I kept seeing her stare at me the whole night. She was beautiful, but she wouldn’t smile. So I didn’t talk to her. She creeped me out a little bit, but how dangerous could a tiny brunette girl, sipping on a cocktail be? So I just ordered more liquor and carried on with his friends.
Monday morning I kept seeing her everywhere. Outside my bedroom window, in the rear view mirror on my way to work, cleaning in my office building. But she kept disappearing, so I thought I was going crazy. Lunch break came around and as soon as I got to my car, she came out of nowhere and stuck my arm with a needle. I was suddenly unable to speak or move. She took my keys and shoved me into the passenger’s side of my own car. I don’t know how long we were driving or how many turns we took, but we ended up in the middle of nowhere. There was no car, person, or even a tree for miles.
“There’s something about being outside in the afternoon in the burning heat that puts me at ease. I love the way the sun feels on my skin.”
I could feel myself starting to regain some control over myself. I could talk again, but I still couldn’t move. “What do you want? Why did you bring me here?”
She caresses my face. “You have kind eyes.”
“No one’s ever told me that. I’m not really a kind person.”
“No, but your eyes are kind. Are you feeling better?”
“Yes. Are you going to let me go back to work now?”
She stared at me again, with a blank expression, then the blank expression twisted. This wild smile replaced it as she ran at me, crammed freshly manicured nails into my eyeballs. When I screamed for my life, she sang to me, “There’s a hole in my bucket dear Liza, dear Liza. There’s a hole in my bucket dear Liza a hole.” She left me there, alone and in agony. No one found me for two days. Eventually, I stopped screaming.
“Where did you go, Alvah? You didn’t meet me for lunch today.”
“I met someone, with kind eyes and I sang to him.”
“No Alvah!” He ran to check her room and found a new pair of green eyeballs in a jar still attached to their rectus’s. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and, “10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1.” One more deep breath.
“Did anyone see you?”
“They never do.”
“And the evidence is gone?”
“All except a man with no eyes, who can probably describe you perfectly.”
“There are lots of brunette’s with brown eyes out there.”
“Why do you keep doing this?”
“He had kind eyes.”
I was shaking now. She was doing so good. She hadn’t attacked anyone in weeks. I thought she was over her morbid outbursts. It was time I spoke the truth. I know I should have turned her in when she had her first violent outbreak. But I couldn’t. She is my sister and I’ve been all she’s had since she was eleven and we finally ran away from dad. “No, he had green eyes, like dad.”
Through clenched teeth, she says, “We have no dad.”
“Yes, we do. He is the tall man with green eyes that we met when you were ten. He is the man who hit you and burned you with cigarettes.”
She grabs a jar of eyeballs and chunks it at him. “He was not our dad!!!” She keeps throwing them. I have pushed her too far. Covered in broken glass and blood that I wasn’t sure was mine, I sobbed. She stopped, sinks beside me, caresses my face and sings, “There’s a hole in my bucket dear Liza, dear Liza. There’s a hole in my bucket, dear Liza a hole.”
“Why do you sing that song when I cry?”
Looking at her, I knew she was diving into a memory that I was not a part of. She smiled.
That crazy child was at it again. The only one-year-old at the daycare that literally tries to gouge kids eyes out? She goes up to the youngest and leaves these red welts on her dark skin right by her eyes. The daycare worker is changing a diaper can’t leave a kid on the changing table. “Alvah! Use soft touch.” She says.
“Soooooft.” She says slowly touching the screaming child’s arm. “Freakin sociopath.” She mutters under my breath.
The caregiver gets done, picks up the terrified child and sings. “There’s a hole in my bucket dear Liza, dear Liza. There’s a hole in my bucket dear Liza a hole….”
“Do you know the rest of the song?”
Then mend it dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry. Then mend it, dear Henry, dear Henry then mend.
She jumped up and started cleaning up the eyes and putting them sloppily in bags. “What are you doing?”
“I have to mend them!” She was crying now.
“She was headed outside with them. “No! Alvah! You’re going to get caught!!!”
“I have to mend them!”
I tackled her, but she had already opened the door, the contents of her bag went flying. I was still fighting with her when the cops showed up.
“Dr. Phillips?” I knew this cop.
“I just- I had to protect my sister. I’m all she has.” I cried submitting to the cuffs and the angry look.
Next to me, my sister is screaming and violently crying “I have to mend them!! I have to mend them!!!”
All I could do was whisper, “It’ll be okay Alvah. It’ll be okay.”