quick. The anxiety was clouding
my brain. Desperate thoughts buzzed around in my head – Think, Emily. Think.
Think…Copper.
I
remembered that copper stopped the shifts, but the knife that had been removed
from his side was with Sally. It would take too long for her to get here. Where
was an old copper penny when you needed one? I remember a time when it was easy
to find one on the sidewalk, discarded by the unimportant value of one cent,
but times had changed, and they had become a precious metal. If only.
I
didn’t hesitate, running up the stairs and straight to my room, my feet
carrying me swiftly across the linoleum and carpet. In my dresser was the
answer to my dilemma. It was now a matter of locating it. I dumped each drawer
out on my bed, rummaging through the contents. At last I found it, in the black
velvet box I had put it away in.
Hanging
from a silver chain was the penny my mom had given to me when I was just a
child. Across the bust of Lincoln, someone had punched out a heart shaped hole.
It was a novelty gift bought at a small shop along the beach in South Carolina
while we were on vacation. I still remember begging my mom to get it for me
because it was so unique. At the time, I never would have thought this little
trinket one day might be a life-saving tool.
Tearing
it from its box, I rushed back to the sounds of misery coming from the
basement. I reached the bed in time for them to be muted again. I fumbled with
the cheap clasp, my hands shaking violently to the rhythm of my fluttering
heart. I wasn’t even sure if just its contact would stop his screams, but it
was better than nothing.
The
coin touched his shape of a throat, and instantly his skin began to reform to a
solid mass. Its effect spread throughout the rest of his body, and the scream
began again. For a moment, I considered taking it back off, but chose to ignore
that impulse. I would at least give it a few minutes. I pulled the chain around
his neck, clasping it behind his head. His skin wasn’t nearly as hot as before,
and I assumed that his fever had broken. The feel of my shaking hands must have
alerted him to my presence, for the wails died down to a whimper. At last they
stopped, and he opened his eyes, still filled with fear. I couldn’t help but
jump back, remembering the last time he had been startled. My wrist was still
sore from his grip.
I
wasn’t sure what to say. I knew I had to say something, but the fear he might
be feeling couldn’t compare to how terrified I was. “J–Job? I’m Em–Emily. Do
you remember me?” I wasn’t expecting a reply. He stared at me intently with his
wide brown eyes, as if to respond just by his look.
Now
that he had stopped shifting from solid to sand and back again, it was easy to
see that a lot of the swelling around his eye had come down, allowing him to
see with both. The coloration had gotten worse, creating a kaleidoscope of
blacks and purples with faded edges of green and orange. Perspiration clung to
his skin, and his hair was soaked.
“You
know that you were beat up pretty bad. You’re going to have to stay here for a
while.” He seemed to understand everything that I was saying, and his body
relaxed a bit, not nearly as scared as before. I still didn’t want to move any
closer, afraid he would grab for me again and this time not let go. I held my
hands out of the way behind my back, keeping out of reach.
“I
need to check your stitches. I’m not going to try to hurt you, but I’m sorry if
I do.”
Staying
close to the wall, I scooted around the bed, keeping my distance. I pulled out
a fresh dressing and tape, and proceeded to remove the bloodied one, watching
his hand closely for any sudden moves. Pulling the dressing back, the wound looked
better than it had the first night, with just a small amount of blood collected
between each stitch. Most of it appeared to be healed over, but I wasn’t about
to make that decision without Sally’s opinion. I placed the clean
Yenthu Wentz
Aneesa Price
Suzanne Weyn
Mary Marks
Craig Johnson
Patrice Michelle
Kate McMullan
Sherryl Woods
Steven Savile
Hallie Swanson