Streetlights

The children call him the Streetlight Man. The adults call him a story, because that's what he is... right?

It was still light outside. The sun was setting, but there was still enough time to walk the dog before it got dark out. As I was hooking up the leash to my dog’s collar, I heard my younger brother, Jake, come running up behind me.

“Are you taking George for a walk?” He asked. George started wagging his tail as soon as he heard the word walk. George was a smart dog. He already knew that I was about to take him for a walk, but walk was his favourite words. It always got him excited, regardless of the context. Sometimes we had to spell it out so he wouldn’t understand us.

“Yeah,” I said, “Do you want to come?”

Jake looked out the window uncertainly. “Yeah,” He said, “Ok.” I don’t know why Jake seemed so uncertain. I was convinced that he loved George more than the entire family combined. He never passed up an opportunity to spend time with the little golden retriever.

It was still nice out. It wasn’t cold, nor was it hot.  The setting sun gave the sky a light orange glow.

“We have to be home before the streetlights come on,” Jake said as we walked down the street.

“Why?” I asked him.

“So that we don’t have to worry about the Streetlight Man,” Jake said as if it should have been the most obvious thing in the world. I’d never heard of the Streetlight Man, though I assumed it was probably some urban myth that was circulating the town.

“Have you heard of the Streetlight Man, Jenna?” Jake asks me.

“No,” I said.

“He’s the one that’s been killing everyone,” Jake said.

Over the past month or so there had been a strange string of murders. About five people so far had been found on various roads with their throats slit. The police had no leads, as none of the victims seemed to have any connections. They were all either adults or teens, but all similarities ended there.

“What makes you say that, Jake?” I ask.

“Noah saw him,” Jake said, “His dad was killed by the Streetlight Man and Noah saw it happen. They call him the Streetlight Man because he can only travel in the light of streetlights. If you don’t walk under streetlights, then we’re safe.”

“Jake, that is actually the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” I said scornfully, “There’s no such thing as the Streetlight Man. Noah probably just made it up.”

I knew all about Noah. He was a real hotshot amongst the other fifth graders at Jake’s school. For whatever reason everyone, students and teacher alike, loved him. I for one, couldn’t stand him. I could tolerate all of Jake’s friends, but Noah was the sole exception. He was loud, obnoxious, he always talked back to people, and he had a real dirty mouth for a nine year old. The other thing I couldn’t stand was that he boasted about everything. The last time he was over, he was bragging about his shoe size. As if anyone actually cared. He liked to make up things, too. I had learned not to believe a single word that came out of that kid’s mouth. I wish Jake would learn the same thing.

Although recently, I couldn’t help but to feel bad for him. His dad was among the victims of the mysterious killer that was lurking around town. I’ve never lost anyone in my family, but I didn’t need first hand experience to know that it’s hard to deal with.

“But Noah saw him!” Jake protested, “He said that he killed his dad under a streetlight, and when he was done, he disappeared and the reappeared under the next streetlight. He can only travel under streetlights. That’s what Noah said.”

I shook my head. This was getting more and more ridiculous by the second. I thought for a moment that maybe Noah had made up the story as a coping mechanism. It would have been logical, especially for a kid who liked being the center of attention. But then again, this was also the kid who told Jake that he used to have a pet cheetah.

“Did Noah happen to see the Streetlight Man?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Jake said, “He said that he was really tall and had black hair and that he was dressed really nice the same way that his dad dresses when he went to work.” Noah’s dad was a real estate agent. I guess the Streetlight Man liked wearing expensive suits.  “He also said that he blood all over him. Like on his hands and even his face,” Jake added.

“Has Noah reported the Streetlight Man to the police?” I asked. I might as well humour him.

“No,” Jake said, “Only people who believe in the Streetlight Man can see him. A lot of older kids and adults don’t believe in him. That’s why he kills...” His voice trailed off and he looked up. The streetlight above him flickered on, along with the rest of the ones on the street. The whole street was illuminated with the bright lights.

“We should go home,” Jake said, “I don’t want the Streetlight Man to find us.”

“Jake,” I said, “There’s no such thing as the Streetlight Man! You’re being ridiculous!”

“Don’t say that, Jenna,” Jake said, “He’ll come for you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Has it ever occurred to you that not everything that Noah says is true? Do you really think he used to live in a castle before he moved here? Or that his uncle is an astronaut that went to pluto?” Jake said nothing. “Exactly,” I said, “He’s full of stories. Don’t worry about the Streetlight Man. He’s not real.”

Suddenly George started barking. Just a little at first, but then he got louder. The sound of his barks echoed all around the neighbourhood.

“Be quiet Georgie,” I scolded the dog, “No barking.” We continued walking, but after a while, George sat down, refusing to go further. “C’mon you stupid dog!” I said, “Let’s go!” I tugged at the leash as hard as I could, but it was no use. George was a big dog. No amount of pulling would get him to move.

“Jenna,” Jake said quietly.

“If this has anything to do with the Streetlight Man just keep it to yourself, ‘kay?” I said angrily. I was losing patience with both him and George. “The Streetlight Man doesn’t exist!”

“I can see him,” Jake said in a scared tone, “He’s there, at the end of the street.” He pointed to the end of the street. I looked to where he was pointing, just to humour him. But of course, I saw nothing.

“He’s coming closer, Jenna,” Jake said. He was starting to cry, “Jenna you have to move!”

“I would move if the stupid dog would just--” George stood up. He bared his teeth and began snarling. I was shocked. George was such a calm, and friendly dog. In the six years that we had owned him, I’d never seen him look so aggressive before.

“Jenna!” Jake said, sobbing.

“What?” I snapped.

“The Streetlight Man is behind you.”

Reviews

[ClockWork GRIMM]

amazing concept... wish I thought of it... the only thing that wasn't perfect was; a few times you would change suddenly from past tense to present tense descriptions... but other than that, the idea is f*****g amazing... check out my series Sick Puppies, that's similar to this and tell me what you think...

[Marie]

A childish tale that came true...creepy...

[Just Kim]

Goodness, powerful read really. Kept me reading.
Like the detail and imagery.