Becca

"Everything is so... flat." Denille said stupidly as she looked around her new neighborhood. She looked around at the muted desert where even the smallest sign of life seemed to have given up. The plant life was shrubs that were half cooked by the heat and where there should have been a lawn, a mess of white rocks laid glistening in the sun. Even the sky looked stretched thin, like the sun had ironed it smooth. She’d moved from Riverside, where at least there were hills, but here in Barstow, everything felt baked and brittle.

Everything except the house at the end of the block. It rose out of the desert like it had been dropped there by mistake. It was a pale green Victorian with a turret, wraparound porch, and white trim that looked too delicate for the heat. The rest of the neighborhood was stucco and broken chain-link fence. But that house looked like it belonged in a foggy New England town, not in a place where lizards cooked on the sidewalk. She felt the wrongness the first time she saw it.

While her parents continued their unpacking adventure, Denille sat outside, baking like a loaf of bread. A man across the street stood watering the rocks in his yard because apparently that was a thing people did here. The hose made a lazy arc over the gravel, darkening it a shade. His eyes flicked over towards Denille, who was eyeing that house again. His hand jerked and his hose slipped, clinking heavily onto the gravel below. Water splashed his shoes but he didn't even flinch. Denille watched as he scrambled quickly to rush and turn off the spigot. He began to coil up the hose with quick, jerky movements.

The man kept his eyes firmly glued to the ground as he hurried inside with his wet house shoes sloshing underneath him. He slammed his door. Denille stood there in the heat, feeling stupid for staring but also a bit unsettled. It was like watching someone pretend they hadn't seen a rattlesnake.

Jenni was the first person to actually talk to her. She was the kind of girl who looked like she’d been in charge since birth. Her dark hair was in a ponytail and her hands were on her hips as she walked up. Her eyes were sharp enough to cut through glass.

“You’re the new girl,” she said, not asking. She popped a bubble with the gum she was chomping on.

“Yeah. I'm Denille.”

“Come on. We’re going to the wash.”

Denille glanced behind her to see three others. I'm Jenni, the gum chewer announced. "This is Nikki." She said nodding her head to the girl who hovered close behind her. "These two are Jake and Kyle." The two boys were arguing about something stupid.

“I’m telling you,” Jake insisted, “if we got stranded out here, I’d survive longer than you.”

Kyle snorted. “You’d die of dehydration before you finished complaining.”

“I don’t complain.”

“You’re complaining right now.”

“That’s not... okay, technically...”

Jenni rolled her eyes. “Ignore them. They’ve been like this since kindergarten.”

Denille smiled. They walked down the street, the heat shimmering off the asphalt. The desert wash was a dry riverbed behind the neighborhood. It was full of tumbleweeds and the occasional rusted shopping cart and it was the only place the kids had to hang out.

As they walked, the air seemed to grow heavy. The boys stopped talking. Jenni’s shoulders tightened. Nikki’s eyes dropped to the ground. It all seemed to happen at once as they were passing the green Victorian.

Denille looked around at the group and then up at the house. The porch railings were too white and much too clean for a desert death trap. The windows were dark even though the sun was blazing and a curtain on the second floor moved, but there was no breeze. A petite girl stood on the porch.

She looked about twelve or maybe thirteen. Same age as them. She had short blonde hair and pale skin. She was wearing a dress that looked old fashioned. She didn’t smile. She didn’t wave. She just watched.

Denille lifted her hand automatically.

Jenni grabbed her wrist so fast it hurt.

“Leave Becca alone,” she hissed.

The boys kept their eyes glued to the sidewalk. Nikki’s breathing sped up.

Denille froze. “What? Why?”

Jenni didn’t answer with words but the fear in her face said enough. They walked faster until the house was behind them. Only then did the boys start talking again. They were loud. It seemed like they were trying to fill the silence with anything else but the uncomfortable feeling from a few minutes before.

“If a coyote came at us, I’d outrun you,” Jake said.

Kyle scoffed. “You’d trip over your own shoelaces.”

“I don’t trip.”

“You tripped yesterday.”

“That was a rock!”

“It was a ladybug.”

Jenni shot them a look. “Can you two shut up for five seconds?”

“Probably not,” Jake laughed.

“Definitely not,” Kyle chuckled along side him.

Denille was confused and intrigued. She didn't ask about the house and no one talked about it either. The days went by and no mention of it came up. When they biked past it, they pedaled faster. When they walked past, they crossed the street. When Becca was outside, they looked at the ground.

The one time Denille asked about her, they quickly changed the subject. The boys joked about everything. School, chores, and each other... but never about Becca. That was how she knew it was serious.

On Saturday, they were sitting in the wash with their legs dangling over the edge of a concrete drainage pipe. Their fingers and tongues were stained with the dye from the Flaming Hot Cheetohs they'd been snacking on. The sun was dropping, turning the sky orange. Jake was trying to convince Kyle that he could beat him in a race to Valero.

“You literally have the stamina of a potato,” Kyle said.

“Potatoes don’t run.”

“Exactly.”

“I hate you.”

“Your mom hates you.”

Jenni threw the crumpled up cheetoh bag at them. “Can you two stop flirting?”

“We’re not flirting,” Kyle said, batting his eyelashes at her.

Nikki giggled. “You guys are like an old married couple.”

Jake pointed at Kyle. “If we were married, I’d divorce him.”

Kyle shrugged. “You’d have to catch me first.”

Their laughter echoed off the concrete.

This was the only time Denille felt like she belonged here. This town sucked major, but these new friends were worth her being stranded in this desert waste land. As their laughter died down, Nikki went still.

“She's coming,” she whispered.

The boys shut up instantly.

Jenni stood.

A figure walked along the ridge of the wash.

Becca.

She moved slowly like she had all the time in the world. Her dress fluttered even though the air was still. Her hair didn’t move at all. The kids looked down at their shoes. Every single one of them. Except Denille. She stared.

Becca’s eyes were so pale. Denille had never seen eyes like that. It was as if the color had been washed out of them. Becca didn't say anything to them. She didn't even smile. She just stared through those pale, unblinking eyes.

Jenni’s voice was barely a breath. “Look down.”

“Why?” Denille whispered.

Becca stopped at the edge of the wash and tilted her head just slightly, like she was listening to something only she could hear. Then she turned and walked away.

The kids didn’t move until she was gone.

Jake exhaled shakily. “I hate when she does that.”

Kyle nodded. “Same.”

Denille swallowed. “Okay, seriously. What is going on?”

Jenni shook her head. “Not here.”

“Then where?”

“Nowhere.”

That was the end of it.

But it wasn’t the end for Denille. One day, she asked Mrs. Cardenas, the librarian, about her. The woman's face drained of all color and said she didn’t know who that was. Denille knew she did. Everyone seemed to know her and not a single one wanted to talk about how.

"If there's not a book you need help with," Mrs. Cardenas said matter of factly, "I've got things to do." She pulled the sleeves of her cardigan down to hide the scratch marks Denille had already seen.

Later that same day, the group was walking home from the wash. The sky was purple, the air cooling. Jake and Kyle were arguing about which of them would survive a zombie apocalypse.

“You’d get eaten first,” Kyle said.

“Yeah, because zombies go for brains.”

“Oh, right. Then... you’re safe.”

“HEY—”

Jenni suddenly stopped walking.

Becca was standing in the middle of the street watching them. The boys went silent. Nikki grabbed Jenni’s arm. Denille felt her heart hammering. Becca took one step forward.

Jenni whispered, “Look away.”

But Denille couldn’t help it.

Her eyes met Becca’s.

The world didn’t explode or anything, But Denille could feel something pulling her from the inside. She felt like her hands were being laced up with string like a marionette doll. The pressure built behind her eyes and she could feel a buzzing under her skin.

She took a step forward without meaning to. Jenni tried to yank her back. Denille reached down and picked up a big rock from the ground. Her eyes never once left Becca's. She sat down calmly on the ground with her left leg extended in front of her. She raised the rock over her head and slammed it down onto her knee. Hard.

“DON’T!” screamed Jenni

The pressure snapped and Denille gasped. The pain shot through her knee in hot waves. Becca blinked slowly one time and then turned and walked toward her house. The kids didn’t breathe until she disappeared inside.

Denille’s voice shook. “What… what was that?”

Tears were falling from her eyes while the friends scrambled to help her get up off the ground. They put her arms around their shoulders and helped her up, she was limping and whimpering.

Jenni looked at her, eyes fierce. “Don't.”

“But why?”

“Because you don’t.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting.”

A few weeks later, dusk was settling in and Denille was sitting on the curb in front of her house. That Victorian house looked even more out of place in the fading light. The porch railings gleamed and the turret cast a long shadow across the yard. She could see the front door was slightly open.

She tore her eyes away and looked at the ground. She wasn’t stupid. She knew Becca had stepped onto the porch. She could imagine the wood creaking underneath her feet. Denille’s skin crawled. She kept her eyes down. A hand grabbed her shoulder and she screamed. It was Jenni.

“What are you doing?” Jenni hissed.

“Just sitting.”

“Let's go to my house.”

They didn’t stop walking until they were three blocks away. They gathered in Jenni’s backyard. The desert air was cool. The boys were unusually quiet. Nikki didn't talk much, but tonight, she finally spoke.

“No one talks about her. Not the kids. Not the adults. Not anyone.”

Kyle picked at the grass. “Yeah, she's basically Voldemort.”

Jake elbowed him. “Dude.”

Kyle laughed.

Jenni’s voice was low. “Just worry about yourself. Stay away. you'll be fine.”

Jake added, “Don't even think about her.”

Denille shivered. “What is she?”

No one had any answers. No one knew what Becca was or how long she had been around. The next day, they walked to the wash again. The boys were back to arguing.

“If aliens invaded,” Jake said, “I’d definitely be the leader.”

Kyle snorted. “You’d be the first abducted.”

“Why?”

“Because you're ugly enough to be one of them.”

Jake gasped. “That is discrimination against aliens.”

Kyle shrugged. “They can file a complaint.”

Jenni rolled her eyes. “You two are exhausting.”

Denille smiled. The fear from the night before felt distant in the sunlight until they reached the wash.

There was Becca standing in the middle of the dry riverbed. Waiting.

The kids froze. Becca turned her head slowly, her pale eyes landing on each of them in turn. One by one, they lowered their heads. Jenni clenched her right hand to her chest. The boys stared at the ground. Nikki clutched onto Jenni. Denille kept her gaze fixed on the dirt. Becca took one step toward them. Then another. She stopped. The air felt heavy. She turned and walked away. None of the kids moved until she was gone.

Jake exhaled. “I hate this town.”

Kyle nodded. “So does your mom.”

Jenni looked over at Denille. She unclenched her hand and showed her the scar that she had been hiding, “She made me stab a stick through my hand.”

Denille swallowed.

"Now you understand?"

She nodded once.

That night, Denille lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as the desert wind rattled the window. Somewhere in the distance, a coyote howled. She pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders. She loved her new friends but she hated this town. She breathed, letting the darkness settle in around her. She exhaled slowly, letting her thoughts drift away like dust in the wind. The window rattled once more, a little softer this time. She didn't have to like this town. She just had to respect that some things were better left unseen.