Read Online Castles by Benjamin X Wretlind - Free Book Online
Authors: Benjamin X Wretlind
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there were other messes to clean up that night.
The wind picked up and hit me hard, screaming past my ears and pounding the trailer. I turned my head downward into my chest as the wind howled louder.
"Cut out his tongue."
I didn't think I heard the voice at first. It didn't sound like Grandma, but that might have been the mixture of wind and trailer noises that altered her pitch. It was clear, though, and sounded almost like it was right next to me.
"Cut out his tongue. He's an evil snake."
I turned to face the voice, but couldn't open my eyes. "Grandma?" I cried out.
"Cut out his tongue, Maggie. He left his seed in you. Tie him down, and the castle will grow larger."
"I can't do that, Grandma."
The wind grew stronger as if Grandma was chastising me. The afghan slipped off my shoulders and the sand pelted my skin like a billion tiny needles. I tried to force my head down further, but no matter how far I went, I felt the sand in my face. The trailer violently rocked back and forth. I heard dishes crash onto the floor.
"Cut him!"
They must have been inside the wind all along—black eel-like creatures, swimming in the air. I felt their razor scales before I saw them. I heard their screams overpower the wailing wind and the noise inside the trailer. Slowly I forced my eyes open, curious to know what Grandma knew all along.
They swam in circles, riding the wind like vultures ride thermal drafts. Their long spiked tails whipped back and forth and seemed awkward given their gaping mouths and bulbous heads. I felt I was witness to the birth of a thousand black snakes, the hiss replaced with a thousand screams.
One of them swirled in an eddy and stopped in front of me. I know my heart must have tripped once or twice. My hands probably gripped the afghan a little tighter and sweat surely poured from inside. All I could do was stare at the thing in front of me.
Its tail swished back and forth, forcing its frail body to remain in one place. The mouth gaped at me, set against black skin. Teeth the like I've yet to see again seemed almost translucent but unreasonably large. Above the mouth, two eye sockets—nothing more—blindly held my gaze. It was so much like the thing in the Bus, the thing in Michael's freezer.
" Cut out his tongue and that of any man who wrongs you. " It was Grandma's voice, and it came from the dust eel in front of me.
I didn't know what to say. These creatures—thousands of them—swam in such a turbulent and dirty ocean. They knew me and talked to me as they must have talked to Grandma. It was then I saw the castle that waited for me. It was then I saw Grandma on her cedar chair, an afghan wrapped around her frail body. She smiled as the dust eel in front of me smiled back, its gaping mouth and tapered tail such a beautiful sight to see.
Grandma was right.
The wind died down seconds after and the vision of the storm creatures faded just as suddenly. I sat in the rocking chair and cried. They were tears of joy, however, and I felt a change within me.
I was not, however, going to cut out Michael's tongue.
3
When my period didn't come on time, I knew Michael's seed had found a home. Grandma had known all along, and it took a vision to let me know. Her stern warnings—once in Michael's home, again when I laid with him—passed through me. I ignored the advice of a woman I used to look to for comfort and advice. The price of that ignorance was an unwanted child inside of me.
I had to tell Mama, but didn't know what to say.
I sat on the couch when Mama came home from work. It was late, but there was no school the following day, and she really never cared when I went to sleep. It was almost like her life was returning to normal. She'd rescued her daughter, made amends the best she could and finally turned back to alcohol to ease her own pain. She wasn't as angry as before, and she had made great strides to act more like a mother, but she wasn't my best friend. How could I ever tell her the
The wind picked up and hit me hard, screaming past my ears and pounding the trailer. I turned my head downward into my chest as the wind howled louder.
"Cut out his tongue."
I didn't think I heard the voice at first. It didn't sound like Grandma, but that might have been the mixture of wind and trailer noises that altered her pitch. It was clear, though, and sounded almost like it was right next to me.
"Cut out his tongue. He's an evil snake."
I turned to face the voice, but couldn't open my eyes. "Grandma?" I cried out.
"Cut out his tongue, Maggie. He left his seed in you. Tie him down, and the castle will grow larger."
"I can't do that, Grandma."
The wind grew stronger as if Grandma was chastising me. The afghan slipped off my shoulders and the sand pelted my skin like a billion tiny needles. I tried to force my head down further, but no matter how far I went, I felt the sand in my face. The trailer violently rocked back and forth. I heard dishes crash onto the floor.
"Cut him!"
They must have been inside the wind all along—black eel-like creatures, swimming in the air. I felt their razor scales before I saw them. I heard their screams overpower the wailing wind and the noise inside the trailer. Slowly I forced my eyes open, curious to know what Grandma knew all along.
They swam in circles, riding the wind like vultures ride thermal drafts. Their long spiked tails whipped back and forth and seemed awkward given their gaping mouths and bulbous heads. I felt I was witness to the birth of a thousand black snakes, the hiss replaced with a thousand screams.
One of them swirled in an eddy and stopped in front of me. I know my heart must have tripped once or twice. My hands probably gripped the afghan a little tighter and sweat surely poured from inside. All I could do was stare at the thing in front of me.
Its tail swished back and forth, forcing its frail body to remain in one place. The mouth gaped at me, set against black skin. Teeth the like I've yet to see again seemed almost translucent but unreasonably large. Above the mouth, two eye sockets—nothing more—blindly held my gaze. It was so much like the thing in the Bus, the thing in Michael's freezer.
" Cut out his tongue and that of any man who wrongs you. " It was Grandma's voice, and it came from the dust eel in front of me.
I didn't know what to say. These creatures—thousands of them—swam in such a turbulent and dirty ocean. They knew me and talked to me as they must have talked to Grandma. It was then I saw the castle that waited for me. It was then I saw Grandma on her cedar chair, an afghan wrapped around her frail body. She smiled as the dust eel in front of me smiled back, its gaping mouth and tapered tail such a beautiful sight to see.
Grandma was right.
The wind died down seconds after and the vision of the storm creatures faded just as suddenly. I sat in the rocking chair and cried. They were tears of joy, however, and I felt a change within me.
I was not, however, going to cut out Michael's tongue.
3
When my period didn't come on time, I knew Michael's seed had found a home. Grandma had known all along, and it took a vision to let me know. Her stern warnings—once in Michael's home, again when I laid with him—passed through me. I ignored the advice of a woman I used to look to for comfort and advice. The price of that ignorance was an unwanted child inside of me.
I had to tell Mama, but didn't know what to say.
I sat on the couch when Mama came home from work. It was late, but there was no school the following day, and she really never cared when I went to sleep. It was almost like her life was returning to normal. She'd rescued her daughter, made amends the best she could and finally turned back to alcohol to ease her own pain. She wasn't as angry as before, and she had made great strides to act more like a mother, but she wasn't my best friend. How could I ever tell her the
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