FaultlinesA Story by JainDoYou can't run from guilt.“Baby! Baby, get back here!” The little girl pulled back her feet just in time to escape the clamp
of the dog’s jaws, causing the woman to laugh harder. The girl’s
forehead wrinkled as she frowned at the cruel sound, before flicking her
gaze back to the snarling teeth. She pulled a foot back, then kicked it
out with as much force as her small body could muster. The evil
creature let out a pained yelp, followed by an inhuman shriek from its
owner. “Oh, my Baby!” The girl scrambled to her feet and fled the kitchen, scraping her arm
on the cabinet’s corner in her haste. She bounced off the hallway wall,
all but throwing herself into the hazy twilight of the living room
while the man on the television announced with excitement: “...for the first time in twenty-seven years a World Series game will be played at Candlestick Park. The Battle of the Bay continues, Game Three…” A quick glance at the old man parked in front of the glowing screen
showed no signs of refuge: his feet were propped on the low table, body
lazily reclined into the cushions. A large hand clutched a brown bottle
of that icky adult drink, almost empty and soon to join the others lined
up neatly along the sofa. The yelping and shrieking followed her from the kitchen. “I’m going to beat that fanny, you awful little-” “Now you’ve done it,” the man grumbled at her with a tired sigh. At the sound of heavy feet and small paws storming down the hallway, the little girl ran. She ran from the woman’s horrible laughter and her precious Baby’s
sharp teeth. Out the door she ran, not listening to the startled yip
when the heavy metal screen slammed into a hairy bundle of snarling
vengeance, or the man’s irritated voice yelling, “Watch that damn dog!”
Down the steps and across the pretty green grass she ran, ignoring the
rough red-brick path and a further admonishment to “Use the walkway,
goddamnit!” Her bare feet slapped against the prickly asphalt as she
sprinted away from the terrible yellow house as fast as her little legs
could carry her. Near the end of the street she stopped, panting, hidden behind the large blue mailbox which marked the edge of her farthest escape. Peeking back around the metal corner, she saw the woman standing on the front porch, clutching what looked like a tattered tan and grey mop to her chest. Her sobs of “Baby, Baby, are you okay?” carried down the street. She met the girl’s eyes with the snarl of a cartoon villain. “I’m going to get you, you ugly, selfish brat!” The little girl wrinkled her nose in anger and took off again, more
afraid of staying within range of the house than straying from it. Three streets later she finally slowed, shaking and breathing fast.
She was in unfamiliar territory, far from home and it’s tall trees and
clean smells and fresh wind. It was too hot here, too loud, and the air
didn’t move. The cool, damp dirt there never hurt her feet like the hot,
gritty roads here did, the girl thought, hopping with a wince onto the
smoother pavement of the sidewalk. “I want to go home,” she had sobbed earlier into the phone, refusing to
relinquish the handset until she heard her mother’s voice say don’t
worry sweetie, we’re coming back to get you right now. She didn’t quite understand time yet nor how to measure it’s passing,
but they should be here soon - they promised - and then she would be
safe from scary dogs and laughing old women, home among the trees and
her parent’s arms. The street beyond the turn ahead looked incredibly dangerous to her
young eyes, dark and wide and busy with at least two cars moving on it
at all times. Near the corner, however, was a green bench with some
shade and the perfect spot to keep watch. The girl turned her feet
toward it. A distant rumble made her eyes snap back to the road, her tiny chest swelling with hope before quickly deflating. No, Daddy took the car today, not his motorcycle... Then the ground moved just like the water had under her mommy’s
surfboard, and the girl pitched forward, landing hard on her hands and
knees. The wave continued through the earth, and she tried to hold on by
grabbing the stem of a scraggly dandelion growing through a crack in
the pavement. Her eyes widened when the crack opened further and the
earth swelled beneath her with a terrifying roar. The girl closed her eyes, clinging desperately to the weed and counting, just like Mommy did when she was scared. “Onetwothree…” She couldn’t remember the numbers past ten, so she started again and
after reaching “eight” three times, the shaking and the noise stopped. “-nine-ten,” she finished, keeping her eyes shut until she was sure
the ground would stay still and the air became quiet again. She opened
them to see the dandelion crushed in her hand, it’s roots torn and
trailing from the crack which was once more it’s original size. Knees
burning, she sat back on her heels and inspected her stinging palms. She
watched in horrified fascination as a red wetness began oozing from the
torn skin. A dog barked nearby and she spun around into a crouch, eyeing the
street leading back to the yellow house. The mop of terror was nowhere
in sight. The large dog scrambling and crashing against the tall wooden fence
nearby barked again, before letting out an eerie howl which was picked
up throughout the neighborhood. The girl turned back to watch the no longer busy road, shoulders sinking with the weight of unquestionable certainty that she would never go home again. © 2019 JainDoAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on August 27, 2019 Last Updated on August 27, 2019 |