to run in if we need to escape. Baby holds it out in front of her, smoothing down the fabric. She pulls it on over her head.
It’s a little too big, but Baby doesn’t seem to care. She twirls around, making the bottom of the dress billow out into a bell shape.
Thank you, Amy .
You’re welcome . I also took clothes for myself, some dark jeans and a black T-shirt. I got the shirt from a stuffy, messy room plastered with rock posters, a dusty guitar in the corner.
Before I get dressed, I motion Baby over and hand her a pair of scissors. I want you to cut my hair short , I tell her.
How short? Baby wants to know. We usually trim each other’s hair every few months.
Short short , I tell her.
Why? Her own blond hair is sort of thin; it never gets tangled.
Because it’s too hot . I just don’t want to be bothered with it. I haven’t combed it in a week and it is starting to turn into dreadlocks.
You’ll look funny , she warns.
Not if you do a good job . I kneel next to her and hope she can make it sort of straight.
She starts to snip away, tentatively at first, but then she gets into it. I feel the hair drop down my back and all around me. Already I feel lighter. Baby steps back to examine her work.
How does it look? I ask.
Not bad . She bites her lower lip. Not good either .
I slip back into the lake to rinse myself off. My fingers slip through my short hair. I can’t see it but it seems like Baby made it even on both sides, close to my scalp until just above my ear, then a bit longer on top.
I look like a rock star from Before, I try to convince myself. In truth, I already miss having long hair, but it just isn’t practical. Who is there to impress anyway?
I dress in my new clothes, strapping my gun back over my shirt. Baby gathers her things, carefully placing the gun we took off the boy at the house at the top of her bag. I want her to carry it, to use it if necessary. I showed her how. It makes me feel a little safer to know she has it, in case something happens to me.
I heft my bag to my shoulder. Let’s look for a place on the lakefront tonight. We can find a mansion .
O . . . Baby pauses mid word. Did you hear that?
Hear what? I ask, puzzled. I look around and then I see it. A ship, landing.
I turn back to Baby. Run. Now . I sign as the blinding light appears.
Before I have time to turn, I hear a swoosh , and Baby is knocked into me and we fall. Her body weight presses against my chest. I gulp for air. We are a tangle of arms and legs, held tightly inside a strong web of netting. Luckily Baby is mostly on top of me, so I don’t have to worry about crushing her small body.
We begin to move. I twist my head so I can see through the netting. We are being dragged toward the ship, just like the creature, that night with Amber. I can’t reach my gun, but I feel Baby’s hand within my grasp.
Desperately I sign to her. Baby, where is your bag?
Here . She shifts her weight slightly, maneuvering the bag into my hand. I undo the zipper and reach inside. I feel the cool metal of the gun against my fingers. I don’t know what happens inside the ship but I’m going to be ready.
We are almost to the ship doorway, the gaping hole in the side of the craft. We are lifted from the ground and sway within the net for a moment before being deposited roughly onto the floor. I can barely see anything in the dark, but I feel a presence come closer.
Suddenly the net falls away and my hands are free. I roll over Baby into a crouch. The creature looms over us, covered in a shadowy black material from head to toe. I raise my arm, gun in hand, and fire into the creature’s body.
It’s not the recoil of the gun that surprises me. I’m ready for the gun’s push against my arm, the memory of childhood shooting lessons still etched in my mind. What shocks me is the noise. I’ve forgotten how loud things were Before. In the enclosed space, the noise is amplified and my eardrums feel as if they will
It’s a little too big, but Baby doesn’t seem to care. She twirls around, making the bottom of the dress billow out into a bell shape.
Thank you, Amy .
You’re welcome . I also took clothes for myself, some dark jeans and a black T-shirt. I got the shirt from a stuffy, messy room plastered with rock posters, a dusty guitar in the corner.
Before I get dressed, I motion Baby over and hand her a pair of scissors. I want you to cut my hair short , I tell her.
How short? Baby wants to know. We usually trim each other’s hair every few months.
Short short , I tell her.
Why? Her own blond hair is sort of thin; it never gets tangled.
Because it’s too hot . I just don’t want to be bothered with it. I haven’t combed it in a week and it is starting to turn into dreadlocks.
You’ll look funny , she warns.
Not if you do a good job . I kneel next to her and hope she can make it sort of straight.
She starts to snip away, tentatively at first, but then she gets into it. I feel the hair drop down my back and all around me. Already I feel lighter. Baby steps back to examine her work.
How does it look? I ask.
Not bad . She bites her lower lip. Not good either .
I slip back into the lake to rinse myself off. My fingers slip through my short hair. I can’t see it but it seems like Baby made it even on both sides, close to my scalp until just above my ear, then a bit longer on top.
I look like a rock star from Before, I try to convince myself. In truth, I already miss having long hair, but it just isn’t practical. Who is there to impress anyway?
I dress in my new clothes, strapping my gun back over my shirt. Baby gathers her things, carefully placing the gun we took off the boy at the house at the top of her bag. I want her to carry it, to use it if necessary. I showed her how. It makes me feel a little safer to know she has it, in case something happens to me.
I heft my bag to my shoulder. Let’s look for a place on the lakefront tonight. We can find a mansion .
O . . . Baby pauses mid word. Did you hear that?
Hear what? I ask, puzzled. I look around and then I see it. A ship, landing.
I turn back to Baby. Run. Now . I sign as the blinding light appears.
Before I have time to turn, I hear a swoosh , and Baby is knocked into me and we fall. Her body weight presses against my chest. I gulp for air. We are a tangle of arms and legs, held tightly inside a strong web of netting. Luckily Baby is mostly on top of me, so I don’t have to worry about crushing her small body.
We begin to move. I twist my head so I can see through the netting. We are being dragged toward the ship, just like the creature, that night with Amber. I can’t reach my gun, but I feel Baby’s hand within my grasp.
Desperately I sign to her. Baby, where is your bag?
Here . She shifts her weight slightly, maneuvering the bag into my hand. I undo the zipper and reach inside. I feel the cool metal of the gun against my fingers. I don’t know what happens inside the ship but I’m going to be ready.
We are almost to the ship doorway, the gaping hole in the side of the craft. We are lifted from the ground and sway within the net for a moment before being deposited roughly onto the floor. I can barely see anything in the dark, but I feel a presence come closer.
Suddenly the net falls away and my hands are free. I roll over Baby into a crouch. The creature looms over us, covered in a shadowy black material from head to toe. I raise my arm, gun in hand, and fire into the creature’s body.
It’s not the recoil of the gun that surprises me. I’m ready for the gun’s push against my arm, the memory of childhood shooting lessons still etched in my mind. What shocks me is the noise. I’ve forgotten how loud things were Before. In the enclosed space, the noise is amplified and my eardrums feel as if they will
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