Whisper Down the Lane, Clay Chapman [best short books to read txt] 📗

dolls kicking up some dust in my hometown. Boys and girls suddenly weren’t allowed to bring their Cabbage Patch Dolls to school anymore because some fundamentalist mother on the school board believed they were possessed. By signing that contract and taking that oath, children were bringing the devil into their homes. It seems so silly now—but back then, people believed, actually believed these toys were vessels for the devil.

Can you imagine? The local church even hosted a Cabbage Patch burning. They tossed dozens of dolls into a pile and lit them up, the flames swallowing that patch whole.

Just some stupid-looking dolls. Dimples and blank eyes, bovine smiles. That’s all they were.

So why were my wrists shaking?

I opened the card. In red crayon, the letters loose and crooked, as if a child had scribbled it, it read—

DAMNED IF YOU DO

  SEAN: 1982

Sean couldn’t believe his ears. Had Mom just ordered two Happy Meals? He swore he heard her say two! Just like the Doublemint jingle sang—Double your pleasure, double your fun—all Sean could think about was who would be getting that second toy.

“What would you like to drink with that, ma’am?” said the crackling voice from the drive-through speaker.

“Orange soda and—” Mom turned back to face Sean in his booster seat. “What’re you thirsty for?”

Sean took in the monolithic menu looming just outside his window. It towered over his head, an ancient pillar etched in fast-food hieroglyphics. He had to lean back to take in the mysterious alphabet he couldn’t quite decipher. Even though he still wasn’t quite old enough to read, Sean was positive there were many yummy foods to choose from. He knew the options: Big Mac, Chicken McNuggets, French fries, Filet-O-Fish swaddled in its special blue paper wrapper.

Eating at McDonald’s was a treat. Mom only brought him here if there was something worth celebrating. This had to be one of those moments, even if he had no idea what he and his mother were commemorating. He certainly wasn’t going to ask. He didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

When Sean and Mom had said goodbye to their old home and driven the endless stretch of interstate to reach their new—and smaller—house, he assumed he’d never eat at McDonald’s again. But now he was elated to learn that Ronald McDonald had followed them all the way to Greenfield, Virginia.

How had Ronald found him?

Maybe the move wouldn’t be so bad after all. If he could still eat Happy Meals, just like he had back home, perhaps life wouldn’t be that much different here after all.

“Sean?” Mom’s voice snapped him back to the car. “Earth to Sean. What do you want to drink, hon?”

Sean pressed his luck. “Can I have a…a vanilla milkshake?”

The corner of Mom’s eyes pinched just a bit. “How ’bout a Hi-C? You like the orange drink, right?”

“Okay.” Sean nodded, trying to hide his disappointment. He knew milkshakes cost twenty-five cents extra but he tried anyway. All these changes. This fresh start Mom kept mentioning. Who knows? Maybe drinking milkshakes could be a part of this fresh start, too?

Mom leaned out from their Mercury Colony Park wagon with simulated wood siding. “Make that two Hi-Cs.”

“Will that be all today?”

“That’s it.” Mom’s left arm rested along the rolled-down window, her head leaning against the door. A wisp of her hair caught the wind and drifted across Sean’s window. He watched it whip about on the other side of the glass, a string on a lost balloon lifting into the sky.

“Two cheeseburger Happy Meals with Hi-C,” the menu crackled. “Drive up to the first window, please.” This last part sounded like cry up to thirsty no knees to Sean.

Mom turned to face Sean again, bringing her finger to her grinning lips. “If the cashier asks,” she whispered, “just tell them the Happy Meal’s for your sick sister back at home.”

Why was she whispering? Was the voice still listening to them? Were there people eavesdropping? What would happen to Sean if the voice found out he didn’t have a sister?

Sean knew Mom was ordering herself a Happy Meal because it was cheaper than the regular adult meal and instantly felt a twinge of guilt.

“You can have my toy.” Mom arched an eyebrow, giving him a mischievous wink.

Sean’s face brightened. Of course he’d play along with Mom’s game for two toys! Ever since they began the Big Move, this fresh start, he felt like he’d become Mom’s sidekick. The two were on the lam now, making their big escape. The rear of the station wagon was filled with cardboard boxes, each labeled clothes. toys. kitchen.

Mom had kept the radio on for most of the ride, cranking up the volume until they were drowning in sound, the station wagon filled with music. “Come on, Sean,” she’d cajoled him, leaning forward just enough to find his reflection in the rearview mirror. “Sing with me!”

Sean had shouted, “I don’t know the words!”

“The real words don’t matter!” she’d said. “Make up your own!”

To prove her point, she’d crooned through her own rendition of whatever tune was playing on the radio. Wham’s “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” became something entirely different: Take my nose, before you blow-blow…Don’t sneeze before you bring a tissue up and flow-flow. Take a breath, before you blow-blow…I don’t want your snot on me toniiight…

Sean couldn’t help but laugh as Mom murdered the lyrics. She knew they were wrong but Mom put her all into her mangled version. She hit the high notes right alongside George Michael, bobbing her head to the beat, dancing in her seat and drumming her palms against the steering wheel. She’d smack the horn at the end of each verse, just to get the station wagon in on the fun, too. He imagined her dancing along with Mr. Michael, wearing a white sweatshirt with go-go printed in black block letters across her chest.

Mom was doing everything in her power to make this fresh start feel like fun. Like an adventure.

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