Roses

 

  That Halloween was his last.
  He didn’t know it as he walked down the creaking steps that led into the cellar, lugging the box of toys he’d had the initiative to put back for his mother. He didn’t know what monster waited in the shadows, or the death it held for him.
  He paused at the bottom of the steps and flicked a switch that was almost too high for him to reach. Light flooded the basement, illuminating everything save for the farthest corners, where pitch blackness reigned.
  As he stepped forward a strong scent hit him. Like the roses his father often brought home as a gift for his mother. It overwhelmed him, making his eyes water.
  He placed the box near the others of similar nature, and turned, happy his chore was over.
  Something moved in the shadows, and he started. A chill flashed over him. He watched the spot, hoping it was merely a trick his mind was playing on him.
  But the thing that leapt from the darkness dispelled the thought.



  Anna slowed the car as she neared her house. The Vermont trees were beautiful, and she wanted to enjoy them while they lasted. Fall, even though it spoke of the icy winter roads that would follow, seemed to grow more beautiful each year.
  She forced herself to continue. Her young son, James, waited inside for her, and she’d promised him she would be home early enough to find his costume, and bring him to meet with his fourth grade class.
  He’d called her at work to let her know his Darth Vader outfit was missing, gone from the bed where she’d laid it before leaving that morning. She assumed he had misplaced it in his play, regardless of his usually careful attitude.
  As she stopped the car to check the mail her cell phone rang.
  It was her son.
  She refrained from answering it.
  “I’m almost home,” she said out loud. She pressed the gas pedal, rocks shooting out from under her wheels as she started up the long driveway.
  Something moved in the hemlock trees next to her car. She paid no notice: it was probably the dog that lived across the road, who frequented their property.
  She thought it strange that James did not appear at once and try to rush her into the house.
  She exited the car, and reached the door in a few steps. Her hands shook a little as she slid the key into the lock. An odor assailed her as she turned the knob, bringing to mind the chore of marinating a raw steak for supper.
  She entered the house more quickly than usual.
  Across the room her son lay draped over a kitchen chair.
  The white phone in his hand was now red.



  Only a few miles down the road a young girl searched her room in vain for her Cinderella outfit. It’d been hanging in her closet that morning, but now, even though her mother had denied moving it, it was gone.
  “Isabel!” her mother called from downstairs. “Are you almost done?”
  She didn’t reply, she was too distraught. She’d looked forward to Halloween for many days, and now this one thing was stopping her from enjoying the holiday.
  Her mother’s footsteps sounded on the stairs.
  “Why aren’t you dressed?” she asked.
  Isabel explained, her voice reaching a high volume as her desperation grew.
  But as always, her mother had a solution.
  “You can wear one of your sister’s old outfits,” she suggested, stepping past her towards the closet. She soon produced a witch costume, and with it memories from last year. Isabel’s heart ached a little as she thought of her sister, who had to spend Halloween with their father.
  She allowed her mother to dress her, not making a fuss over the fact that the dress wasn’t her Cinderella one. She was just happy she had something to wear. She examined herself in the mirror for a moment as her mother readied the car.
  Then they drove the short distance to the school and the fourth grade party.



  The party was a success. Isabel had more fun than she thought possible, and was disappointed when it came time to leave. A small bag of treats in her hand, she followed her mother out into the night.
  The air was cold. She pulled her jacket on, hoping her mother had parked close by.
  But she realized it would be a while before she reached the warmth of the car when she saw a friend of her mother approaching.
  The chat that instantly ensued was uninteresting to her. She soon found herself wandering away, hoping the bushes that bordered the sidewalk would have some entertainment to offer.
  Her mother stood some ways away, in the light that streamed out of the school’s door.
  Something moved in the dark of the bushes, and Isabel leapt back, preparing to scream.
  Her thoughts were cut off as sirens sounded close by. She turned to watch the blur of lights speed past.
  When she turned back to the bushes, nothing was there.



  Isabel could hardly wait to get to bed. Her mother led her up the steps and relieved her of her candy and coat. Almost without thinking, Isabel climbed into her bed, the rustle of the sheets the only thing she heard.
  “Goodnight,” her mother said as she shut off the light.
  Isabel spent a moment waiting for sleep to overtake her. Happy thoughts drifted through her mind as she recalled the party. At last, exhaustion overcame her.



  The ring of a phone cut into Isabel’s slumber. The shrillness of the noise awoke her, and she heard her mother rise from her bed in the adjoining room to answer it.
  “Hello?” her mother’s tired voice sounded from the kitchen.
  A moment passed.
  Suddenly her mother gasped.
  “That’s awful!” she said. “Do they know who―” she cut herself off, and lowered her voice.
  Her words were now too faint for Isabel to make out.
  At last the phone beeped as it was hung up.
  For a moment Isabel could hear her mother checking the door and windows to make sure they were locked. She waited for her to near her bedroom before calling out.
  “What’s the matter?”
  Her mother stopped, and peeked her head into Isabel’s room.
  “Nothing,” she assured her. “It was just an accident.”
  Her mother’s voice sounded dull and hollow: drained of strength.
  As Isabel pulled her sheets around her, the unmistakable smell of roses flooded over her.