A Triptych in Horror

A Triptych in Horror

Part 1

Evidence SJ05 (loose paper)

A young bough bends
An old tree breaks

There is something uncomfortably effervescent in children.
The way they can find joy in the smallest of things:
A troll doll.
A Rubik’s cube.
A sock monkey.

Oh the joy in watching their eyes as they discover magic in the world.

Part 2

The Summer Before We Turned Ten

All the kids in the neighbourhood called it the forest, but actually it was just some trees and a creek between the houses of separate developments. It had a den that we used all the time, although we didn’t build it. From the weird stuff we found there from time to time, we knew we weren’t the only ones using it. No one ever told us off or anything, it was just like a timeshare den.
Once a cat had kittens in the den, we brought food and old blankets to keep them warm. At first, she hissed if we came too close, but as the kittens started exploring the mom watched from a distance and let them play with us, she was far too feral and skittish for us to get near her though. As they got bigger, they moved further away from the den, but we still saw them from time to time, and we kept putting cat food out. The food was always gone when we checked. I guess lots of animals like to eat cat food. One day we found some fur and blood not far from the den, we convinced ourselves it was just a mouse or a squirrel. Maybe even something the kittens had caught. They were far too smart and their mom too protective to let any of them get hurt. That’s what we told each other anyway.
Another time we found a nudie magazine, just lying there in the middle of the floor. You would think the weird thing was the nudie magazine in the middle of the floor, but that wasn’t it, the weird thing was how old it was. The woman on the cover had the kind of hair my gran had in old photos, but the magazine wasn’t crumply and mouldy, like you would expect it to be, it was still good, not pristine, but good. Well, that, and other weird thing was what we found inside…
It took us what felt like hours to actually open the magazine. Allan had to, after I dared him. I don’t know what we thought we would find. None of us had ever seen a magazine like it. The women weren’t exactly naked, or they were, but all their bits were covered by a feather boa or the fold of an arm. That’s not what made us gasp. What made us gasp was what had been done to the eyes.
Suzie asked if we should tell someone. Allan and me told her not to be stupid. If we tell, they wouldn’t allow us to hang out in the forest anymore, and where would we try to make gun powder or smoke our stolen cigarettes then?
We just buried the magazine far away from the den.

*

I knew Suzie was a girl in the same vague way I knew Australia existed. She was just always my friend. My mom had photos of us playing with dolls and cars and taking baths together, my mom said she was going to show the photos at our wedding one day. We just said ewww and pulled faces at each other. Nine-year-olds think about going to the moon and getting stuck in quicksand way more than they think about getting married.
Looking at those photos now I can see she was set to be beautiful. If her mom was different, she would have entered Suzie in those creepy little girl pageants they feature on reality shows, and Suzie would have won. She had the big blue eyes and blond curls they looked for.
Suzie was over at mine way more than I was over at hers. Now, I know that her mom was an alcoholic. Then, I just thought she slept at weird times of the day and sometimes moved like a marionette with some strings missing, and she smelled like my uncle that we only saw over Christmas. I don’t know what happened with Suzie’s dad, no one ever mentioned him. Dads weren’t major characters in our lives. They were mostly at work, doing who knows what. When they were home, we knew not to bother them because they were tired. Especially Allan’s dad. My dad still played catch with me and stuff. Allan’s dad was a myth, I only saw him once, groggily shuffling out of the bathroom to his bedroom. That bedroom door was always closed. Allan said he worked night shift and whenever we were over at Allan’s house all the curtains were drawn and everyone spoke in a whisper. I swear even his baby sister cried quietly. Allan’s mom was a tiny lady who always wore a pale pink housecoat that matched the pale pink walls of their TV room. She made the best choc chip cookies I ever tasted.
That’s probably why we played in the forest so often. We couldn’t afford the arcade like other kids, well maybe I could have, if I asked my mom, but then Suzie and Allan would have just had to stand and watch me play. They wouldn’t have taken my money, even if I offered to pay for a round.
The forest was free.
And it was exciting.
You never knew what you would get.

*

It was nearly summer break when we found the old guitar case. It was just there, a battered guitar case, left out under a tree near the den. At first, we looked around for some teenagers necking nearby, but there was no one. Also, the guitar case didn’t look like it belonged to a teenager, unless it was inherited. It was all beat up and it had all these stickers on it, but I didn’t recognize any of the bands, and some of the writing was in other languages. It’s probably still in evidence somewhere if anyone wanted to have a look.
The three of us stood around the case, it was just there, all alone, no bedroll or backpack or anything next to it.
“Do you think someone forgot it here?” I asked
“I don’t think you would forget something this big,” Allan said
Suzie poked near the case with a long stick, “Do you think it’s the same guy that left the nudie magazine?”
We all took a step back, if the same person who did that to eyes left the guitar case…
Well, we definitely didn’t want to open the guitar case then, did we?
We left and mooched around at my house for the rest of the day, but the next day we were back again, the pull of the forest and the mystery of the guitar case too strong to resist.
We drew straws, and I drew the short one.
My heart was beating at a million miles as I opened the case.
It didn’t have a guitar in it. In fact, it was nearly empty.
Three things lay, equally spaced, at the bottom of the case. Looking new and alien in such a big space.
A Trolls doll.
A Rubik’s cube.
A Sock Monkey.
We burst out laughing. Here we thought it would be a bloody knife, or a headless chicken. Instead, it was things we all secretly wanted, but couldn’t ask for. I cradled the sock monkey while Suzie flicked through the Rubik’s cube and Allan combed the troll’s hair.
This started the summer of gifts.
Every day the guitar case held a little treasure. Sometimes three twenty-cent pieces, sometimes a care bear each, but always three.
We met by the old guitar case every morning, waiting for everyone to get there before opening it. The first one there got the honour of opening the case. Which inevitably meant it was either Suzie or Allan, keen on getting out of the house and finding new treasure.

*

On that last day Allan was idly whacking at the undergrowth with a stick when I got there.
“Where’s Suzie?”
“I dunno, I been here a while, but she hasn’t come.”
We hung around for another 15 minutes by my new Cassio watch (curtesy of the guitar case.)
“Should we go look for her?” Allen was looking worried; it wasn’t like Suzie to just not show up.
“Maybe she’s sick?” I was getting worried too, something felt way off.
We walked around and checked the den and the path she would have taken to the forest. We walked around her house, keeping an eye on the kitchen door for any sign of Suzie. The drawn curtains never moved. None of the doors opened. We considered knocking, but decided against it.
“Maybe we just missed her and she’s waiting for us,” Alan said, his eyes full of hope.
“Yeah, that must be it…” I bit my lip, something was wrong, and I just couldn’t figure it out. “I tell you what. Why don’t we walk back, and if she’s not there yet we open the case and come knocking with the loot.” My stomach felt like it had a rock in it.
Allan nodded. “She’ll like that,” he said with a smile.

*

That’s not how it turned out though.
We should have knocked.
I should have gotten up earlier. What kind of friend leaves a nine-year-old girl to wander around the forest all on her own?
We opened the guitar case.
But it was the police who knocked on the door and woke Suzie’s mom up that day.
I still see her, in her dirty creased night gown, a pale stain against the policeman’s dark pressed uniform.
She crumpled on that front doorstep like whoever was holding the marionette strings decided to cut them all at once.
Turned out who ever left the nudie magazine was leaving the gifts in the guitar case too.
It had to be.
Cause of how we found Suzie…

And what had been done to her eyes.  

Part 3

Evidence SJ12 (diary entry)

Have you ever looked at the world?

Really looked at it?

The way it copies itself.

The way the veins of a hand, look like the tributaries of a river, look like roots of a tree.

These are the fractals that run the world.

The little echoes that get stuck between phases.

The way the eddies of good and evil swirl and pool.

Where does fault lie?

What is the fulcrum of good and evil.

Is it me?