the woman’s identity, stopped by her grave. She placed a bouquet of baby’s breath and blue cornflowers next to the grave marker.

“Rest in peace,” she said then got in her police car and headed to the next call.

Family Matters

The residue on the driveway could only mean one thing: humans.

Nature sighed and dialed her brother. “Luci, we have that … that parasite again,” she said. Her disgust towards the creatures that had infested her yard was undeniable.

“I’ll be over as soon as I can. The “Master of the Universe” is on my ass to rid his nebulas of Martians,” he replied sarcastically. “Dad can really have a God complex sometimes.”

Nature snickered. “See ya later bro and don’t forget to bring your pitchfork, I’ve been itching to try that lightning feature on the new model, it has been too quiet along the Atlantic coast.”

(From a story prompt to use residue, parasite and master in a story 250 words or less.)

A Miracle

The echoes of the woman’s screams reverberated through the bathroom. She held onto the sink with her left hand and lifted her skirt with the other as she squatted over a puddle of water. She was breathing funny as her body was wracked with a wave of contractions.

From my hole in the wall I could see a dark mass begin to show between her legs. The woman was gasping for air when the contractions stopped briefly. She let out another bellow when the next contraction hit.

She seemed to be oblivious to the building shaking or the walls crumbling around her as the buildings near them were destroyed by bombs. I could safely watch from my little space in the wall.

More of the baby’s head appeared between the woman’s legs as she screamed again then grunted as she bore down. “Get thee the fuck out of me!” the woman cursed, gripping the sink harder as more contractions hit. “Ye are gunna be thee death of me.”

There was a sudden splash as the baby landed in the woman’s bodily fluids on the cold tile floor. The baby started to cry and wave its arms around. Exhausted, the woman fell back on the floor and hit her head against the wall, knocking her unconscious.

The baby’s cries filled the small room as it shivered in the puddle. It was covered with blood and other goo. I leaned out of my hole to sniff the air then pulled back. It was quite unpleasant. The baby’s cries were overpowered by the sounds of a bomb hitting the building. The walls and ceiling crashed down on the woman, killing her as the light fixture punctured her heart.

Moments later, an older man appeared in the door. “Susan? Oh my god!” he sobbed. He quickly moved the debris from on top of her. He leaned over her, checking for a pulse. The baby, who’d been quiet, cried again. The man turned his head and stared at him for several seconds then quickly moved to pick the baby up.

He pulled his Swiss Army knife out of his pocket and cut the umbilical cord. Holding the baby in one arm, he cleared out the sink so he could clean him then dried him gently with paper towels. He looked for something to wrap the baby in.

The building shook as another bomb landed in the street and the man hunched over the baby to protect him. He looked down at the woman and he ripped off the skirt portion of her dress. It was dirty and torn but it would have to do.

I watched the man wrap the baby up then he paused to look at the woman. “Rest in peace love. I’ll take care of ye wee one,” he said then disappeared out the door.

With the show over, I ducked back into my hole and scurried along the walls to see if there was any food left behind in the office.