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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Contest · #759107
Written for Wannabe's Monthly Murder Mystery Contest

REBECCA


The old woman sighed as she opened the door for the tenth time that night. It was hallows eve, a time when all the neighborhood children ran around the street, going from house to house, and yelling "Trick or Treat!" She supposed that it was a harmless thing, yet she dreaded this time of year.

Fifty years ago, her own little girl ran from house to house, eager to add to her bag of treats. Plainfield was a small town, and she felt secure letting her go. If only she had not let her dress up in that black witches costume! Everyone in town had pretty much forgotten Rebecca. They had forgotten the car and the teenager who had not seen her. He'd been going too fast, on his way to a Halloween party for the high school kids. Rebecca had died instantly.

The police ruled it an accident and Tommy Jenkins was never punished. Evelyn tossed her head and blinked back tears. Well, she would never forget!
People in town thought she was a crazy old woman, and pretty much ignored her. Still, the children came every year to her house, and every year she opened the door to them. Smiling, she handed out the last of the candy.

She turned off the porch light and went into the living room. In a large overstuffed chair, she sat down to rest. Soon she fell asleep, and the house was still, except for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall.

A gentle knock at the door awakened her. She got up slowly, wondering who would come knocking when the lights were out. Evelyn was out of candy, but she had a few apples she could share. She opened the door and cried out. Before her on the steps was a little witch, dressed all in black, holding out her treat bag. Evelyn stood, in shock for a moment, and then regained her composure. "What's your name, child?" she asked. "Rebecca" came the reply.

Evelyn invited her in. Rebecca shook her head "no" and appeared to be frightened. She must look a sight, Evelyn thought. "Oh, don't be afraid, child. I used to have a little girl named Rebecca!" She gave the apple she held in her hand to the little girl. Rebecca turned and ran down the steps, calling out a "thank you" to Evelyn.

Evelyn watched as the little girl ran across the street, and disappeared into the darkness. She would answer the door no more this night, she said to herself. The sound of a car caused her to open the door again, almost expecting to see that red volkswagon turning the corner. She could see headlights down the street, and the motor was racing. "Crazy kids, they still make them!" she said to the night air. She was about to go back inside, when she saw Rebecca crossing the street to the house next door. The car moved slowly forward.

Evelyn went out into the street just as the car once more picked up speed. She held up her hand, as if to stop the vehicle. Headlights blinded her, and the pain she felt as the car struck her was intense. She lay crumpled in the street as the car sped out of sight. She heard screams from her neighbors house. She hoped the little girl didn't see it. Everything went black, and her life blood ran red in the darkened street.

Tommy Jenkins had beaten the rap for Rebecca's death years ago, but he never forgot. He told his son over and over again about every detail. In the end, it drove him insane. Billy Jenkins grew up without a father, and times were not easy. When he was eighteen, he joined the Army and vowed never to come back.

He was send to fight a war that could never be won. Billy learned to kill, and found pleasure in it. After all, he reasoned, it was war, and it was kill or be killed. The trouble was, when he got out of the service, the need for killing was still strong in his heart. "The time will come" he said to himself, "when I will find the woman whose child's death drove my father insane and left me to grow up alone!"

Billy returned to Plainfield and got a job in the local garage. It was routine and boring, but he spent most of his time plotting his revenge. Years went by, he married one of the local girls and became the father of a little girl. He insisted that she be named Rebecca. For awhile, he seemed to forget. His daughter Rebecca turned six, and it was after her birthday party that she asked to see pictures of her grandparents. Her mother had given her an album, one that Billy had kept hidden away all these years, and showed her the old photographs. "Why does Grandpa look so sad?" she asked, just as Billy walked in the room.

Billy walked over to her, and glanced down at the picture. His father did look sad. Haunted, perhaps. He took the album away from Rebecca and put it away. "No need to worry about that, Sweetie" he said. "Grandpa wouldn't want you to!" Rebecca slid off the couch and ran outside to play. She did not see the look in her father's eyes.

Images of his father flashed before his eyes. He would feel again the torment and desire for revenge. It had been an accident, but that woman claimed it had been his father's fault, and caused him some trouble. He could almost hear his father telling him again how all he felt was a bump, and didn't know he'd killed someone's precious little baby! Then he would go on to tell his son about the look on the little girl's face as she was thrown onto the hood of his car, and the blood that was all over. He always remembered the little girl's eyes, questioning "why"?

Another month passed, and Halloween was approaching. He bought Rebecca a really cute witch costume. She had wanted to be an angel, but no changing her father's mind. He seemed to be angry all the time, and she didn't know why. On hallows eve, he made her stay in until almost all of the other children had made their rounds. She hated to go alone, but she wanted to fill her treat bag. She was going to be brave. He dropped her off and told her to be sure to knock on every door, even if the lights were off!

Billy returned the car to the garage. It would be picked up in the morning by those people from New Jersey. He switched on the overhead light on the garage. Just a couple swipes with the cleaner should do the trick. He wiped off the blood from the front of the car. Satisfied, he went outside, and got into his own car. He drove home, and found that someone had driven Rebecca home. She was in tears. "Oh, Daddy!" she cried. He picked her up in his arms and kissed her. Then he saw the look in her eyes, asking "Why?"

He hadn't noticed the police car that had followed him home. He paniced then, putting Rebecca down and facing his wife, whose face was white with fear. "It's all right" he said. "It was an accident.."

Billy went upstairs and got his gun. He could hear the policemen below talking to his wife. He pulled the trigger.











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