IV
Jillian Henson had worked long and hard to get her pharmaceutical license, yet because of her frequent hospital stays she had run out of sick-leave time. But, Jillian knew the real reason why she lost her job was because her Manager had finally gotten his way in getting her fired after she slapped him in front of customers for making a pass at her. A lie, of course, is what Stanley Freeman told everyone because she was caught too many times coming up short on undocumented medications. That was a lie; even the new hires were aware of Jillian’s honesty. She missed her job, but not all the drama. Spencer never gave her a hard time like people did. So they went for their long walks even without George.
The next day Jillian made sure they were alone before they ventured beyond the open field. They were glad the mild winter was over. The high grass needed to be mowed after all the heavy spring rains, yet neither of them cared. In the moment when Jillian was distracted by the massive ground shadow of an overhead passing plane, the dog’s leash was yanked out of her hand. “Spencer,” she yelled out. A few feet away the Brittany spaniel’s hind quarters were all his owner could find sticking out of the brush. Sighing, she retrieved the leash handle. As she stood up again, Jillian froze in place staring through the layering of branches. A beautiful young African woman, with large hoop earrings, was moving strangely just beyond the trees. She recognized her as Chelsea Glasgow, the missing girl from all the news shows.
Jillian knew these woods like the back of her hand, and she also knew that the single trail was much farther in, which made the closeness of Chelsea all the more creepy. The young black woman seemed to almost float along with no stride in her gait. Then, in an eerie fashion, the college-aged student turned about; looking over her shoulder at Jillian with a wide smile. Her mouth had a gaping slash that almost went up to her ear. The woman’s gruesome exposure of bleeding teeth made Jillian step back in alarm. Spencer questioned Jillian’s reaction, but with another glance, the woodland-woman was gone.
“Let’s go home Spence, they don’t want us here boy,” she said as the two began high-stepping back through the lush green field. “Looks like we aren’t the only ones who need help?” The Brittany gave no response.
Just before the two could reenter the apartment’s parking lot, a troop of bicycling boys flew by laughing about something only they knew the answer to. The last cyclist was a much younger boy who was frantically trying to play catch-up and enter the gated community. His pleas fell on deaf ears; it seemed he was forgotten, even a lady walking her dog passed in front of him unnoticed.
CONTINUE Reading... 5
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