Terror in the
Neighborhood
by April Aasheim
“They’re
coming!” Sam yelled from his station at the
blinds. Sam had been sitting there all morning.
Waiting. “Positions everyone.”
“Do we have
to do this again?” His son Billie asked.
“I’m so tired, daddy. Maybe we
should…”
“This is not
a drill!” Sam snapped. “Now get
upstairs and hide under your bed.”
Sam exchanged
glances with his wife Cindy as the sound of
weighted footsteps made their way towards their
front door. “No matter what happens, I love
you.” He pushed his wife into the den.
“Now be still. Don’t even breathe.”
Cindy nodded and obeyed.
Knock. Knock.
Knock. Slow, heavy pounds erupted on the door.
Sam could feel his heart racing. “Why
won’t these bastards give us any peace?”
He whispered, reaching for Cindy’s hand.
“Sam…”
Cindy said, trembling. For a moment Sam felt
selfish involving his family like this. But they
were all in it together now, and it was his duty
to protect them. He listened intently. The
intruders were leaving.
“We
haven’t fooled them.” Sam said,
emerging from his trench. “They know we are
home. And they will wait.” Sam’s wife
and son slid out of their hiding spots and joined
him in the main room.
“That was
close,” Billie said, peeking out the window.
“Daddy, I’m scared.”
Sam cradled his
face in his hands. “We can’t hide
forever. They will catch us...someday.”
“They watch
me when I go to school, daddy. Once, they even
chased me.”
Sam looked up,
white-faced. “But, that’s against the
law!”
Cindy opened the
front door and removed a piece of paper. Their
house had been marked. “Honey, in case you
haven’t figured it out...these people are
the law.” Cindy dropped the paper onto the
coffee table. “Maybe it’s time we move
on. We’re on the run, Sam. We can’t
raise a boy like this.”
Sam stumbled to
the sofa and plopped down. “I just
don’t know what to do.”
“I’ve
got an idea,” Billie said, looking down at
his feet. “We could just… mow our lawn.”
Sam looked at his
son, horror-struck. “But where does it end?
We mow the lawn today. Maybe even clean up the
oil spills on the driveway and pick up the dog
poop in the front yard. Then what? Maybe next
they will expect you to clean your room.”
Billy’s knees
shook and Cindy went to him. “It will be
alright.” She said, stroking her son’s
hair. “Mama won’t let them get you.”
“Maybe we should
go.” Sam said reading the note on the coffee
table.
Twenty-Five
Dollar Fine: Weeds
The fourth notice
they had gotten in a week.
“We must stay,”
Cindy said, looking at her husband. “Without
us, our neighbors are doomed.”
Sam sighed.
“You’re right. Someone has to have the
worst house in the cul-de-sac.” Sam
brightened. “Maybe we should really fight
the power. Leave our Christmas lights up until
August this year!”
Cindy leaned down
to give her husband a kiss. “Now that’s
the man I married. We’ll do
this…together.”
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