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Stories from the small town of Whisper Gap where one life, one tale invariably reaches out to touch the next. by Jo Janoski.
"No Christmas tip!" she murmured. Ah, there it was, in a puddle by the gate. At least the imbecile had put it in the required plastic sheath. But had he tossed another package too? A smaller plastic bag lay next to the Whisper Gap Gazette. She scampered out in the pouring rain, gathered both up and took them inside. Dabbing the smaller one with the hem of her pink terry robe, her heart raced. Claudia spied a camera through the foggy plastic. A tiny one...digital, shiny new. Unzipping the bag, she slipped it out. That lady loved a good mystery, so with a trembling finger, she turned it over and slid the back open. A woman's face stared back at her. Gleaming dark eyes with electric yellow bolts jumped off the screen, eyes surrounded by a mane of wild gray hair sticking up in angry spikes. A witch. Tiny screams trickled off her lips before Claudia slammed the camera on the table. It was late. She needed to go to work. Later, when she returned, she let the camera sit where it lay. The woman with the glaring eyes...she was evil. The face had never left her. Even while she conducted meetings at work, those eyes, bolting with portent, hovered in her thoughts. They followed her...as surely as if the witch woman herself walked by her side all day. The face hung in mid-air over her shoulder, a glaring gargoyle. Who had thrown that camera over the fence, and why? The eyes! Like lightning bolts across the sky! A cackle! Had she just heard a witch's cackle? Claudia was in a state. Poised over the camera, she was about to grab it and smash it into pieces when a knock at the door stopped her. A little man stood outside. Decked out in a suit and tie, a derby perched on his head. A tiny mustache danced above the fellow's upper lip. "Excuse me. I lost a camera in a plastic bag on this street. I was wondering if you'd seen it." "Have I seen it? Have I seen it? Yes. I've seen it." Claudia marched over, grabbed the camera and tossed it to the little man. "Get it out of my sight!" He caught the camera as it flew overhead. "Ah, still in good condition," he murmured. The little fellow shot Claudia a smile. "Would you mind if I take your picture?" "I guess. Just so long as you take that damned camera and go!" "Very well, then. Smile, please." The little man snapped Claudia and with a nervous twitch of a smile made his exit. Once on the street, he tugged a fresh plastic bag out of his pocket. Before plunking in the camera, he slid the back open. Claudia's face stared back, her eyes like electric bolts, a haunting face. A witch's face. He chuckled. Checking his watch, the little man murmured, "I think I'll go over to the West End and toss it over a fence there. See what kind of reaction it gets. What a great hobby! So much better than stamp collecting. Human nature is so interesting."
Copyright 2008 JO Janoski
Jo Janoski is a poet, author, and photographer from Pittsburgh, PA. For more from Jo visit her columns: February, January, December, November, October; and her poetry: February, January, December, November, and October. Or her online home. |
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