JACK KNIFED by Christopher Greyson

days, or I eat that money but—
    Just outside the door, someone placed something down. Jack silently drew his legs up, rolled over, and crouched. He hadn’t heard the footsteps approach, but he did hear them leaving. His hand hesitated on the doorknob for only a moment before he cracked the door open. Next to the door were his clothes, neatly folded in a pile with his shoes on top. He was tempted to sprint down the stairs after her, but instead quietly picked up his clothes and retreated into the room.

He’s A Keeper
    Jack shook.
    Another nightmare…
    He looked at his little hands and the pajamas he was wearing and started to panic. Jack sat on an old couch, in a grimy room. He pulled his legs up tightly against his chest and wrapped his arms around them. His focus was on the cartoon playing on the old television set, but when the bedroom door creaked open, he slid as far over on the couch as he could. His eyes darted to the bedroom door and his throat tightened when he saw a man come out instead of his mother. He clutched his legs and tried to keep his eyes on the television.
    The man sat down at the cluttered kitchen table and wiped the back of his mouth with his hand. His shirt was open, and so was the top button on his jeans. Jack started to rock back and forth as the man continued to stare at him.
    “This the one with the mouse and cat?” The man leaned forward and put his arms on the table. “I know this one.”
    Jack nodded, but tried to keep his eyes straight ahead.
    “You like cartoons, kid?” The man stood up, and Jack froze. “I like cartoons, too.” He walked over and flopped onto the other end of the couch. Jack could smell him from there. Smoke and other foul odors turned his stomach, but he tried not to make a face. The man grabbed a small cigarette from the ashtray and lit it.
    “How old are you?” He turned his head toward Jack as he exhaled, and the cloud wafted over the little boy like a smoky blanket. The man’s voice was deep and, when he talked, Jack could see his yellowed teeth.
    “Six.” Jack kept his eyes on the television, but he could feel the man move slightly closer to him.
    “Do you—?”
    Jack jumped off the couch and sprinted for the bathroom. He didn’t turn around when he heard the footsteps behind him, but Jack yanked over the kitchen chair as he passed it to block the man’s path.
    “Stupid,” the man snarled from behind.
    Jack slammed the bathroom door, and his heart sank as he looked at the knob. No lock. He turned his back to the door and pressed his legs against the bathroom cabinet. The man crashed into the door, partly forcing it open before Jack was able to slam it shut again.
    Jack braced himself, and the man pushed hard against the door. Slowly, it opened until the man’s arm appeared. His hand grabbed vainly as it reached for Jack.
    “Out,” Jack screamed as he shrank down and pushed harder. His legs burned, and the man’s hand got closer to him.
    Don’t stop! He’ll get you. Push, you stupid idiot.
    Jack shoved harder, but his little legs began to shake.
    The man grabbed Jack by his hair and slammed his head back into the door. Jack’s eyes rolled back, and he fell on the floor. The man’s fingers tightened around a clump of Jack’s hair and he dragged him out from behind the door.
    Jack twisted around and bit his wrist. The man screamed, and his hand opened so that Jack could scramble backward to the far end of the bathroom.
    I’m trapped.
    Jack turned back around, and the man slowly pushed the door the rest of the way open. The man rubbed his wrist, his face twisted in pain.
    “You’re gonna pay for that, you little—”
    “Get away from him!”
    Mommy!
    The man backed away from the door. Jack’s mother crouched low and stood between Jack and the man. She clutched a knife in her hand.
    “You crazy whore,” the man shrieked, and Jack heard him fall over the chair.
    “Get out!” His mother waved the knife in front of her.
    Jack ran up and