Joe Snopes swung the Bookmobile through the church parking lot, careful not to circle too close to the line of children and adults who waited impatiently on the sidewalk. Already, ten people stood holding last week’s treasure’s ready to trade them in for a new batch. Joe waited until he had passed them to pull a face. A few more years and he could retire. If he survived that long without throttling the life out of one of his patrons. Heaving a heavy sigh, he turned off the vehicle and exited the driver’s side door, pasting a smile on his face as he walked around the front of the bus.
“Hey, Mr. Joe!” The young blond boy at the front of the line called out excitedly. Bouncing up and down on his toes, he went on, “I’m your helper today.”
Joe ruffled the blond mop as he walked by.
“So I see, Randy,” Joe said, producing the keys to the mobile library and unlocked the accordion door. “Step on up! I’ll be right behind you.”
Randy bounced up the stairs, a big smile on his face. The procession of other readers followed in his wake. Joe smiled and greeted each one as they traipsed up the steps. When the last one was aboard, he too climbed the steps, taking his place behind the counter where the books were checked out and returned. The return basket was already overflowing.
“Okay, Randy, are you ready?”
“Yes, Mr. Joe.”
“Alright then.” Joe held up the hinged portion of the counter. “Come on in and let’s get started.”
The boy hustled through the opening and climbed onto the stool on the other side. Joe handed him a small wire basket containing two adjustable date stampers and a pad of black ink. Randy had been his helper before, so he knew how to use them. Joe took a moment to set them for the correct dates before placing them back into the basket. Next to it, he placed the file box filled with index cards representing every book in his small library, and a ledger.
Joe was proud of his system – one he’d created and perfected himself. It allowed him to cross-reference every book checked-in and checked-out to ensure accuracy. Rumor had it that by 1986 the entire library system would be on a computer including the Bookmobile. Most places across the state already had computers in their schools preparing the children for the future, and in their libraries tracking their books. Not out here in the sticks, though. There was no sense in having a computerized system when no one in the district knew how to use it.
The door opened with a burst of fragrant Fall air. It swirled through the tight space, ruffling the pages of the ledger, carrying with it the scent of wood smoke and leaves as it danced through. The Crick kids swept in with it.
Joe worked to keep the distaste from his face. The dislike he felt for them bordered on loathing. Though he had no reason to feel that way, something about them rubbed him the wrong way. The only one he who didn’t set his teeth on edge was the teenaged girl. She was a pretty little thing, with long brown hair, big dark eyes, and clothes that hugged her figure.
Only three of the five children had entered the bus. The other two, Joe figured, were probably out holding up a gas station or mugging old ladies. The three clustered at the counter for a moment, books in hand.
The oldest, the pretty brunette, placed her two romance novels on the return pile with neither a word nor a glance in his direction. When she walked away, the way she swished those hips spoke volumes to Joe who watched her hungrily from the other side of the counter. Joe wanted to join that conversation. If he could get her behind his counter again, he’d teach her a thing or two about being a woman.
He was still staring after her when the youngest child, barely tall enough to see over the counter-top, slapped down his copy of The Velveteen Rabbit. Joe dragged his attention away from the motion of the skirt to look at the boy. The boy glowered up at him. Planting his hands on the counter, Joe leaned forward, looming over the kid. Before a word could be spoken between them, the other child pushed her way in front of her little brother. Joe pulled back. He avoided this one as much as possible. She was an odd duck. While other kids her age were reading Beverly Cleary books, this girl went home with an armful of horror stories and murder mysteries. Worse still, when she brought them back, she wanted to discuss them with him. Joe couldn’t imagine what the mother was thinking letting a nine-year-old read the likes of Stephen King and Lois Duncan. Let alone having a discussion about them afterward.
The girl opened her mouth and it was all Joe could do to not flinch.
“Hey, Joe,” she said, her voice like nails on a blackboard to his ears. “How do I get to work back there with you? Everyone I know has had a chance but me.”
Joe forced his lips into what he hoped resembled a smile.
“Well, Girly,” he said, “you need to have your parent’s written permission.”
“Cool!” She pulled a slip of paper from her pocket. “I have that!” Without hesitation she pushed the paper across the counter and under his hand. The paper felt damp as if she’d carried it around in her sweaty little hand for several hours before sliding it into her pant’s pocket moments before entering the bus.
Joe stretched the smile across his lips again as he slid the paper back to her. “And, you need to be the first kid in line when I pull up. Hold on to this until that happens.”
Joe felt sure that would knock the cocky attitude of hers down a peg or two, maybe he’d even see a tear of disappointment in her muddy green eyes but, no. The girl smiled bigger.
“Thanks, Joe,” she said putting the paper back in her pocket. Smile still on her lips, she made her way to the back of the Bookmobile to peruse the Horror section of books.
Joe dropped his attention to the little brother still frowning at him from the other side of the counter.
“What can I help you with, little man?” Joe asked.
The kid said nothing. Frown firmly planted on his face, he backed slowly away. At mid-bus, he dropped to the floor, diverting his eyes to the children’s books on the lowest shelf.
Another very strange child, but somehow he didn’t grate on Joe the way the girl did. Maybe because he was a boy, acting like a boy. The girl, well, she was pushy, spoke out of turn, and was plain to point of being ugly. It hurt his eyes to look at her, his ears to hear her speak, and his head to think about being stuck in this vehicle with her for hours at a time.
True to form, the Crick kids spent the entire two hours on the Bookmobile, perusing every section of the tiny library, carefully making their selections. Every other family on this side of town had come and gone, but the Cricks always waited until Joe gave the five-minute warning to gather their books and head to the counter for processing. As patiently as possible, Joe watched Randy stamp each book, place them into a pile and pass them back over to a waiting child. At last the Crick children stepped off the bus and onto to the sidewalk. Glad to be finished with this stop for the week, Joe gave Randy a pat on the and released him to his mother. With a sigh of relief, he started up the vehicle and headed for the other side of town.
The Crick children walked home, slowly. There was no reason to hurry. It was a short walk; across the street and down the block to the little pink house nestled between the tiny town’s main street and the cornfields that were their bread and butter. From the front yard, Rue could look out across Main Street and watch the wind move through the branches of the ancient trees that made up the forest that cut the town in two.
Rue walked with her head down, her mousy brown hair swishing around her shoulders, her books cuddled to her chest.
Alicia, her older sister, walked slightly ahead of her with her younger brother’s hand tucked into her own. Their books in the bag thumping against her hip. It was her brother who found his voice first.
“I don’t know why you want to work with Joe,” he said with a scowl. “I don’t like him. He smiles but he doesn’t mean it.”
“I’m with you,” Alicia agreed. “Joe’s a pervert. The one time I stamped for him, he tried to feel me up. It’s disgusting. You’re better off just getting books, not stamping them.”
Rue kept silent. It was no use trying to explain it to them, they couldn’t understand. Jerry was just a baby, what did he know. Alicia, well, everyone loved Alicia, she pretty and funny and her personality drew people to her like bees to Honeysuckle blossoms. People weren’t drawn to Rue. It almost seemed as though she repelled them. Awkward, gawky, boney, and shy, people took one look at her and ran the other way. Books were her way into the world. Someday, she’d have her own library filled with wonderful books to share with anyone who wanted to read them.
First, she needed to learn the ropes. Take a turn on the Bookmobile, maybe work at the school library when she was old enough or even the public library after school. Rue hugged the books tighter to her chest and kept her thoughts to herself. Her siblings didn’t love books the way she did. They couldn’t possibly understand.
While Rue spent her week planning her library, Joe spent it plodding through his days. The drudgery of his job wore on him as he grew older. Each night he came home to house full of noise, his wife and kids demanding his attention when all he wanted was some peace and quiet. On his off-hours, he slugged back a few beers and did his yard work. Until Sunday arrived and called him to Church to say prayers and sing praises to a God he didn’t believe in, but it was important to keep up appearances. Especially in such a small community.
That was the way he liked it. His wife took care of the details, and he rolled through each day on autopilot, doing what was necessary until he could get home and crack open a beer.
Before he knew it, it was Saturday afternoon again and he was parking the Bookmobile next to the church. To his chagrin, the little Crick monster was standing front and center, the line forming behind her. To make matters worse, the mother, her arms loaded down with books, was trotting across the parking lot to the line. Joe doubted he’d be able to deter the girl this time, not with Mama backing her up. He’d need to come up with something else.
Joe plastered a smile on his face in preparation of greeting his waiting patrons. The Crick kid, books tight to her chest, stepped up to him before climbing the stairs.
“I’m first today, Joe!” She said, her smile cutting into him like glass. “I get to work with you.”
Joe felt that itch along his spine that he always got when she spoke to him. What he wanted was to give her some lame excuse for why she couldn’t work the stampers and then send her away. One glance at the mother standing at the end of the line kept the words in his throat. Instead, he said, “You’re holding up the line, girly. Go on in and we’ll discuss this with your mother when she comes in.”
Rue made her way up the metal stairs. One-by-one, she placed her books in the return basket, happy to be the first to do so. Stepping back out of the way, she nibbled absently at a fingernail, waiting for her turn behind the counter. The trailer swayed gently as the line of parents and kids trekked by her, until at last, Joe and her mother entered the library.
Mama placed her pile of books on the counter, favoring Rue with a smile.
“Good lands,” she said, “I don’t know how the three of you read so many books.” Cocking her head to the side, she turned to smile at Joe and said, “So, my Rue tells she gets to be your helper today.”
“Yeah, she’s first in line this week,” he said. “I presume she has her note from you. Giving permission?”
Rue gave a wide grin, thrusting a small square of paper towards him. The slip was damp, the pen strokes feathered in places from the child’s sweat, but it was in order. Joe’s mind reeled in search of a way out. He knew, if he didn’t give her a turn, she’d keep pestering him. There had to be a way to rig it so she never wanted to be his assistant again, a way that wouldn’t get him in trouble.
“So,” he said, slowly, “If you don’t mind her helping, she’s ready to do the job.”
“Of course, of course,” Mama said, smiling at her child. “What time will she be done?”
“Well…”
A plan was forming in the book man’s brain. Carefully, he framed his words.
“She’ll need to ride with me to the other side of town, help out there for a while, then she’ll be free to go home.”
“That sounds fine,” Mama said. Turning to Rue she added, “You be home before dark.”
“I will, Mama,” Rue promised.
Maybe she will, Joe thought. Either way, he was sure this would get her out of his hair for good.
Swinging the counter back on its hinges, he ushered the girl inside before stepping through himself. With as much patience as he could muster, he showed her how to set the stamps, and where to put the cards. At least she caught on quickly without him repeating the instructions more than twice. During those rare moments when the library was empty, he handed her an arm load of returned books, and showed her how to shelve them.
The time sped by, to Joe’s surprise. The thoughts of his plan spun in his mind keeping his brain occupied, and the minutes slipped away.
When the last person exited, Joe and Rue fastened all the latches to hold the books in place, locked the trailer door, and climbed into the cab. Only one road in town connected both sides. As luck would have it, it took them passed Rue’s house where her siblings played kickball in the yard while the mother looked on. Rue waved as they drove by, her mother returned the gesture. From there, the road rose sharply, curved right, then wound them around the forest and into the next valley where the subdivision had been built.
Joe parked the mobile library in the parking lot of the conjoined Fire Department and Ranger Station. The only non-residential building on this side of the subdivision. It sat strategically on the edge of the forest, exactly halfway between the two halves of the quiet town.
Joe leaned over and unbuckled the girl’s belt first, instructing her to remain in the cab until he came around to open her door. The Autumn wind was blowing the leaves across the parking lot, cooling down what had been a warm day. It tossed the girl’s hair around her face, leaving it stringy and greasy looking as it hung limply against her neck. Joe looked at her with barely hidden disgust as he unlocked the door and ushered her inside the library.
Unlike the other side of town, this side rarely had people waiting for him when he arrived. The lag time was productive though, allowing Joe and his helper to get all the returned books back on the shelves as well as time to check for any misplaced books. Sometimes, his patrons tried to help by replacing the books themselves, often in the wrong spots, requiring Joe to re-shelve them.
Fifteen minutes after they arrived, the people began to show up. Some walked, some drove, some came alone, others en masse. The work began and Rue dove into it happily. The hours flew by. All too soon for Rue, it was time to pack it in and head for home.
For Joe it wasn’t a moment too soon. The quicker he could get rid of her the better. Impatiently, he hustled people out the door, ready to execute his plan. Glancing at the sun, he guessed there was close to half an hour of daylight left, plenty of time for her to get home before dark. Cheerfully, he bustled about preparing the Bookmobile for the drive back to the county library. The work completed, he turned to Rue who was replacing the last book on the shelf.
“Better get a move on, girly,” he said. “You need to get home.”
Rue felt an odd mixture of satisfaction and sadness as she exited the bus. She knew she’d done a good job, but she wished it would go on for longer. Reluctantly, she shuffled down the steps to stand next to Joe as he locked up the bus.
“Here’s the deal, girly. I have an appointment at the other end of town. I won’t be able to drive you home. You hustle along back, and you’ll still be home before dark.”
“But, it’s a long way back from here,” Rue protested nervously. She’d been up to this end of town many times, but only in her mother’s car, never on foot. Could she find her way back alone?
“Now don’t fret. It’s a straight shot down to that stop sign, then you go left, and it’s a straight shot home.” Joe watched her shift from foot to foot as she thought about it. “Look, you’re wasting time. You can always cut through the woods. It’s faster that way.”
“Mama says never to go into the woods,” Rue whispered. “Especially after dark.”
“Well, it isn’t dark yet,” Joe snapped, “but, it will be if you don’t hustle. You don’t want to go into the woods, then don’t. Run down the road. You’ll still make it.”
Rue looked up at him, fear showing in her eyes. A part of him quivered with glee at the sight of it. This should fix her.
“Run along now, and I’ll tell you what, if you’re not home by the time I come back this way, I’ll pick you up and drive you the rest of the way home. But I’m going to be a while, so you best be home by then.”
Rue knew there was no sense in saying anything. The small voice inside her was already crying in fright, begging Joe to take her home like he promised, but she kept that scared part hidden. Without another word, she slipped on her jacket, and jogged away.
Joe stood on the side of the road for a moment, watching her trot off. Whistling happily, he climbed in the cab and buckled in. Jamming the key into the ignition, he glanced into his rear view mirror to see how far she’d gotten. If he’d looked a moment later, he would have missed her.
“Ah, she’s taking the path through the woods,” Joe muttered to himself. “Good luck all you woodland creatures. A monster prowls your neighborhood.” He gave a snort of a laugh. “Ha! That’s good. I should write that down.” Whistling again, he put the vehicle into gear and pulled out of the parking lot. Joe turned the vehicle south and headed up the hill to the far side of town. He’d make his usual loop past the school then head back this way. Everything was going perfectly so far. All he needed now, was a plausible story to tell the monster girl’s mother should she ask any questions. Easy-peasy, he thought to himself happily.
Rue made a choice as she ran down the road. If she was going to be home before dark, she’d have to take the path through the forest – even though Mama told her to never cut through the woods. The path, she knew, was marked and well-traveled. Her friends often took it to get from one side of town to the other. It shouldn’t take long, maybe ten minutes if she hurried. Rue was sure she could handle the spooky woods for that long. It took ten minutes to brush the knots out of her hair every night. If she could sit still for that, she could spend ten minutes running through the woods.
As soon as she entered the mouth of the pathway she faltered. Maybe this was a mistake. Already, it was darker and colder, and she’d only just stepped inside. The little voice inside her head, the one who’d been crying earlier, piped up again demanding she turn around. Rue pushed the fear, doubt, and the small voice deep down and pressed on, pulling her jacket tighter around her.
Before she’d entered the woods, she’d heard the chattering of the birds, the wind shaking the dead leaves from the trees, even the sound of a woodpecker hammering away in search of bugs somewhere up ahead. Now, most of the noises had died away. Only the wind in the tree branches, high above her head, accompanied her along the trail. It wasn’t soundless in the woods, but it was very quiet. From somewhere behind her, a twig snapped. Frightened, she spun around, but saw nothing.
“H-hello,” she called out, instantly regretting it. The quiet seemed to absorb the sound of her voice. No one answered her. Goosebumps broke out on her flesh. Turning quickly back to the trail, she began to jog. The tree roots seemed to rise to meet her feet, trying to trip her as she ran along. Around her other noises reached her ears. Some were easily recognized, like the sound of birds singing in a tree far off to her left. Others, she had no name for. These sounded closer. Fear grabbed at her heart, sending it thundering in her chest.
“Just keep going,” she whispered to herself.
The path curved to the left and then to the right, the light growing weaker as she ran along. Beneath the canopy, it grew darker the further into the woods she ran. Rue wondered how long she’d been running and how much further she had to go.
Around her, the sounds of the forest began to reach her ears. The high branches rattled in the wind, sending brief cascades of leaves drifting to the ground. The dead leaves crunched under her feet. Behind her, the sounds seemed to echo her steps… almost. Fear rose with each thud of her footsteps on the hard-packed ground. Half a beat off, footsteps kept time with hers.
In the distance, sunlight poured down from the sky, growing brighter the further she went. The sight filled her with hope. Perhaps she was finally at the other end. Rue picked up her pace. Her breathing had become harsh and ragged, the air scratching at her throat with each inhale. The sounds she’d heard earlier grew closer, coming at her from every direction. A fear-soaked sob caught in her throat as she ran through another curve and burst into a clearing bathed in light. Not the end of the path.
Silence followed her into the light.
Rue paused to catch her breath, clutching at the stitch in her side. The sunlight filtered through the bare branches, creating shafts of light that shone brightly through the trees. Leaves heaped around the tree roots.
Standing at the edge of the expanse, she watched the sun dip lower in the sky. The light shifted around her, casting everything in a golden light. The woods beyond the glade stood dark and menacing, the light barely touching the forest floor.
Rue knew she needed to press on. The light was growing dimmer as the sun continued to set, but she didn’t want to enter the dark timberland waiting on the other side. Slowly, she made her way along the path, marveling at the patterns of light and dark painted on the canvas of the earth around her.
Halfway through the clearing, she faltered. Off to her right, something glittered in the spotlight of the sun’s rays. Turning in that direction, she could see the light glinting off a strip of metal nestled between tree roots on the far side of the clearing. Curious, she stepped from the path and trotted over for a look.
Drawing closer, she saw it was a small wooden box with a metal band across the top, half buried in the rich earth. Dropping to her knees, she reached for it. For a moment, the world seemed to pause in anticipation of what might be inside. Rue gave it a tug. The roots of the tree held it firmly wedged between them. As if they had a life of their own, her hands went to work digging and prying at the roots, desperate to free the box from the soil. Lost in her conquest, she didn’t notice the pain in her fingers as dirt clotted under the nails. The wood tore at her tender flesh, scraping open tiny cuts along her fingertips that baptized the box and ground with tiny flecks of her blood. A desperate need blossomed in her chest as she dug. Something was hidden inside that she had to lay eyes on. Her hands shook with it.
At last, the soil released the prize. Hands shaking, Rue pried open the lid. Blood smears remained behind to telltale of where she’d worked the latch. The lid flipped open revealing the secrets it held. Nestled inside, on a bed of silky gray fur, lay a small totem the color of butter. A leather strap was laced through a small hole at the top, its length long enough to hang around a person’s neck and allow the totem to rest against the chest. Without hesitation, Rue plucked it from its bed. The second she held it, the whispers began. They didn’t disturb her, she remained transfixed. Turning the piece over in her hands, she marveled at the satiny texture, wondering how it would feel lying against her skin.
The wind moaned through the trees, dragging fresh leaves from the branches and casting them to the ground. The sun deepened its descent, bathing the woods in a red light that seemed to pulse in time with the beating of Rue’s heart. So absorbed was she in the tiny figure she held in her hand, she didn’t notice the time, and the sun, slipping away. The whispers grew louder, as if whoever spoke them drew closer; the rustling in the trees drew nearer with them. Staring down at the image in her hands, Rue wondered idly if it depicted a human or an animal. The sounds around her went unnoticed until a twig snapped behind her. Spinning around, the totem clutched tight to her chest, her eyes searched the clearing for who or what was creeping up behind her. Her eyes found no one.
“H-hello?” She called out for the second time since entering the woods.
Hello… her voice echoed back to her. With it came more rustling in the bushes. The hairs in the back of Rue’s neck bristled.
Eyes casting about wildly, she scanned the growing shadows between the trees. The gathering darkness hid the forest’s secrets. She couldn’t see beyond the first line of trees. Suddenly aware she was about to be running through the forest after dark, Rue scampered to the path and began running down the trail.
Ahead of her, she could see the late afternoon sun glowing orange as it moved lower to kiss the ground. The path, already shrouded in shadow, was becoming more difficult to distinguish in the gloom. Rue slowed to a trot. Carefully, she picked her way along, avoiding the crested roots when she could, stumbling over those she couldn’t. The center of the path held fewer pitfall and allowed her to keep her speed above a walk. Nervously she pressed on, trying to ignore the sound of movement in the trees.
Hello! The voice came again, followed by giggles that circled behind her just out of sight.
Hello…
Heelloo…
Hello?
Hello!
The word rang out over and over again. The giggles turned to laughter. Behind her, the rustling in the bushes stopped as someone or something stepped onto the trail behind her, their footfalls gathering speed as they approached. Rue didn’t look back to see what was chasing her. It was better not to know. Fear guiding her plight, she stumbled over a root in her anxious state. Throwing her hands out to catch herself, she managed to keep her feet under her and her face from impacting the ground. From between her feet, she caught a glimpse of her pursuer.
The creature paused to look back at her. Body near hairless, the skin a greenish-brown, it blended in with the trees and hard-packed ground. It was the eyes that gave it away, high on the head with an orange glow to them. It cocked its head to look back at her, its pointed ears pricked up as if listening for her to speak. The mouth dropped open revealing sharp, jagged teeth that seemed too many to fit behind the lips.
Rue let out a strangled cry. Pushing hard, she forced herself to her feet, pumping her arms as she ran. Behind her came the sound of scraping as if the thing were digging in its toenails to gain purchase with each step as it sped after her.
Up ahead, she saw a break in the trees: the end of the path. Breathing hard, a half-formed prayer on her lips, she urged herself to go faster. The footsteps hammered behind her, closing in on her, carrying with them the heady scent of creature. A smell of unwashed skin, decaying leaves, and a sharp metallic smell that reminded Rue of the taste of blood. Dread rose sharp in her chest and edged into the mind, planting seeds of growing panic that whispered: you’ll never make it. Whatever chases you will catch you, drag you back into the trees, and devour you. There’s no escape.
The last rays of the sun stretched across the horizon like fiery fingers, when Rue burst from the cover of trees. Ragged, gulping breaths bordering on sobs, tore at her throat. Six feet out, she began to slow, casting furtive glances behind her as she trotted towards the road.
Almost there, she thought, clutching tight to the totem hanging around her neck, almost there.
The wind tore through the trees, whistling and howling as it went. Branches knocked heavily together at the wind’s urging, sending a cascade of brittle leaves tumbling to the ground. They skittered dryly behind her, raising the hairs on her back of her neck. The sound reminiscent of nails scraping the ground when the creature chased her. Too frightened to look back, Rue raced ahead. The lights from her house shone in the gloom calling her home. All she had to do was make it across the street.
The path disappeared in an overgrowth of long grass, brown and dying. It tangled about her feet, ensnaring her shoes and ankles, tripping her up, dragging her to the ground. The wind blew its icy breath under her jacket. Goosebumps raced up her spine as she struggled to free herself.
A heavy weight alighted on her back. The force of it sent the air rushing from her lungs and bounced her head off the ground, knocking her unconscious.
The creature on her back made a chuffing sound as it settled itself on her back. A mass of green-brown flesh with glowing eyes too big for its face and pointed ears rising high above the skull, it opened its thin line of a mouth, baring rows of pointed teeth. Saliva dripped from the fangs, leaving tiny red marks where the drops landed on Rue’s neck. Extending impossibly long, thin fingers beneath the girl’s shirt, it slid sharp, stiletto nails under her skin, digging deep until all of the imp disappeared beneath her flesh. The girl’s body jerked, her head rolling back and forth as spasms shook her. The imp stretched, aligning its body with hers, then lay still.
Rue’s eyes flew open. Staggering to her feet, she lurched towards the road. The only discernible thought in her brain was home.
Up ahead, headlights rounded the curve at the top of the hill headed in her direction. If she noticed the vehicle, she gave no indication. Instead, she darted into the road, her mind set on reaching her house across the street.
Slamming his brakes, Joe was shocked to see the girl stumble out of the woods and into the street in front of him. The Bookmobile skidded to a stop a scant foot from the girl who lumbered by, slack-jawed. Shock turned to anger as he recognized the Crick kid.
“Stupid, weird kid,” he said, through gritted teeth. Rolling down his window, he stuck out his head and said louder, “Get out of the road! Are you trying to make me kill you?”
The girl continued her jerky shamble, passing slowly in front of him. At the sound of his voice, she turned her head in his direction. Mouth stretching into a wide facsimile of a smile as she walked, she fixed her gaze on Joe. Wide and unblinking, her eyes pulsed an unnerving shade of orange that deepened to red as they burned into his. An intense, menacing hatred flowed from those eyes, sparking a sliver of fear that slithered under his skin. Every hair on Joe’s body stood up, his flesh breaking out in goosebumps. Eyes never leaving hers, Joe leaned across the seat to thump down the lock on the passenger side door, then quickly rolled up his window. The creepy girl raised her arm to point a finger at him.
Joe didn’t wait to see what she was up to. Yanking the steering wheel hard to the left, he slammed his foot down on the accelerator, swerved around the girl, and raced away.
“What the Hell?” Joe muttered to himself, his eyes on the rear-view mirror. The crazy girl continued her jerky gait up the gravel drive to her house, where Joe could see her climb the porch steps to the door. Drawing in a few deep breaths, he laughed shakily. With one trembling hand he cranked up the heat, hoping to melt the icy fingers squeezing his heart.
“Just a stupid kid,” he said to himself. “Just a stupid, crazy, weird kid.” Something deep inside him squirmed each time he said it. A tiny part of himself that didn’t quite believe it.
He was still quivering when he parked the Bookmobile behind the County Library. Nervously, he looked around the parking lot before hurrying to his car. Hands shaking, the keys rattling against the car door, he struggled to get the key in the lock. At last he was successful, and the lock popped open. Joe slid onto the seat and slammed the lock down on the door.