Myth...myth...

Lori flopped down dramatically at the table, “I swear some days I feel like Pandora!”

“The music thing?” Jed asked.

“No not the music thing!”

“The jewelry company then? The one with all the little charms that middle aged soccer moms love. Are you something that middle aged soccer moms love?”

“No! Not that. The myth woman. You know the one that told the truth but nobody believed her.”

Janice shook her head, “That wasn’t Pandora.”

“No, that was that umm…Sisyphus.” Jed said pulling the name out of the deep reaches of his brain.

“No, not Sisyphus either. You mean Cassandra. Sisyphus was the king that was punished for pissing off Zeus and a number of other gods. He had to roll the boulder up the hill only to see it roll back down right before he was finished so he would have to start all over again. Pandora was the first human woman created by the gods. She was given a box that contained all of the evil in the world and was instructed not to open it. She, of course, did and boom here we are today.”

“Of course she did.” Jed said, “Can’t trust a woman. Just like Eve and the apple.”

Janice nodded her head, “Yes, just like Eve and the apple. Amazing how the creation myths written and passed down by men find a way to blame women for all the evils in the world right? Seems like that might be…”

“GUYS! We are getting a little side tracked here.” Lori really wanted to talk about her day.

“You’re right.” Jed agreed, “What I want to really know is if Pandora was responsible for all the bad stuff why would a music company and a jewelry company want to name themselves after her?”

“Most likely because 80% of the population just remembers the name from some class a long time ago and has no idea what Pandora’s Box really was.”

“But people look shit up all the time now. You used to be able to just say stuff and now everyone is an instant fact checker. You can’t fudge your numbers, or miss a quote. They are all over you! I’d have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for those meddling kids and their Google!”

“There is a difference between fact checking and learning though. Most of that stuff doesn’t stick. You look it up to win an argument, you read it off, you move along.”

“True. But still you would think we would remember more than just the names from the old myths.”

“People aren’t smart as a rule. No offense.”

Jed smiled, “None taken. I just am glad I was here to help you look smarter than the rest of us.”

“GUYS! I’m Cassandra!” Lori was a getting more than a little irritated.

“Oh right, okay, Cassandra, tell us what’s bothering you so we can ignore you and think you are lying.” Jed teased.

Lori rolled her eyes. “Are you all done yet?”

“Hmm…probably not, but you tell your story now.”

Janice laughed, “Yes, we will be good. Go on. How are you Cassandra?”

“It’s work. I swear I am always telling them how things are going to work out and they never believe me! See? Cassandra.”

“You’re always right?”

“Yes, Jed, always!”

“Narcissus.”

“Excuse me?”

“I think you are Narcissus, not Cassandra.”

Lori glared at him.

“She’s not like Narcissus. Narcissus fell in love with his own reflection and drowned. Lori isn’t vain.”

“Thank you, Janice.” Lori glared at Jed.

“It’s probably more confirmation bias.”

“What? Seriously?”

“Yeah, I mean nobody is always right. And if they never listened to you they probably would have fired you by now. So most likely you are only remembering the times when you were right and they didn’t listen to you and not the times you were wrong or the times they did listen. See? Confirmation bias. We all do it.”

Lori pulled out her phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking up bad friends in Greek Mythology!”

Janice laughed, “Sorry, honey. You’re right. I’m not being really supportive. I’ll stop.”

Jed grinned, “Me too. You tell us all about it, and Janice will make supportive noises and I will make vaguely threatening remarks toward anyone who has wronged you. Then we will get drinks and toast to their eventual demise. All because they didn’t listen to the wise Cassandra.”

Lori tried not to grin but couldn’t help it. “Okay, deal.”

Perspective...

Poppa stopped at the door and sniffed. A low growl sounded in the back of his throat.

“She’s been here again.”

Momma stepped close to him and took a deep breath, she could smell her too.

“Now, don’t lose your cool. Let’s just step back and call the police.”

“The police? Because they were so helpful last time?

Poppa growled again just thinking about it. The insulting questions. The nasty insinuations. “Why would a sweet thing like that stalk you?” “Are you sure that you aren’t somehow encouraging her to be here?” and the worst, “We noticed the bathroom hadn’t been disturbed, I guess it’s not really a woods theme?”

Momma patted his back, “They will have to see that it’s a problem.”

“They only see what they want to.”

Poppa stepped slowly in to the house, “Junior stay back here with your mother. I’m going to make sure she’s gone.” He wasn’t worried about their safety. Nobody messed with Momma when she was guarding her boy.

He started in the kitchen. The first time it had happened she had come in here. That was the time they blamed themselves. Dinner was supposed to be a lovely stew that Momma had spent all day cooking. They had decided to take a quick walk before dinner to give it time to cool off enough to eat. When they got home they found that Junior’s bowl was completely empty and both his and Momma’s had been tampered with. But they couldn’t remember if they had locked the door when they left. In fact they were pretty certain they hadn’t. They lived far out on the edge of Town, nobody usually bothered them out here. But that was before. When they felt safe. And really all that had happened was someone ate some of their food. Momma had a good heart, she said that if they had come in to eat they must have really needed it. And nothing else had been disturbed so it was fine. They still dumped what was left, no sense risking it, and had ordered in a pizza. But that had only been the first time. Now even good hearted Momma was at the end of her patience.

He sniffed around the kitchen, she had been in here, but hadn’t stayed. But she had been in his house again. Touching his things. What did she do this time? He knew it would be something. She was a nasty piece of work.

Poppa stopped for a moment to compose himself. It wouldn’t do him any good to get any angrier than he already was. Right now his first priority was making sure the house was clear. Then he and Momma would talk about moving. Again. He hated to go. They had found this house when their old neighborhood had become a battle zone between that clan of pigs and their landlord. Poppa had sensed that things might go badly if they kept escalating their battles so sadly he had put their house on the market. He was ahead of the curve. He had been able to sell that old brick house that they had loved so much. And they got out just ahead of the complete collapse of the market. They had talked about moving to Momma’s home town in Alaska. He wasn’t sure about that. Though he could grow a thick coat as well as the next guy he really didn’t like the cold that much. So they had decided just to move a little farther out of Town. Live on the edge of the woods. Where it was safer. Ha! Safer…He didn’t like thinking about moving his family again.

What was wrong with the world today? Just a few months ago he had read about the slaughter of an old school chum of Momma’s. He had been eviscerated. Slit from throat to belly. Violent. Cruel. And of course the media reported it (at first) as if he had been the violent one. His killer would have gotten away with too if there hadn’t been security footage found at her grandmother’s house showing that “sweet little girl” collaborating with her much too old for her lover. Killing Granny over the inheritance and blaming their neighbor. Prejudice prevailing. Of course HE would be the guilty one, HE was a wolf after all! We know what they are like. Meanwhile sweet little girls are never looked at twice. Though we all know that sweet little girls grow up to be vicious witches living in candy houses. But NOBODY wants to talk about it. It’s so much easier to blame the wolves. It made his fur crawl.

He went in to the living room. His lip curled and he bared his teeth when he looked at Junior’s brand new chair. The one they had to buy when she had busted up his old one the second time she broke in. That was the time he had called the police. The King’s Guard had shown up and done a perfunctory search. Not trusting his sense of smell. Not believing that they were the victims of a crime and that they even knew who it was that was harassing them. They had gone to her house to question her but all she had to do was toss her little blonde curls and bat her big blue eyes and they were certain she was innocent. How could someone so sweet even break Junior’s chair? Wasn’t it more likely that Poppa had lost his temper and broken it himself? They completely ignored the hungry smile she gave to Junior when she thought no one was looking. She was a wrong one, that one. But of course the King’s Guard didn’t believe him. What did he expect? They hadn’t even bothered to look in to his cousin Humpty’s death. Called it suicide. Wouldn’t hear that he might have been pushed. Poor guy, no justice, in pieces. He was a good egg, too.

He looked around the living room. A low growl rumbled in his throat. She had been in here. She had sat in all of the chairs. Again. Taunting them. Mocking them. He looked closer at Junior’s new chair. Was that a scratch in the arm? His lips pulled back and he snarled; she had carved in the arm of the chair GL+BB=TLF He knew if he showed this to the police they would say Junior had done it. Even though he would NEVER call himself that. It had been kindergarten since anyone else had.

Momma heard the warning growl, “Are you okay, dear?” she called out.

“Fine. Stay there. Let me check upstairs.”

He started with their bedroom. The scent was stronger here. She had been in their room. And recently. He looked at their bed and froze…she had been in their bed. The comforter was messed up and the decorative pillows Momma insisted on arranging just so had been moved. He placed a giant paw on the bed took a deep breath. How dare she? She had been here. In his room. Violating what should be the safest of spaces in his house. Taking a deep breath he caught the scent trail again and moved, knowing where it would lead him. Trying to tamp down anger, fear, and disgust as he moved down the hallway toward Junior’s room. The scent strong now. His nose quivering….

He opened the door to see the window open and the curtains fluttering. He could see the edge of the emergency fire escape ladder hooked to the sill. He loped quickly to the window and caught sight of her running down the path. He growled a warning after her and heard the returning giggle on the wind. He turned around and saw that she had been sleeping in Junior’s bed. Just waiting for them to get home. He fell to the floor and put his head in his paws and tried to keep from sobbing. What if he hadn’t realized she had been here, what if Junior had been surprised by her? Momma and Junior came running upstairs in response to his last growl. They found him still sitting on the floor. Rocking back and forth. The family wrapped their arms around each other and whispered “it will be all right” over and over.

They put the house on the market the next day.

Alaska wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Recall Notice...

"I'm sorry, we have uncovered a defect in your soul and are issuing a recall. We apologize for the inconvenience."

He read the email again. Weirdest damn thing ever. Then he deleted it and went on with his day.

An hour later his phone buzzed. Text message.

"I'm sorry, we have uncovered a defect in your soul and are issuing a recall. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

What the hell? The return number was blocked. No way to reply. One of his friends was messing with his head; had to be.

Knock at the door. Postal worker with a registered letter.

"I'm sorry, we have uncovered a defect in your soul and are issuing a recall. We apologize for the inconvenience."

This was a lot of work to go to for a joke. He knew then that is was his buddy Al. Al was always up for a prank and no set up was too much.

He sent him a text. “Good one. You had me going for a minute.”

The reply came: “That’s what she said.”

Then the next: “But what are you talking about?”

So not Al. He would own up to any joke as soon as he was found out. Taking credit was part of the joy.

How could his soul have a defect? What does that even mean? And how could it be recalled? That wasn’t possible. Right?

He stopped himself. Really? Really, Ed? You are believing this now? Come on…

He called his girlfriend.

“I had the weirdest thing happen today…” He told her about the email, the text, the letter. She would make him feel better. “Defective soul. Crazy right?”

There was a pause.

“Well…I can sort of see it.”

“What? You can sort of see that I have a defective soul? What the fuck, Julie?”

“Well, you never cry. Like ever. Not at Titanic. Not at The Notebook, not even at Brian’s Song and every dude cries at Brian’s Song.”

“Not crying doesn’t mean I have a defective soul. It just means I don’t like to cry in public. Damn, Julie, that’s harsh.”

“Sorry, I’m just saying it doesn’t seem that far out to me. Can they fix it?”

“Swear to god, Julie, you are pissing me off. I cannot have this conversation with you. I will talk to you later.”

And with that he hung up. So he didn’t cry at movies, what the hell, that didn’t mean anything. He cried. He cried when…he thought for a little bit. He knew he cried when his dog died. Or at least he felt like he had. But now that he was thinking about it he hadn’t really. He had been sad. Or at least he felt like he knew he should be sad. No! He had been sad! Julie was just messing with his head now. His soul was perfectly fine.

He called his mother. She would make him feel better.

“Oh my…”

“Oh my? That’s all you have to say? Oh my?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing. I mean it’s probably a joke. It seems a little late for them to be noticing a defect now.”

“Noticing it now? As in you think it’s always been there?”

“Now, don’t get so worked up, Edward. You know how you are when your temper flares.”

“How I am? I’m fine! I don’t have a temper problem.”

“Of course you don’t, darling, of course you don’t. The letter didn’t say anything about what caused it did it? I mean, I only had the one glass of wine while I was pregnant with you, I’m sure that couldn’t have been it, right?”

“Jesus, Mother! You are worried if this is your fault now?”

“Parents always worry if what their children suffer from is their fault. But your brother and sister are just fine so I am sure it’s nothing I did. I’ve got to get going, I need to get dinner started. You know how your father is when he’s hungry. Hmmm…maybe I should ask him if he got a letter. Bye, darling, love you.”

He couldn’t believe it. First Julie and now his mother? What the hell was wrong with people.

His phone rang.

Unknown number.

He ignored it.

It rang again.

He sent it directly to voice mail.

It rang again.

Fine. He answered it.

"I'm sorry, we have uncovered a defect in your soul and are issuing a recall. We apologize for the inconvenience."

“Look! Whoever you are, this isn’t funny anymore.”

"I'm sorry, we have uncovered a defect in your soul and are issuing a recall. We apologize for the inconvenience."

“I’m not kidding! This isn’t funny! I am going to report you to the authorities! This is harassment!”

“We are the authorities, Edward.”

He froze. Gooseflesh crept up his arms. He shivered.

“Edward.”

“Yes?”

"I'm sorry, we have uncovered a defect in your soul and are issuing a recall. We apologize for the inconvenience."

It wasn’t a joke. They were taking his soul.

“Wh…” he paused and cleared his throat, “When?”

“Please be advised that a representative for the All Souls, Inc. firm will be arriving within the next…”

The was a knock at the door.

“Edward?”

“Yes?”

“Answer the door.”

He hung up the phone and opened the door. A man and a woman in matching business suits stood on his threshold. The man handed him business card and the woman said:

"I'm sorry, we have uncovered a defect in your soul and are issuing a recall. We apologize for the inconvenience."

Ed tried to keep his cool.

“Yeah, I got that part. Thanks.”

They walked in to his apartment and sat on the couch.

“Please take a seat. We have some paperwork to review.”

Of course there would be paperwork. He had never seen a recall notice that didn’t include paperwork.

He started to read through the sheets as they handed them to him pointing out spaces where he would need to initial.

Standard legalese. He acknowledged being notified of the recall. He agreed to limit disputes to arbitration in a neutral court. He understood the risks involved in soul replacement.

“Wait, what risks?”

“Every procedure involves certain risks. This is nothing more than what you signed when you had your tonsils taken out.”

“My tonsils are not the same as my soul. And what do you mean taken out? You are taking my soul? Can’t you just install a patch or something?”

“A patch? To fix a defect? Like we are Microsoft?”

With that they both laughed. Or at least that’s what Ed thought they were doing. It wasn’t a sound like he had heard before.

“No, Edward, we will be taking your soul and replacing it with a new one.”

“A new one? How does that even work? I mean, isn’t my soul me? If you give me a new soul it won’t really be my soul anymore will it?”

The woman cocked her head to the side, “A new soul is more than fair compensation. You are 32 years old. This one has a lot of wear on it.”

“But it’s my wear. That’s my point. A new one won’t be me.”

It was the man’s turn to cock his head now, “If we give you the soul then it is yours. You will be you, after a fashion.”

Ed looked at them both. Heads tilted to the side. Truly puzzled that he might not want their brand new non-defective soul.

“After a fashion? But I like who I am. Is it really that serious of a defect. I mean, it’s not like I’m a mass murderer or anything. I’m no Jeffrey Dahmer. I just don’t cry at Brian’s Song. That’s not that big of a deal, right?”

The woman started tidying up the stacks of paper.

"I'm sorry, we have uncovered a defect in your soul and are issuing a recall. We apologize for the inconvenience."

“Yes. You keep saying that. That’s your standard answer for everything. I am telling you that I reject your offer and will keep my defective soul, thank you very much.”

This time the man answered. “Jeffrey Dahmer did not have a defective soul.”

“What the fuck? The dude ate people!”

“As that may be…”

“As that may be? What is wrong with you people? You are recalling my soul because I don’t cry at movies and saying his soul was just fine and he FUCKING ATE PEOPLE!”

“That was not our division. Your issue falls in to our division.”

Ed clenched his jaw.

“You two need to leave and you need to tell your boss that I am rejecting his proposal to recall my soul. I will be living with my defective soul, now leave.”

The two exchanged a quick glance and shrugged their shoulders. They gathered their paperwork and stood to leave.

As Ed walked them to the door his phone rang again.

“Tell your people to stop calling me as well. I’m not interested.”

With that he showed the two All Souls, Inc. representatives out and slammed the door before they could tell him about his defective soul one more time.

He sat down on the couch. That’s when he noticed the letter they left behind. He didn’t even want to open it. He knew what it would say.

"I'm sorry, we have uncovered a defect in your soul and are issuing a recall. We apologize for the inconvenience."

Of course. But it went on.

“Due to your refusal of a replacement soul we will no longer be recalling this soul for replacement, repair, and reissue. Please be prepared for a representative of Disposals, LLC a subsidiary of All Souls, Inc. to visit you. Our representative will be arriving…”

There was a knock at the door.

Slowly...

One claw hooked in to the edge of the dangling blanket. Slowly, carefully. If he can move it more. If he can pull it all the way down. Uncovering the sleeping figures above him. Off limits if they were covered, but all his if they weren’t. Rules. But there were no rules that he could not help uncover them. Pulling carefully. Waiting…the half asleep male tries to pull the blanket back but he draws out another claw holding it still…the male will give up. One more try and…he hears the frustrated sigh, “you’re hogging the blankets….” But the female is asleep and can’t hear him. The male grabs the edge of blanket and tries to cover back up. Eventually falling asleep. The soft snores are the signal.

Waiting…claws still holding the blanket. Still. He has experience at this. He’s come close before. But the rules. Once they are awake he is banished. Once it is light outside he is banished. Only in the dark and in while they sleep can he do his work. One time he was about to steal away the female’s breath and she woke. Almost seeing him in the dark in the split second before he was banished.

Slowly pulling the blanket again. The male is uncovered now. He could just take the male. He thinks about it. Waiting. Claws holding the blanket. Teeth gleaming in the moonlight. But he wants them both. He’s never been this close. Inch by inch. Now gravity helps…the blanket slides off. It covers him. Warm from the woman sleeping. Blankets…warmth…he tries to fight it but can’t keep his eyes open. Just a few minutes then he will strike.

She wakes up with the sunrise. Chilly. The blankets have fallen off the bed. She reaches down to pull them back. Stops. Looks. Her husband makes a sleepy sound behind her, “You awake?”

“Yeah, look at this.” She whispers to him.

He leans over her peering over the edge. He sees him curled in the middle of the blankets. A ball of fur in a sunbeam.

“Spoiled thing. He must have pulled them off so he could have them all!”

And in his dreams the cat stretches his claws and bares his teeth…another night, another time.

The Interview...

“Do you mind if I record this?”

“No, I don’t mind, but I don’t think it will do you any good.”

“Why is that?”

“Something in the tone of my voice, or the pitch, I don’t know, but something seems to cause fits with recording equipment. But go ahead. I’d just still take good notes if I were you.”

“Okay, well, I’ll try anyway. So let’s begin. You stated that you were the last of a dying breed. Why do you feel this way?”

“When I first got in to the business there were hundreds of thousands of us with more coming up every day. Now? It’s few and far between to find someone willing to put in the work.”

“Why do you think that is? Is it a change in the environment or a change in desires?”

“That’s part of it. The environment. Fifty years ago? Kids went to bed, the light was turned out, they were left to deal with things on their own. Now? There’s a night light in every room. If they even sleep alone. The door is open, their parents come running for every slight whimper in the night. You cannot do good work like that. And if you do find a kid on their own they just aren’t scared anymore. I blame the movies.”

“The movies? You mean like Monsters Inc?”

“No, though those were pretty funny. I appreciated what they tried to do there, say we are from a different world and that we learned how to live on laughter. That’s adorable.”

“So you aren’t from another world?”

“Please.We have been here as long as you have. Maybe we were even here first.”

“So why do you blame the movies if it’s not those movies?”

“Kids today watch scary movies and they aren’t scared. Because their parents are sitting right there explaining how they work. Why it’s not real. Why it’s not scary. So when they do see something, they can talk themselves out of it. They don’t think anything is real. The things that go bump in the night are just things. Movies and parents. Just killing off the industry.”

“But you are still working?”

“Oh yeah, I adapt. I saw it in the 70s when everyone started sleeping in platform water beds. A whole generation of Unders was forced out of work.”

“Unders? That’s how you refer to yourselves?”

“That’s a job division yes. Unders, under the bed monsters, Closets, those are the ones in your closet, DH, those are dark hallway dwellers, Subs, those are the basement guys. You get the point.”

“Interesting. And you all work together?”

“Yes, we all work for the same company. Just different specializations. Though an Upper could take over for Sub pretty easily and I’ve spent some time as a Closet when that was more effective, but usually you train in one area, you stay in that area.”

“So tell me something about what it is you actually do.”

“You don’t know?”

“Well, I have a general idea, you hide and scare people. But there has to be more to it than that.”

“There is so much more. I don’t hide and scare people. I am a growth facilitator. I am one of the things that makes you stronger. Because I can’t actually kill you. The rules you know.”

“The rules? So there are actual rules?”

“Of course there are rules. There are always rules. I only work at night. I only work in the dark or the deep shadows. I cannot actually kill you. I must respect the blanket. Though I have no idea why anyone wouldn’t do that one just naturally.”

“Naturally?”

“Yes, it nature. Think about it. How do you protect yourself from the Things that go Bump in the Night?”

She stopped and thought.

“Don’t take too long here, you already know. Imagine you are in your bed and you get that feeling, that creeping up your arm feeling. That someone is watching me feeling. What do you do?”

“I hide under the blanket.”

“Exactly! And who taught you to hide under the blanket?”

She looked puzzled, “I don’t remember. But it had to be someone. I mean I know we all did it.”

“You all did do it. And nobody told any of you to do it. It’s natural. You hide under the blanket and I will never touch the blanket. It’s the way it’s been since time began. Something in your little lizard brain that still acts on instinct recognizes the safety of the blanket and something in my giant lizard brain recognizes the threat. So you use it, I respect it. And I wait for a foot, or a hand to drop out from under it so I can take it.”

“But if you can’t kill us, then why wait for a hand or foot?”

“What if I decide to break the rules? You never know if that night, the one you sleep with your arm dangling off the edge of the bed is the night I say, ‘Fuck it, I was going to quit anyway’ and just take you.”

She shuddered.

“See? That’s why it’s important. You just never know what an Under is capable of. I mean we aren’t as creepy as a Sub, they work all the time, day or night. No lights in the basement after all.”

“Okay, so back to how you adapted. How you stayed in your line of work when so many have been pushed out.”

“I recognized early on that though the children might have been our bread and butter in the early years now that the adults were hovering so much that wasn’t going to work. So I asked myself, why are the adults hovering? I mean their parents didn’t hover. Why are they hovering? And I realized they never got over it. And so they wanted to make sure their kids never had to experience it at all. Well….you see where that would lead right?”

“No. Actually I don’t. I’m sorry, why would that lead to anything other than a whole generation of kids who aren’t scared of the umm…Unders?”

“The kids might not be scared. But the adults still were. So I just switched up my routine. Instead of going into little Johnny’s room, I head straight for mommy and daddy’s. Now it takes a little more, let’s say creativity to scare them, but it can be done. I have good partners.”

“Partners? Like the Closets and the Subs?”

“Nah, those are co-workers,I mean partners. Hey, do you mind if I smoke?”

She was horrified, “Yes, actually I do. My father died from lung cancer. I cannot stand to be around it.”

“See? Partners. We work together, you and I. You tell me what you are scared of and I whisper it to you in the dark.”

“You use people’s fears against them? No wonder you are monsters.”

“Hey, now. Don’t come at me like that. Just because you are a non-scarer doesn’t give you the space to judge me in my world. You need to understand that scare-neutral might be scare-normative where you are living, but that doesn’t make me a monster.”

She sat back a bit in her chair, “Oh I am sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“See? Partners. I was with a social activist for a few months last summer. I learned a lot of tricks from her that I can apply in my work now.”

“Wow. Okay, what else do you use?”

“Mostly it’s like judo. I just take their momentum and work with it. Don’t fight the person you are working with, flow with them. Like what I said about the activist? The things I learned from her I can only use on a certain set of people. You have to be inclined toward caring what people think of you for that to work. Ironically it’s the people who are most kind that worry about being kind. If I used that on some dude who prides himself on his “I’ll never be PC” mantra, that wouldn’t work at all. BUT…whisper in the ear of that guy that he’s a failure at work? That people are talking about him behind his back. That they think he’s weak? Well he’s tossing and turning all night and I am just basking in the waves of fear coming off of him. If I’m really on my game I might get both him and his wife. She’s laying there wondering what that text he tried to hide from her said while he is afraid she saw that text he tried to hide from her. Or maybe I can get them both afraid that they are bad parents, or don’t have enough money, or aren’t attractive anymore. So many things to work with.”

“So what do you do with that fear?”

“It sustains me. The only thing that feeds fear is fear. I couldn’t exist otherwise. I make you afraid, you feed me. Partners.”

“Do all of you feed on fear?”

“Yes. We all do. And if you get a lot of us in one space then the cycle is pretty constant. Awake, almost asleep, asleep you are in a solid state of dread.”

“Give me an example of how that would work.”

“Say you’re sitting on the couch watching TV and you hear a noise from upstairs, but you know you are home alone. You get a little twinge of fear. Now you might tell yourself it’s just the house settling, but you know.”

“Well it is probably just the house settling.”

“You think? What a weird thing to think. I mean what does that mean anyway? The house is settling? It’s something your father probably told you when you were little and so you never questioned it. But for the house to settle it would have had to move during the day. And isn’t that even more frightening than realizing it’s an Upper taking a little walk in the attic, or maybe a DH pacing upstairs waiting for you to come up. Hoping that tonight is the night you don’t turn on the light, or the bulb burns out…”

“Ummm, are all of the Things that Go Bump in the Night subject to the same rules?

“The same rules? No, each division has their own rules.”

“So can some of them actually kill you?”

“Actually kill you or just scare you to death?”

“Is there a difference?”

“To an Under maybe, but to a Sub? Well, they walk a fine line.”

“Just the Subs?”

“Well all of us really. Given the chance there is no telling what we might do. Like right now your foot is uncovered…”

She woke with a start. A cool breeze playing against her uncovered leg. She shivered and pulled it under the blanket. Then decided to go ahead and pull the blanket over her head. Just in case. She tried to not hear the soft laughter coming from under her bed…

Quiz Show...

“Samantha. Come in. Sit down.”

Sam settled in to the chair across the desk from her boss. Well, the boss of her boss actually. She had been bumped up the chain of command this morning.

“I assume you know why you are here today?”

Sam started to answer but realized it was actually a rhetorical question when Ms. Averson kept talking.

“I want to read a few things to you. ‘You are highly capable and strong. Your friends look to you for solid answers in times of chaos.’ Here is another: ‘You are mysterious and deep. You don’t let people in very often but once you do you are committed to them for life.’ Do these sound familiar?”

Sam waited again.

“Do they sound familiar?”

Oh, okay, this time she was supposed to answer, “Yes. They are examples from the quiz handbook.”

“Not just examples, Samantha. Templates. You have 8 standard templates you are to work from, Samantha. And each of those 8 templates has 6 variations. Now I want you to listen to these: ‘Your lack of perspective is astounding. There are billions of stars in the galaxy and even the ones that are already dead shine brighter than you.’ And this one, ‘Your over inflated sense of self worth is off putting to your friends and acquaintances alike. Pretend to get lost. See how many people notice. It won’t be as many as you think. It will be two. Only two.’ Do these sound familiar?”

“Yes. They are answers to the “What do People Really Think of You?” quiz.”

“Now, do those answers sound ANYTHING like the other ones I read?”

“No.”

“Then why were they possible outcomes on your quiz?”

“Well, because that’s what the result was.”

“That is my point. They should not have been the result. How did they become the result?”

“Because that’s how people answered the questions.”

Ms. Averson closed her eyes for a moment and rocked her head slowly from side to side. Sam could see she was feeling a little stressed. She should probably take the “What’s the Best Vacation Spot for You” quiz and head on out.

“Do you find this funny?”

“Excuse me?”

“I see you smiling over there. Do you think this is funny?”

Sam thought for a second. The answer was yes, absolutely. After all she had been hired to write “Scarily Accurate” quizzes and was being reprimanded for writing them too accurately. So yes, it was pretty funny. But she wasn’t stupid. She knew the expected answer was no, not at all. It was just very difficult for Sam to lie. She found it to be a waste of time. “I don’t think you think it’s funny.”

“You’re right. I don’t find this funny at all. We cannot release a quiz like this to the general public.”

“Why not? I mean, it’s not wrong. I think it could be the best work we’ve done.”

“It is absolutely not the best work we’ve done. It is nothing like what we do. You did this all on your own. This doesn’t follow our algorithms. It doesn’t follow our templates.”

“The math works. I used the quiz answers and the access they allowed to their Facebook profiles, and their friend’s lists, and what comes up when you Google them. It’s a very complex algorithm but it only takes a few seconds to process the results and I included that really cute cat animation to watch while it works if those few seconds seem too long.”

“I actually do like the cat animation.”

Sam smiled and started to go on…

“HOWEVER, you cannot have a quiz where a possible outcome is, ‘People think you are a pushover and take advantage of you at every turn. Nothing in your life so far disproves this theory. In fact, you should check your husbands texts tonight. You will be AMAZED at the results.’ This is not okay.”

“Well, that one is fairly rare.Okay, not as rare as I would have thought, but still it’s not the most common outcome.”

“Samantha, you cannot tell people their spouses are cheating on them through a quiz result.”

“Why not? They are taking a scarily accurate Facebook quiz where they want to know what people really think of them. This is a scarily accurate quiz that tells them just that.”

“That’s exactly it. People do not actually want to know what people think of them. That would be insane. They don’t want to know that the dog they would be is ‘abandoned’ they don’t want to know that if they were a color they would be ‘institutional green’ that isn’t why people take these quizzes, Samantha.”

So Ms. Averson had seen her previous work. Her father always said that it was good to make a name for yourself. Seems like Sam had.

“People take these quizzes to feel good about themselves. Every result we give them, every answer they see, there is always something that is positive. Always something general enough that it could apply to anyone, yet specific sounding. We aren’t in the business of telling people who they are, we are in the business of validating who people think they are. So you can see that we cannot use any of the quizzes you have designed. This really leaves us no choice….”

Sam knew then that she was being fired. Actually she had known when she was called to Ms. Averson’s office. If it were going to be just another suggestion that she be less accurate and more cut and paste he boss would have handled it. She had already started running down possible job leads in her head. She could always see if her cousin Jill knew of any openings.

“Samantha, did you hear me?”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Averson. You were firing me?”

“Firing you? No, I was offering you a transfer.”

“A transfer? What else does QuizMasters.com do besides make quizzes.”

“QuizMasters.com is just one of our subsidiary companies. We are part of a much larger network. We have search engines, shopping sites, email servers (though those don’t get much use anymore), photo sharing sites, special interest bloggers. We really cover a wide range of on-line activity and we feel as though your talents will be better put to use someplace else.”

“I’m not much of a shopper.”

“No, Samantha, we don’t want to move you to another branch, we’d like to move you more toward the central company. Transfer you to headquarters. The algorithm you designed caught my eye and when I showed it to my boss, well, let’s just say she is very interested in your work.”

“So I’m not being fired?”

“No.”

“Hunh.”

“I would like to set up a second set of interviews for tomorrow.”

“Second set?”

“Why yes, this has been the first. We needed to see what you would say and how you would react when confronted with your work. You passed. Now we need to move along and see if you would be a good fit at headquarters. And if you are interested. I think you will be. The results you got here with limited data, very impressive. When you see what you would have access to there? Well…like I said, search engines, email servers, shopping sites, photo sharing, you get the idea. Are you interested?”

Sam thought about it. She didn’t have anything else to do right now so why not. “Sure.”

Ms. Averson picked up her phone and dialed her assistant, “Please book Samantha Green on the next shuttle to DC. Thank you.”

“Good luck, Samantha. And do you mind if I keep the cat animation?”

Untitled...

Thwack…Thwack…Thwack…the ball hit the brick wall over and over again.

“Could you please stop that?”

Thwack… Thwack….Thwack…throw, bounce, catch, throw, bounce, catch.

“I’m bored.”

Thwack…Thwack… Thwack…

“You wouldn’t be bored if you would stop that and let me think. I can’t think with that.”

Thwack… Thwack…Thwack…

“I let you think all morning. You didn’t do anything with it. Why would you start now?”

Thwack… Thwack…Thwack…

“STOP IT! Just stop it!”

“Fine…think.” she sneered.

She took a deep breath. Now she would be able to do something.

“How about you? What do you have to say?” She looked over to the corner.

“I don’t want to be here. I want to read. I’ve got three books waiting. Why do you need all of us to be here?”

“I need you all to be here to HELP me. I could use some help.”

She sighed, “Fine, but I have three books waiting.”

“OH my god! You have to see this! Seriously look at how funny this is!”

“It’s not going to be funny. You are just trying to distract me so she can slip out and read her books. I know you two too well.”

“Fine, but it was funny. Now you’ll never know.” She mouthed the word sorry toward the corner.

“I saw that! Did you think I wouldn’t see that?”

She rolled her eyes, “What ever…”

“There are cookies in the kitchen. We could go get cookies.”

“Don’t you start now! Anyway, you had cookies for lunch.”

“Yeah but there are more in the kitchen. And you know the sugar would help you think I bet.”

“No more cookies! Stop suggesting cookies.”

“How about chips?”

“Stop it. Go sit over there with her. You can talk about the cookies you want to eat while she talks about the books she wants to read.”

Thwack…Thwack…Thwack…

“WHAT DID I SAY?”

“Bored now…”

“I don’t care if you are bored now. Stop it with the ball or I will take it away and throw it outside!”

“OH! Are we going out? Let me get my shoes. Are we walking? Or hiking? Should I grab the camera? It’s a little chilly I should put on a sweatshirt. I really need some new sweaters. Maybe we should shop a little too. I have this really great website we could check super quick.”

“Stop it! No we aren’t going outside. No we aren’t shopping. I am thinking.”

She rolled her eyes, “Really? It looks like you are fighting with everyone else to me. A hike or some shopping would be better.”

“Thinking!”

“Fine!”

She looked toward the window, “Do you see anything out there?”

“Trees. The one still has leaves while the others are all bare.”

“Is that something you can work with?”

“Are you seriously trying to pawn this off on me?”

“I’m asking for some help. I just thought you know, dead trees might spark something rhymey.”

“Rhymey? You think that’s what I do? Just come up with rhymey words? Rhymey isn’t even a real word. You're being condescending.”

“Can you work with that? With condescending things?”

“The trees are as barren as your mind…how is that for a start then?”

“So that’s a yes? Could you stretch it a little maybe?”

“How fucking dare you! I cannot believe you would treat me like this!” And with that she stormed away.

Thwack…Thwack…Thwack… "You know she’s sensitive. You can’t really expect her just to perform for you after you insulted her like that.”

“STOP WITH THE FUCKING BALL! I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL SHOVE IT DOWN YOUR THROAT!”

“Oh! Are we ranting?? I have rants I have just been storing up! Let’s go! Politics? Trigger Warnings? Safe Spaces? Tender hearts and soft brains? Let’s go!”

“No, sorry. We aren’t. Not today. Maybe if I could think for awhile you could. But I really need to get this done first. Do you have any help for me?”

“That’s not really my thing. I don’t deal with your stuff. I mean, I guess we could change the names to protect the innocent? But that’s not really what you’re looking for.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Hey.” A quiet voice came from behind her.

“What?”

“Did you want to go to the bar?”

“Don’t you think I tried that earlier? Nobody was there. I hung out for awhile but nobody showed up. I guess everyone took the holiday off.”

“How about the graveyard? Sometimes they are there.”

“I stopped by there too. Nobody. It’s just dead (no pun intended) quiet today.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, thanks. I guess it’s time to give it up.”

“Finally!”

Thwack…Thwack…Thwack….