"Hey, sweetheart, I don't want you playing at Michael's house anymore."
He didn't answer me. When I turned to look at him, he nodded and opened his mouth. Steam poured out from the gaping hole as he nodded at me.
"MM."
A shiver ran up my spine. He's been doing a lot of that lately, not talking. Instead of words, he's been using a lot of fillers. Until a month ago, he was talking and laughing. Now, he's barely expressive. He was friends with two of the kids who were killed recently. I wonder if their deaths are bothering him.
"I want you back in the house as soon as school is over. I don't want you to get caught up in whatever is happening around here."
"MM"
Honestly, I didn't want him playing with the other children at all. I knew the rumours the other mothers were spreading. I've seen the way they all look at Benji. No doubt they've also been telling their children to stay away from him.
I don't care what they say. We couldn't have children, then we woke up one morning to find Benji. I don't care that he has a pumpkin for a head. He's my son. I know they think he's the murderer. Stupid. Just because the dead children were found with pumpkins on their heads doesn't mean it was Benji.
I looked at him as he finished the last of his breakfast. Why kill them and put pumpkins on their heads? No. It had to be someone else. Although on the days those kids went missing, Benji came home late with his clothes muddy. No, no, what am I thinking. There's no way Benji could do something like that, and I not know. I'm his mother; I know him best.
-
I went shopping that evening; I wasn't the only mother who did. I ran into Olivia and Mary-Ellen. Mary-Ellen is Michael's mother. Olivia is Tommy's mother; he stopped playing with Benji after the first kid died. The boy almost seemed to run away whenever he saw Benji. Probably crap put in his head by his mother. They pretended to make civil conversation, asking how Benji was.
"Still alive. As a mother, that's what I'm most grateful for."
I pushed past them quickly, not wanting to linger in the act of pretending to be friendly. Now my shopping took me around the aisle. As I stood trying to decide on a jello flavor, I overheard them talking.
"I'm telling you her kid is the one behind the murders. A normal person, no matter how messed up, would never do something sick like that."
"I agree. They're crazy, raising a pumpkin-headed monster. How do you suppose he lures the children?"
I'd heard enough; I grabbed a pack of jello and cashed out. Had I stayed longer, I would have beaten the crap out of them. But we don't need anymore reasons for people to point fingers at us. Roger's already having a hard time at work.
When I got home, Benji wasn't there. It was almost 4pm. I told him not to stay out. Just as I rushed out the door, Benji was coming down the path towards the house. His shoes missing, his coat torn and he was a muddy, bloody mess.
I ushered him into the bathroom and cleaned him up checking for injuries. But there were none. He was covered in blood, but he wasn't injured.
"Benji, who's blood is this?"
He looked at me for a while before his mouth opened. The steam was thicker than this morning's and the glow of his eyes had a ghastly green hue.
"Tommy's"
I went cold. Every day he was late and messy; a child was missing only to turn up dead a few days later. Oliva and the other mothers already believe he's behind the murders. If Tommy does turn up dead this time...
I shook my head, trying to dislodge the thought. It wasn't Benji. It's just a series of coincidences. Benji isn't a murderer.
-
The next day, I caught sight of Michael and some other kids stoning Benji as he ran towards the house. They were yelling insults and accusing him of killing Tommy and the other children. I made his favourite sandwich and milkshake as a snack, then rocked him to sleep. When I was sure he'd fallen asleep, I went out into the garden.
I needed to do something with my hands, to take my mind of things. As I worked through the pumpkins, I realised another groundhog had made its way into the garden. I saw the little bastard nibbling away happily.
I approached quickly and quietly. But he saw me just a few feet away and darted for his hole. I lunged after him, just barely grabbing him by the hind leg. I didn't hesitate to put the knife in his neck. He squirmed and screamed for a bit before he stopped. When he stopped moving, I had such clarity about life that I finally relaxed. I picked a small pumpkin, cleaned out the guts, then put it on the groundhog's head and dropped it back into its hole.
As I worked through the garden, filling the holes, I noticed a movement in the corner of my eye. I turned sharply to be greeted by a pair of green-glowing eyes.
"Benjamin!... You're up."
I looked him over; he was muddy and covered in blood again. His mouth opened, thick fog poured out, down to the ground. A shiver ran up my spine again.
"Why did you kill Michael and my other friends, mommy?"
"They were a threat to you, sweetheart. You're my treasure, I have to protect you."
ns 15.158.61.54da2
