The Whispering of Bitter Creek

Chapter 3

PART THREE: A WHISPER OF MADNESS

"But Mama, I'm telling you, I saw her do it...."

My voice took on a whiny, pleading tone; that one Mama hates to hear. I can visualize her on the other end of the line, wincing and massaging at her temples as if the very sound of my voice gives her a migraine. Maybe it does and I hope it hurts like Hell, but I need her to listen to me, just this once.

She sighs. I hear it, an audible, exhausted hiss of air right into the phone.

"Harlequin, now stop this, okay? Just stop this. You promised me you'd behave for Grandma. I have a ton of things to sort out for the move and I need you to just stay put until I'm done."

"Mama, please...."

I'm begging now. I hate the thought of begging her for anything and making her think I need her, when I know she doesn't need me, but I have to do something, I have to convince her.

"Harlequin Jaden Jones, I don't want to hear another word, do you hear me? You're staying with Grandma for the summer and no amount of tall-tales is going to change that. Put Grandma on the phone."

I freeze. I can't let her tell Grandma. My head swims with visions of her oil-slick eyes in the moonlight and I know I can't let Mama tell her what I saw. Sweat dampens my palms and my throat burns as the panic rises like a tide, flooding my brain and making me feel dizzy for a moment.

"N-no, Mama, please don't say anything to Grandma. I'm sorry." I swallow. "I won't cause any trouble. I just...I miss you, Mama."

The line is quiet for a moment and I'm left hanging there, waiting for something I know she will never say.

"Just be good, Harlequin. Okay?"

And Mama is gone, just like that, and I'm left staring at my cellphone as if she's in there somewhere. Mama hasn't been there for eight years. For eight years, it's just been me, my scrapbook and the ghosts of twelve girls and now it's my crazy Grandma too.

I have to get Mama to believe me about Grandma, but how do you convince someone who doesn't want to listen?

Why, you show them, Quinny. You show them the bait and they'll bite, they all bite in the end.....

*****

It wasn't easy catching the spider.

It didn't help that it was a great big ugly one that barely fit under the glass. I found it skittering about down by the barn and it even ran at me at one point, making me squeal, but somehow I managed to get it and congratulated myself for being brave enough to trap the nasty little critter.

The spider sits perfectly still but I feel its many eyes on me as I reach forward, gently pulling on the piece of card, leaving the glass in place on the kitchen table.

Very slowly, I lift the glass and the spider doesn't move. It's probably petrified and I almost feel guilty that it's about to meet its death as Grandma chows down on her favourite eight-legged snack, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

"Grandma!"

I shriek and wail in a way that's worthy of an Academy Award and straight away Grandma comes rushing in to see what all the commotion is about. I point at the table and right on cue the spider begins to run. Grandma moves quickly towards it, her arms outstretched, fingers wriggling and I back off into the doorway. My hand shakes as I hold up my cellphone, camera at the ready.

Grandma scoops the spider up into her hands and I can see one long leg hanging out from between her fingers and think how soon I'm going to see that same leg hanging out of her mouth, twitching against her lips as her teeth bite down on its hairy body.