Saturday, January 23, 2021

Horrible Little Nanny


 By Harlowe Pilgrim


“I love you, little Nanny.”

“I love you, little man.” 

“May we visit the park today, Nanny?”

“Of course we may.  Unless you’d rather visit the zoo.”

He thought on it a second. “Did we visit the zoo yesterday?”

“The day before yesterday, my little man.  Yesterday we went to the library.”

“Ahhh yes … the library … was lots of fun.”

“We could go to the library again if you like.”

“No.  The park I think.  Will we play some games?  Can you think of some games?”

“I can think of some games, but you can think of some games too.  You’re wonderful at games.”

“It’s true I am.” He clapped his hands. “I will think of some games.  But you think of some games too, little Nanny.  You’re wonderful at games too.”

 

“So much fun at the park.” He held her hand tightly. “May we catch fireflies?”

“Not today, I’m afraid.  You can only spot fireflies at night, when they’re lit up.  On a bright sunny day like today, we will not see any.”

“Oh.  Then maybe we can come back at night?”

“Maybe sometime.”

“When you don’t have a date?”

She smiled at him. “Probably when I don’t have a date. Or maybe you will be my date.”

“I will be your date?  That sounds like a good game.”

“You like that?” She smiled at him.

“I like that.  I love you, little Nanny.”

“I love you, little man.”

 

“The fireflies die.” He looked grumpy.

“What’s that?”

“The fireflies die.  Don’t they.” He’d obviously been thinking on fireflies and their plight.

“Their lights go out eventually, yes.” She moved her jaw thoughtfully. “Same as with all of us, eventually.”

“Even you and me?”

“Eventually.  Not for a long time though.”

“NO!  That’s horrible, little Nanny!  I don’t want our lights to go out!”

“I’m sorry I’ve upset you,” she began to stroke his back. “But there’s really nothing to be upset about.  That’s just part of life I’m afraid.  And not for a long, very long time.”

“Not for a long time?  When we’re old?”

“Exactly.”

“Very old?”

“Exactly.  Very, very old.”

“Okay.” He seemed satisfied. “We will still kill the fireflies?”

“We can catch some and have fun and learn from them.”

“They will be dead after.”

“Eventually, sadly.  But that’s not the point of catching them.  Understand?”

“Their lights will go out,” he said. “I understand.”

 

She sat working on her face in front of the mirror.

“Date night tonight, little Nanny?”

“Yes little man, I have a date tonight.  I sure do.”

“What about fireflies?”

“What about them?”

“I thought we were going to catch some.”

She watched him in the mirror, sensing his play for her attention. “We are going to, but some other time, okay?”

“At night,” he said.

“Yes, at night.”

“It’s night right now, Nanny.”

She clicked closed this little case and clicked open that. “We’ll have to do it some other night.”

“Because it’s date night tonight.”

“Because it’s date night tonight, exactly, my little man.  You understand that I have plans, don’t you.”

“Date night, date night,” he groused. “I hate date night.  I hate date night little Nanny.”


On a typical day he would wake and find his Nanny in the kitchen and together they would eat breakfast.  This morning the kitchen sat empty and he found Nanny in her robe on her bed, catching a few extra winks.

“Good morning, little man.”

“Good morning.  Little Nanny back from her date?”

“Yes I’m back from my date.”

“Was it a fun date, Nanny?”

“Oh, it was fun.  It was …” She lost her train of thought amidst the recollection.

His put-off stare brought her back and made her blush.

“Out late again,” he said.

“Yes.  Out late again.” She grinned. “Am I being grilled?  We got you a present.”

A smile came to his face and she was glad to see it.

“A present?  A present for me?”

“Yes it’s for you.  Would you like to see what it is?”

“Yes I would, Nanny.  I’d love to see my present.”  He clapped his hands.

She reached off the side of the bed into a shopping bag on the floor.

In doing so her robe shifted and the collar slid down exposing a red mark on her neck.

His eyes caught it and he frowned.

After pawing about the bag she came up with a jar and held it out to him as a trophy.

“See?  Just like you wanted.  Fireflies.  See them in there?”

“You got fireflies with the date?”

“Yes, we got them together.  For you.”

“I wanted to get them together,” he growled.  With you.”

“I thought you would like it.  It’s especially for you.”

Evil on his young face, he muttered. “Horrible little Nanny.  Horrible little Nanny.”

Continuously as he stalked from her room, drumming into her as he always was in earshot.

 

“You seem like you’re feeling better, little man.”

“I am feeling better, thank you.”

She smiled. “Your favorite lunch having something to do with it?”

“Cheese sandwich is my favorite.  Little Nanny knows.”

“And here’s some milk to wash it down.” She set the plastic cup on the table in front of him with his sandwich.

“Ooh … nice and cold.”

“That’s the way you like it.”

“That’s the way I like it.  Nanny knows what I like.”

“Yes she does.”

The doorbell rang.

She perked-up.

He looked at her, glowing there. “Who is that, Nanny?”

“It’s for me, little man.”

“A package?”

“Of sorts.”

She left him in the kitchen with his cheese sandwich and milk, dancing through the home to the door as if flying by fairy wings.

Peeking through the peephole first, then hurriedly opening the door.

“Hello,” She breathed through her beaming smile. “Come in.  I’ll introduce you to my little man.”

He grinned. “I didn’t notice you having one of those.”

He caught her and pulled her close at the same time she was falling into his arms.

They both felt the electrical charge, for a moment they were magnetized as one.

 

The attraction was disrupted by the chaos of shattering glass.

In the kitchen.

She bolted in that direction, not more than several running strides to get there.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes Nanny.  I am okay.”

The smashed remnants of the firefly jar were scattered on the tile floor.

“But you are not okay.” He grinned. “If you are a firefly.  If you are, you just lost your house.”

“What happened?” Her date had followed, a few steps behind.

“If you are a firefly,” little man said, “you just lost your house.”

“I’d better get this cleaned up before someone gets cut.”

“Do you have a broom?” their guest asked.

“Yes it’s in the broom … closet.” She rolled her eyes at the silliness of her response.

“And appropriately so.” He winked at her and turned to go. “I’ll find it.”

The little man seemed disinterested in much besides his lunch, half-eaten. “You don’t want to get cut.” He sang it under his breath. “You don’t want to get cut.”

“How did this happen?”

“How did this happen, little Nanny?”

“I’m asking you a question.  How did this happen?  The firefly jar smashed?”

“It must have slipped.”

“Slipped?”

“I probably should not have glass jars to play with.”

Her eyes detected a hint of a smirk.  An evil little smirk. “Did it slip on purpose?”

He took a bit of his sandwich, and drank milk from his cup.

Their guest returned with broom inhand. “You were right about this.  In the broom closet, right where it out to be.”

“I had a strong feeling,” she said as he took her into his free side.

“I’m glad to hear that.  I hoped you would.”

“You don’t want to get cut,” the little man said. “Horrible little Nanny.  Hor-rib-le little Nanny.”

 

“Thank God for naptime,” she said. “I love that little man with all my heart but ...”

They were holding each other again.

“All of your heart?” he asked.

“You know what I mean.”

“It takes a lot of energy to do your job.”

“I have a little energy left.” She smirked. “Want to see my bedroom?”

“I thought you’d never ask.  I’ve seen the broom closet, so your bedroom ought to be the next stop on the tour.”

“Is that so?”

“Well, usually.”

“Just a minute.” She disappeared and returned with two bottles of wine and a pair of glasses. “Now I’m ready to show it to you.”

“I can’t wait,” he said. “It’s been hours.”

She led him down the hall and opened a door. “Be my guest,” she waved him in. “We just have to leave it open a crack so we can keep an ear out.”

 

Popping corks and giggling.  Moaning and whimpering.  Bedsprings creaking and squeaking.

The raucous carried down the hall.

“Horrible little Nanny.” The little man stared at the ceiling rather than sleep. “Horrible date.  Horrible little fireflies.  Horrible noise.  Horrible little nap.”

In good time the sounds of passion gave way to the sounds of silence.

He lay there awhile staring at the ceiling.  Little wheels turning.

Then he got up out of bed.

Quietly.

He crept to Nanny’s door, left open a crack.

Nanny and her date were having a nap too.  He was snoring.  So loud.

Little man crept into the kitchen.

Quietly.

Only the opening drawer interrupted the silence.

And then the steel on steel of the longest sharpest blade being drawn.

And the closing of the drawer.

So quietly.

He crept back to Nanny’s room and pushed the door open.

Approaching the bed where they napped, he was careful to step over the empty bottles on the floor and the wine glasses too.

The date continued to snore.

Nanny was closest.  On her back.  Her date was on the other side of her, his face stuffed into a fluffy pillow.

Little man was at the bedside.

Quietly.

Horrible little Nanny.  So horrible.  So horrible.

He raised the blade in one smooth motion and lowered it slicing deeply into Nanny’s soft throat.  She opened her eyes and gurgled a little as the sharp steel cut down to bone.  She continued to look even as blood sprayed from the wound, even as it sprayed in her eyes.  She was still.

Quietly.

Horrible blood.

The date began to snore even louder.

Little man crept over to his side of the bed.

He put the handle of the bloody knife in the snoring man’s hand.  The hand closed around it.

Wonderful blood.  Horrible little Nanny.  Horrible little Nanny.

 

She awoke with a gasp.

Her date was still snoring next to her.

Her hands flew to her neck and then she looked at them.  No blood.  She felt her neck again.  All normal.  She sat up in bed.  No blood.  No blood at all.

A dream?  She sighed.  A horrible dream.

Nanny let herself out of her room gently, quietly.  Her head swam with the remnants of intoxication and the beginning throbs of a killer headache as she peered down the hall. 

 

Not a sign of life besides the man’s snoring from her bedroom.  She smiled. Somebody put him to bed right.  Or he’s just passed out.

 

A drink of water, then she’d like to rejoin him.  She pulled her robe more tightly closed and eased her way toward the kitchen, bare feet padding along the hallway floor.

 

Her spirits lightened with every step she put between herself and the horrible dream. 

 

The notion of reawakening some passion had even entered her fancy as she reached kitchen, nibbling lightly on her bottom lip.

 

She slipped in just as her little man was drawing the longest sharpest blade from the silverware drawer. “Nanny.”  His voice was sweet but his eyes burned with something else. 

 

She watched stupefied as he placed the blade back in the drawer and climbed down from the chair he was standing on.  He pushed the chair back to the kitchen table it had come from.

 

They watched each other a moment.  She felt goosebumps and a terrible shiver. 

 

He yawned. “Back to bed.” He turned and started to go. “Back to bed, Nanny.”

 

She had not words.

 

She heard him in the hallway. “Back to bed.  Sweet dreams, Horrible Nanny.  Horrible little Nanny.”


###

Copyright 2021 Cock and Bull Publishing, LLC

Harlowe Pilgrim’s books are available at Amazon, iBooks,  Smashwords.com, Books-A-Million, and most other online booksellers.



Saturday, January 19, 2019

Trump Steals Old Imus Bit


by Harlowe Pilgrim, for The Shit Creek Times ("All the shit that's fit to print")

Washington DC

New allegations have come to light in Donald Trump’s latest caper, Hamburger-gate.



Sources say their sources are asking whether the President’s idea to serve fast food to the 2018 national champion Clemson Tigers upon their celebratory visit to the White House just might have been inspired – nay stolen - from the old Don Imus comedy bit entitled “1200 Hamburgers to Go”.

The Imus piece (that’s “1200 Hamburgers” … not Mrs. Imus) features the aforementioned retired radio-cowboy playing a sergeant in the Air National Guard on the telephone attempting to place an order for 1200 hamburgers to feed his troops.

The Trump piece features the president playing the Commander in Chief in otherwise essentially the same role.

Link to the Imus bit: Imus "1200 Hamburgers to Go"



Could it be coincidence?

What’s more, Trump and Imus were acquainted, back before Imus quit drinking and before Trump quit not being leader of the free world.

You be the judge.

Some have asked if this revelation might also shed light on the circumstances leading to House Majority Leader Pelosi recently being denied a government plane for her scheduled trip to Afghanistan.

But our investigation shows that was apparently done simply as a favor to Afghanistan.  As a Trump staffer was heard saying, “Haven’t those poor people suffered enough?”


Meanwhile Democrats are suggesting an investigation may be warranted to get to the bottom of any potential Imus involvement.


###

Copyright 2019 Cock and Bull Publishing, LLC

Harlowe Pilgrim’s books are available at Amazon, iBooks,
Smashwords.com, Books-A-Million, and most other online booksellers.


Tuesday, July 4, 2017

Fishin' Hole


One time, I was lost in the middle of nowhere looking for a pond where I heard the fish were so catchy, they’d all but jump in your boat.

I knew I was close, so I stopped at this little rundown store to ask for directions.

The girl at the counter looked bored.

“Beg your pardon,” I said, “but I’m looking for the fishin’ hole.”

“The fishin’ hole?” The girl was flustered. “Listen, I don’t know what you’ve heard, mister … but that was one fish … one time … and I was drunk as a skunk.”

Let me tell you, I wasn’t expecting that.  When I asked if she’d just point me in the right direction, she told me it’s right where I think it is and she wasn’t about to show me.

I tipped my hat and was on my way.  Tickled, but not the way I was looking to be.  Which was by a fish, nibbling on my worm.

Charming as I found the countryside to be, my rambling exploration of it (some folks … women folks mostly … call it being lost) seemed not to be bringing me any closer to catching anything but maybe hell for being such a dupe.  What if my hole was just another slippery ole fish story?

I confess to my conviction wavering a bit. 

Another rundown store approached so I decided to stop and inquire, figuring I had even less to lose than the little tart at the store I asked at before.

The boy at the counter looked bored.

“Beg your pardon,” I said, “but I’m looking for the fishin’ hole.”

“The fishin’ hole?” The boy was flustered. “Listen, I don’t know what you’ve heard, mister … but that was one fish … one time … and I was drunk as a skunk.”

I didn’t ask him to point me the way.


Never did find that fucking pond.

###

-Harlowe Pilgrim


Copyright 2017 Cock and Bull Publishing, LLC

Harlowe Pilgrim’s books are available at Amazon, iBooks,
Smashwords.com, Books-A-Million, and most other online booksellers.


Saturday, March 4, 2017

Leprechaun Honeypot


“Show me your honeypot, and I’ll show you me pot of gold.”

“Sure you only want to see my honeypot?”

“Do YOU only want to SEE me pot of gold?

“Hmmm,” she played with her hair. “Aren’t you kind of tall for a Leprechaun?”

“Aye, an I ain’t that Irish, neither.”





Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!

Enjoy the crawl home!




###

-Harlowe Pilgrim


Copyright 2017 Cock and Bull Publishing, LLC

Harlowe Pilgrim’s books are available at Amazon, iBooks,
Smashwords.com, Books-A-Million, and most other online booksellers.


Sunday, December 4, 2016

The Tightest Seal in Alaska



by Harlowe Pilgrim, for The Shit Creek Times ("All the shit that's fit to print")





Yaktattoo, Alaska – Say goodbye to “The Tightest Seal in Alaska.”






Not that a satisfying seal can’t still be had.  But the local company who advertised it now finds itself belly-up.

And not in a satisfying way.

Ironic that the future for Wet Willy Weather Stripping … sucks.

It was only months ago, they began using that slogan and the initial response was promising.

“We got a lot of calls,” an ex-employee told us. “The Tightest Seal in Alaska.  The old gal at the front desk could hardly keep up.”

But there was some sand in the lubricant.  In other words, a problem.

“None of the people were calling about weather stripping.  They thought, by ‘tight seal’ … we were talking about animals!  Seals, the marine mammals!  Feeling tight around their—never mind.  Sick fucks.”

The company did attempt to clarify the advertising campaign.

“That’s right, we really did.  And I just wanted to make sure all the readers out there (see, I know there might be children reading) understand that what I said about sick fucks before, the sick fucks I was talking about was them wanna-be seal-fuckers.  Not the animals.  Them seals are fairly innocent in the whole thing as far as I’m concerned.  That’s probably why they’re so tight.”

But it was difficult to convince the customers.

“Difficult to say the least.  We’d get the customers on the phone, and tellem’ we didn’t have any seals to put their penis in.  Or for that matter, slide around on their lady parts, if they hadem’. ‘We only sell weather stripping,’ we’d say.  We’d even spell it out sometimes.  W-e-a-t-h-e-r stripping.”

And how did the customers respond?

“Not very well.  One guy was like, ‘Weather stripping?  You mean, like taking your clothes off outside in the weather?  Shit!  Sign me up!’”

Nobody was interested in actual weather stripping?

“They weren’t interested in the kind we had to sell.  We were kind of out of luck, seeing as we didn’t have anything that was screwable, other than that old girl at the reception desk.  I guess she got some business out of it, but nothing that really helped the company any.”

You mean …?

“She weren’t really a tight seal either, if you know what I mean.  We’d already seen to that, if you know what I―”

We get it, sir.

“Oh, well good.  And you see, that was when they threatened to sue us out of business.”

Based on what?

“Based on, the company claimed to have ‘The tightest seal in Alaska.’  And we had no seals.  And the truth is, you could hardly even tell you were inside that old gal, that’s how un-tight her seal was.”

And the business closed its doors.

“Yep.  Belly-up.  Like the gal on the front desk.  Sometimes.”

The business owners were not available for comment.

###

Copyright 2016 Cock and Bull Publishing, LLC

Harlowe Pilgrim’s books are available at Amazon, iBooks,
Smashwords.com, Books-A-Million, and most other online booksellers.


Saturday, November 12, 2016

Becoming


Ladies and gentlemen (yeah right you are), we present for your consideration the ebook

"Harlowe Pilgrim's Oh My Words! 2015"

An album of Harlowe Pilgrim’s short works published in 2015 and featured on Harlowe Pilgrim’s Cock and Bull Blog.

The material included herein is intended for Adult Readers Only.



Features:

The Ghost Ship Lollipop”
You’re wanted on deck.

The Cat Who Burgled Me”
A sexy, funny little thing ...

Woman Visited by Man with Giant Cock”
A satiric report of an oversized animal.

The Mortician’s For Dinner”
All invitations are not created equal.


And more!


Warning: It is said, that which you gaze upon you will become. So don’t be gazing, if you don’t want to becoming.


"Harlowe Pilgrim's Oh My Words! 2015" at Amazon.com


Harlowe Pilgrim's books are available at AmazoniBooks
Smashwords.comBooks-A-Million, and most other online booksellers.


Follow on Twitter @ https://twitter.com/HarlowePilgrim

Saturday, October 22, 2016

Shadow Box





"Shadow Box" by Harlowe Pilgrim


The air rushed through their hair as the car sped down the road.

“You better watch it … one more ticket and you’ll lose your license.”

“No, I’m good.”

“You’re good?”

“I fixed that other ticket.”

“What? How did you …”

“I brought a pizza down to the police station. That and a …” She put her fist up to her cheek and pushed her tongue into her other cheek. Then she smiled. “No more ticket.”

“Are you … seriously?”

Her friend smirked. “What do you think?”

She didn’t answer.

“Tastes like bacon.”

The car sped on.


“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, girlfriend. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay, sounds good. Let me know if you need help with that Algebra.”

“I will. Don’t study too hard.”

“I won’t.”

“You lying slut.” Her friend grinned. “Later.”

“Later.”

The car’s tires chirped as it started back out of the driveway.

She waved to her friend, turned and trudged up the walk with her heavy backpack and let herself in.


Home lately was not the same. The warmth was gone … and it was giving her chills.

Not the family or anything like that.

Just something about home, the house, the atmosphere wasn’t feeling quite right.

A certain …

He was there.

She didn’t see him, but she could have. Dared she look.

When she closed the door behind her.

When she set down her bookbag and rummaged through the refrigerator.

He was there.

When she changed in her room.

When she sat down with her homework.

He was there. He saw everything, and she felt him but didn’t know him.

He was that something that didn’t feel right, that something that haunted her.

Instinct knew being stalked.

And it expressed itself as a sense of unease.

Unease when she closed the door behind her, and rummaging through the refrigerator.

Unease when she changed in her room and sat down with her homework.

Unease. Terror by another word.

Violated. The feeling of terror at the hand of darkness.


Put it out of your mind. You’re driving yourself crazy.”

Rational thoughts pulling late night covers up high to hide.

And your’re keeping yourself awake. You can’t stand to lose a second of beauty sleep.”


From the darkest corner of her room, he watched as he forlong had.

He, blacker than the night.

His form, of lines or scrawls or scratches of black, not solid an object but a mass.

Contrasting not against the shadow … he was the shadow.


His words slipped into her consciousness like a molester’s unwelcome touch.

She pulled the covers tighter, retreating further into their shelter.

There is NO ONE there. Gracie, you heard NOTHING. Go to sleep.”


And somehow she did get to sleep, despite the darkness approached and leaned over her bed, looking well after her.


2

“Dad went into work early again?”

“Yeah.”

Mom looked like she’d tried to screw her head into her pillow all night.

“I like your hairdo,” Gracie told her with a smirk.

“This little thing?” Her mom smiled and held her head. “I call it the hair tornado. You like?”

“Ooh la la! Very much, madame.”

“Well, thank you. I put a lot of work into it.” She turned somber.

“Still not sleeping, mom?”

“Not very well.”

“The pills aren’t helping?”

“Not much, honey.” She read her daughter’s face. “But it’s nothing you should worry about. I’m sure it’s just a phase.”

“Hey, I’m the kid. I thought it was kids who go through phases.”

“Well what do you think adults are, silly? Just old kids, you know.”

They laughed.

“How’s things,” mom said after, “with school and everything?”

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“But I don’t like it when dad is gone so much.”

“Me either,” mom said sadly all of a sudden. “You have no idea, Gracie.”


At home, the day was a long lifeless wait.

But everything comes to an end.


The convertible screeched to a stop in the driveway.

“I think you deserve a lot of credit.”

The girls dragged their bookbags from the car to the house.

“For failing the Algebra test? Thanks. The last thing I expected was praise for that, but praise me if you must.”

Gracie fumbled for the key. “I mean getting some help. Anybody can fail at something the first time. It’s the winners who dig down and turn a failure into a success.”

“Inspirational.”

The door sprang open.

“My dad says that all the time.”

Gracie led the way inside.

“You believe that crap?”

“It depends.”

“It depends?”

“Yeah, he says that all the time too. ‘It depends.’”

“That one, I could go along with. Is that a new chair?”

“We got it a couple weeks ago, mom picked it up at a flea market. Dad says it probably has fleas. Has it been that long since you’ve been over?”

“I guess so. Seems I’ve been spending all my time out raising Hell … while some people been wasting their youth here, studying.”

“Sounds about right. Which brings us to your current predicament.”

“Sounds about right. It is a predicament.”


Even in the company of her friend … she felt him.

When she closed the door behind them.

When they set down their bookbags and rummaging through the refrigerator.

He was there.

When they changed in her room.

When they sat down with to study.

Unease … terror by another word.


“Jenna! Jenna!”

“What is it, Gracie?”

“The bathroom door is stuck! Come help me, give it a push!”

Jenna started for her friend.

Then another voice stopped her.

“Who’s … there?” “Because I wanna know.” “I’m NOT taking off my …” “I’m not taking off ANYTHING. Seriously, who’s there?”

“Jenna!” Gracie called from the bathroom.

“Who’s there?” Jenna demanded of other, mysterious voice.


Gracie’s sudden appearance startled her.

“Why didn’t you help me?” demanded Gracie.

“I was on my way, then …”

“Well I got myself out.”

“I can see that, congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“Gracie … there’s nobody else here, right?”

“Here in the house? Of course not.” Then she hesitated to ask. “Why?”

Jenna shuddered. “Mmm … no reason.”

But Gracie felt the reason. She, the girl who hid in her covers all night.

From the darkest corner, he watched as he forlong had.

The bathroom door had never stuck before.


3

Safety in numbers? She doubted it.

“Gracie, aren’t you hungry? You like this.”

“I know, mom … I do like it. I guess I’m just feeling … kind of weird.”

“Oh, sick to your stomach? That’s too bad, honey.”

“Not sick to my stomach … just not myself.”

“Okay, I’ve got you now. What about you, Jenner?”

“Mom, her name’s Jenn-A … not Jenn-ER.”

“I know, I’m just trying to liven up the spirit in this room.”

The lights went out.

“Um …” Jenna said. “That was―”

“Creepy,” Gracie said.

Gracie’s mom went for the light switch.

The lights popped back on.

“There,” she said. “Switched off was all it was.”

“How did that happen, mom?”

“Yeah,” Jenna chimed in, “mom.”

“I don’t know … maybe the switch wasn’t switched the whole way, and it popped back …”

“Does that really happen mom?”

“I don’t know … something happened.”

Jenna turned to Gracie. “You said it. Creepy.”

Gracie shuddered, wanting for the sanctuary of her bed covers.

Silence was broken by the grandfather clock on the wall beginning to strike.

They snapped up like sprung mousetraps.

And then stared at each other a second. Before laughing.

The tension had broken itself.

“You guys,” mom said after the clock finished chiming. “I think you’re wound a little tight tonight.”

“WE are?” Gracie giggled. “You jumped higher than we did.”

“Please …” her mom smirked. “I did no such thing.”

“Mrs. B,” Jenna chided her, “I think you did.”

“Oh, so that’s how it is. Two against one.”

“But … it’s gonna be one against one.” Jenna pointed at the clock. “I should get headed.”

“Already?” Gracie said. “Sure you don’t want to stay over?”

“As if. Ever since I failed that test … my parents have been all over me about curfew … especially on a school night. Not like I don’t deserve it …”

“Yeah, you could have studied harder before.”

“I could have tried harder to keep them from finding out about the grade, too.”

“How could you have done that?” mom said.

“You don’t want to know, mom.” Gracie’s expression warned Jenna.

“It’s like fixing a speeding ticket.” Jenna said as Gracie squirmed. “You have to play on their, um … sympathy.”

She winked at her friend.


On through the evening … she felt him.

When her dad came home. When her parents kissed her goodnight and went to bed.

He was there.

When she fell asleep on the couch in front of the TV.


Gracie’s eyes popped open.

An old sitcom was playing out on the screen.

She had goosebumps like someone had breathed on her neck, although she was virgin to the sensation.

The tingling touched everywhere.

She sat up.

“How late is it?” She consulted the grandfather clock. “Oh … that late.” She rubbed her face. “Time for bed.”

She noticed the door that led into the garage was open.

“That’s funny. Why’s that open?”

She got up meaning to close it, but hesitated.

The door closed. On its own.

If she had goosebumps before, they doubled in number, the chills up and down her spine were electric.

She wanted to run for covers. But remained frozen, eyes fixed upon that door.

It swung open again. Then closed.

Then it swung open again. From the unhinged side, unbelievably. Then closed again.

Her mind had gone foggy, swimming in fear and mystery.

When the door opened again, there was a figure in the opening.

Naked and swaying wantonly, the woman kneaded her breasts and tweaked their peaks.

It was shocking to see her mother that way.

She twirled her hair her fingers … looked hotly back behind her … and the door closed.

And it stayed closed. Only the goosebumps remained.


Brushing her teeth … goosebumps remained.

Slipping under the covers … goosebumps remained.

He was there.

He was the goosebumps.

And he was feeling talkative.

“Do I WANT you?” she replied from deep under covers. “Who ARE you?” “You just want to be my friend?” “And WHAT me? That’s disgusting.” “Was that really my mother, or just some sick …” “You know, if my father finds out … if he knew you were in here ...” “No, I don’t want you to go wake him up. You leave him alone too.” “No, you may not come in with me … you stay away.” “We’re not making friends, we’re never going to.” “WELL BELIEVE IT.”

How she ever got to sleep she’ll never know.

Not with the form of lines, or scrawls or scratches of black hovering over her bed all night.

Lusting for her candy … nibbling around her edges.



4

Morning.”

Mom was up early.

“Sleep well honey?”

And mom was smiling. And chipper.

“Not great …” Gracie said.

Mom smiled and stretched her arms up overhead.

She was standing in the doorway, open to the garage.

Like the woman her likeness stood nude last night.

At least she wasn’t acting as horny.

At least she had her clothes on.

“I got it so good last night,” her mom said. “Sleep, I mean. I slept like a log.”

“Great, mom.” “Too much information,” she thought, “but great.”

“Me too,” Dad said. Surprisingly, from the kitchen. “I only have an afternoon meeting today … so I thought I’d sleep in and make you guys breakfast.”

“Thanks Dad, but I have to leave for school soon.”

“I’ll cook it fast,” he said. “Just promise to eat it fast, okay?”

“Okay.”


“Wow,” Jenna said, “your dad’s car is in the driveway. Is he home sick?”

“No. He never stays home sick.”

“Then what’s up?”

“He stayed late to make us breakfast.”

“Oh, you mean your mom earned breakfast last night.”

“Ew … you mean … ew.”

Jenna pulled the convertible onto the road, and waved at Gracie’s house. “And I bet she’s already earning herself dessert right now.”

“Ew, Jenna. Can we talk about something else?”

“Okay. You know what I heard?”

“I don’t know,” Gracie smirked. “But when you giggle like that, I know it’s gonna be dirty.”

“It’s not. Okay, maybe just a little.”

“So, out with it.”

“You know Corey in Algebra?”

“Yeah.”

“Not bad looking, right?”

“Not bad.”

“He was hoping I could get him a study date with you.”

“A study date?”

“Yeah, he’s stupid for algebra just like me.”

“So it would be the three of us?”

“Just the three of us … and his stud friend Trent.”

“Trent? Isn’t he the guy you were telling me is supposed to be hung like a―”

“Well, I’m told he can lift heavy objects with it.”

“Oh yeah? How heavy?”

“As heavy as me, anyway. That’s all I care about.”

“I’m beginning to think that.”

“So tonight will be fine?”

“I don’t know … my parents are going out.”

“Perfect. It’s a date, I’ll tell the boys.”


5

Two cars wheeled into the driveway, the convertible in front.

“Do you think you can stall them? I left clothes all over my floor.”

“Silly. Having boys over to an empty house, your clothes are supposed to end up on the floor.”

“Jenna, you don’t think they expect that, do you? I’m not that kind of―”

“Relax, nobody expects anything. Of course they’re boys, so they’re always looking to get in our pants.”

“So what do we do?”

“We lead them on. That’s what keeps them interested.”


“I like your house.”

“Thanks Corey,” Gracie said. “It’s the best one … my parents have.”

Her awkward smile was reassured by his confident one.

“Well good for them.”

“Do you like it?” Jenna asked Trent, who was by then deep in the throes of snacking.

“Yeah,” he said, assuming she was talking about the snack, until the others’ expressions clued him in otherwise. “Oh, the house. Yeah, it’s nice.”

“Thanks,” Gracie said.

“You know what?” Jenna said. “We should play a game.”

“A game?”

“Yeah, we should play hide and seek.”

“Hide and seek, Jenna? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Yeah!” the boys said, their thinking parts quick to spot an opportunity.

“But it’s getting dark, and the guys don’t know the house.”

“I know my way around great in the dark,” Trent said. “I’m like a bat. Kinda.”

Mostly Jenna giggled.

“We’ll be ok,” Corey said. “If … you want to.”

“Of course she wants to. Right Gracie?”

Their hostess looked reluctant.

“Okay Gracie, come on and let’s hide. You guys, make sure you count all the way to a hundred before you come for us. No cheating.”


6

“Are you counting?” Trent said.

“Kind of. We’re probably up to like, fifty or so.”

“Cool. I’m glad you’re counting.”

“If you,” Corey said, “happen to find Gracie …”

Trent grinned wide. “No worries, my man. She’s all yours.”

“Great. I mean, that’s cool.”

“But when I find that minx Jenna … that girl’s gonna be in trouble.”

“I don’t think she’ll mind too much.”

“I don’t think so either,” Trent said. “I hear she’s a beautiful person on the inside.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Hey, where’s that bathroom? I gotta piss before we go find them.”

“That way,” Corey said. “First door on the left.”

“Thanks man. Hey, wait for me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Cool. I’ll piss fast.”


It was hard to even find the closet in the dark. Inside it was dark as a womb.

Jenna sat cross-legged on the floor amongst the rest of the closet’s contents, facing the back wall. She tried not to breath too hard as she anticipated being discovered.

She unbuttoned a few buttons of her blouse to aid in that discovery.

A few minutes passed.

There was a noise close by. Then another. Someone was in the room.

Her heart raced.

The closet door opened behind her. The sound, the airflow, but no light.

Hanging clothes parted, yet she knew not for sure whether she was found. The camouflage of darkness gave her still a chance, and she breathed not a sound to make fullest use of that chance.

Not that she entirely minded being found.

Then hands on her shoulders informed her she was.

Though not a word was spoken.

Hands reached around her, finding the unbuttoned blouse she’d left for them, cupping her first, then taking them out of her brassiere.

“I can unhook that for you,” she whispered, reaching back and totally freeing herself from the garment.

His grip was greedy and rough, but she like it. He seemed to know what to squeeze.

One of his hands began working its way lower … and lower … she could feel herself melting already.

“Oh Trent,” she whispered. “I want this so much … kiss me.”


7

Nice bathroom,” Trent said to himself, looking around as he peed. “I love that dirty water,” he sang to the bowl. “Oh, Boston, you’re my home.”

He finished up and started to put it away. But then, he started thinking about Jenna. Especially, what he planned to do to her when he found her.

His member swelled to an impossible rod.

“Mmm … it’s never going back in my pants now.”

He considered his options.

“I’ll just leave it out.” He shrugged he shoulders. “Everybody will understand.”


The kiss in the dark she’d asked for, she got. And then some.

So deep she almost choked on it. Red hot and ice cold at the same time.

Hot and horny … with goosebumps.

Not right. Not right at all.

“Trent?” she whispered to her closetmate. “That is you …”

“No.”

The hand tickling between her legs was bringing her to climax.

“No?” she squeaked as it came on.

“Shadow Box,” her lover whispered in her ear.



8

You almost done in there?” Corey got up off the couch. “I could have counted to like, a million.”

“Just a sec.” Trent opened the bathroom door, and started to walk out phallus-first, carrying his pants rolled-up in his hand. “You might want to avert your eyes, my man.”

Then just as he reached the threshold, that problem bathroom door … slammed shut.

On him.

“AHHH!” the poor boy called out.

Corey hustled into the hallway, toward the bathroom.

Trent continued to shriek.

“What?” The hall was dark, but his hand found a light switch.

“OH MY GOD!”

The limp end of Trent’s manhood protruded from the shut door like the head of a dead snake.

Trent continued to shriek.

It was taking Corey a moment to process the scene.


Gracie, hearing Trent’s screams had come running.

She met Corey and then …

“OH MY GOD!”

“That’s what I said!”

“Corey, we gotta open that door.”

“We do?”

Trent continued to scream.

“What choice do we have?” she said.

“I don’t know. But …” He pointed at the hurt member.

“It’s not gonna be pretty,” she said. “But we gotta let it out.”

“Let HIM out, you mean.”

“Yeah, well they say where your cock goes, the rest of you will follow.”

“I’ve heard that too.”

“Okay Trent … ready or not … we’re opening the door.”


9

Gracie was first to notice Jenna had rejoined them.

“Jenna! Where the Hell have you been? Didn’t you hear Trent screaming?”

“I … I was … hiding. Why didn’t you come for me?”

“Look at Trent!”

Jenna was blank. “Why didn’t you come for me? Why did you … leave me to …”

“You guys!” Corey said. “I can’t believe I just packed someone’s dick in ice. I mean, I’ve sure never done that before.”

Trent was nearly passed out on the couch, a strange sight, naked from the waist down except for the bags of ice.

“Do you think we should call an ambulance? Or something?”

“NO,” Gracie said. “We can’t let anyone find out somebody hurt their penis at my house.”

“You, a … worried about your reputation there, Gracie?”

“No, but guys aren’t supposed to have their penises out here. I told my parents we would be studying!”

“Yeah … studying penile first aid.” Corey smirked.

Trent groaned.

Jenna sounded shaky. “It comes in handy.”

Corey replied, “It does sometimes.”

“Jenna?” Gracie asked. “Do you have any bright ideas?”

“Yeah, um … I don’t feel so well. I need to go home now.”

“Jenna?”

“Really, I feel awful but … I feel really awful.”


He was there.

When Trent was suffering.

They didn’t see him, but they could have. Dared they look.

When Jenna came from the closet.

He was there.

When Jenna had fled for home, and the other two were dragging Trent to his feet and getting him out.

He was there.

When she pretended nothing was wrong, greeting her parents and going to bed.

He was there. He saw everything, and she felt him.

The haunting was intense.

Instinct knew stalking.

Unease … terror by another word.



10

Why did you do that?” demanded Gracie from beneath her covers.

“Which thing?” He had taken up his watch at her bedside.

“You know which thing.”

“I don’t, but … because they had it coming?”

“WHO has THAT coming?”

“That should be obvious, my Gracie. Who got it?”

“Says you, they had it coming. Who died and made YOU God?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works. That’s not how God got the job.”

“Do you think I’m stupid or something?”

“Not at all, my Gracie.”

“Then why do you play with me?”

“It turns you on?”

“CERTAINLY NOT.”

“Okay, it turns me on.”

“I’m going to sleep.”

“See you there.”


11

“Hi Gracie.”

Mom had watched her get off the bus.

“What happened to your ride?”

Gracie set down her bag and shut the door behind her.

“Jenna wasn’t in school again today.”

“No? Still under the weather? She must have caught something good.”

“I don’t know. I called her and she said she didn’t want to talk about it.”

“Really. Guess something really did got ahold of her.”

“Seems like.”

“Good day today? Besides having to take the bus …”

“Yeah, it was okay. I don’t think I was really into it.”

“No? I hope you’re not getting what Jenna got.”

“Guess we’ll see. How ‘bout you, mom?”

“I’m exhausted. I don’t know why, all I did was lie around all day―”

“Are those scratches on your arms?”

“Oh no, they’re …” Mom quickly rolled down her shirtsleeves. “… they’re nothing. I cleaned all day, so I probably just―”

“I thought you said you lied―”

“I never said ‘I LIED’ young lady.”

Gracie was taken aback by the change in her mother’s demeanor. “You misunderstood, I didn’t mean―”

“I understand perfectly well. Maybe you should go to your room.”

“But … I …”

Mom pointed down the hall. “To your room.”

Dismayed, Gracie started walking.

“Disrespectful,” she heard her mother mutter after her. “Little bitch.”


He was there.

With mother and daughter.

When Gracie went to her room.

He was there.

They could both see him now.


12

After awhile, Gracie’s mom poked her head into the room.“I’m going to run some errands.”

Gracie was seated on her bed, books and papers spread all around. “Okay.”

She didn’t look up from her schoolwork.

“I’m sorry,” mom said, “I was very short with you before. I was out of line. Wasn’t feeling like myself, I guess.”

Gracie shot her mother a cold glance. “Nobody’s themselves. I hope your not getting what Jenna got.”

“Maybe I am.” She coughed once. “You’d better see that you don’t.”


She heard the garage door open, mom’s car drive out, and the door close again behind it.

“It’s all you, isn’t it.”

“It’s all me?” replied the dark figure looming in the corner of her room. “I suppose that depends on what ‘it’ is.”

“IT is Jenna …”

“If one’s playing hide-and-seek, does not one expect to be found?”

“My mother …”

“She’s more like lost and found.”

There was a hint of a chuckle from the faceless form of lines or scrawls or scratches of black.

“How DARE you talk about my mother like that?”

“You brought her up. And don’t be silly. Just because a woman’s a mother … trust me, that doesn’t mean she’s a lady.”

“We’re through with this conversation.” She covered her ears. “Blah blah blah blah.”

“As you wish, my Gracie.” He let it settle a moment. “What would you like to talk about?”


13

The night persisted, long and unsettled. In and out of sleep, one may as well have been the other.

“Hot,” Gracie said throwing off the covers. “Too hot.”

She shuffled down the hallway to the bathroom, and by the nightlight downed a cup of water.

Something made her turn around fast. “Shadow Box!”

She turned on the light.

There was nobody there.

Leaving the bathroom light on, she crept back up the hall.

“Shadow Box?” she whispered. “Shadow Box?”

The fear was present, but also … there was defiance.

Defiance of the fear. Defiance of the haunting.

She expected to find him finally lingering in that corner of her bedroom he’d so made his own.

Yet there was no shadowy form in that shadowy corner.


“If you’re playing hide-and-seek, don’t you expect to be found?”

What drove her to scour the house for the tormentor, she didn’t know.

Were she awake enough to sense the attraction, she would have run away screaming.

But throughout the domicile, she searched.

Until she crept up to that very last door, the one rock she’d not yet looked beneath.

The attic.

She’d hated it always, before she knew. Before she knew what lie in wait.

And now she did. And open up that creepy door and start climbing up those creaky stairs … she did.


“Are you there?”

She couldn’t make out a thing in the blackness.

No answer came.

“Oh, cat’s got your tongue, does it? I know you’re here, Shadow Box.”

She stepped forward.

“If you know I’m here,” replied a voice from the dark, “why do you ask?”

“Okay, I didn’t know. But I thought so.”

“Why are you here? Why pursue me?”

“Don’t you know the answer?” Gracie asked.

“Well yes―”

“If you know the answer,” she interrupted him.

“I don’t believe it. Not until I hear it from you.”

Gracie swallowed hard. “I … know what you want.”

“My Gracie.”

“And I know you’re not going to leave me alone until you get it.”

No response.

She got down on the floor.

Hiked her nightgown up around her waist.

And pulled her panties down over her knees, slipping them off one foot, then the other.

“So here it is!”

She arched her back and thrust her pelvis up at the darkness.

“I’VE GOT YOUR SHADOW BOX!”

No response.

“TAKE IT!”

In an instant he was down, inside, and all around her.

The encounter was not brief.

Nor was it gentle.


14

“Good to see you’re back in school.” The cheerleader snapped her gum.

“Thanks,” Jenna said. “Glad to be back on my feet.”

“Gracie,” the cheerleader said, “you look like Hell. You feelin’ okay?”

“I’ve felt better.”

“So I was just telling somebody about this dumb movie I went to the other night …”

Jenna made a face. “Surprised you noticed it was.”

“Um … what?”

“Nevermind.”

Jenna and Gracie shared a smile.

“And it had a girl, who let this evil spirit screw her … and like, everybody knows, you never have sex with the evil spirit. The evil’s been inside you. That’s the WORST thing you can do.”

Jenna and Gracie shared a frown.

“Everybody knows that,” the other girl continued. “What a stupid plot for a movie.”

“Everybody knows it,” Jenna said.

“Some people make mistakes.” Gracie was tearing up. “Huge, awful, terrible mistakes.”

She took off sobbing.

“Was it something I said?” asked the cheerleader.

“No. It’s just her time of the … whatever.”

“Is that why she’s walking funny?” She snapped her gum again.

Jenna paused a second to consider her response, then threw a big right cross and knocked that cheerleading bitch out.

“Read into that,” she said, “whatever you like.”


###

Copyright 2016 Cock and Bull Publishing, LLC

Harlowe Pilgrim’s books are available at Amazon, iBooks,  Smashwords.com, Books-A-Million, and most other online booksellers.