MonstrousMay 21. The Monster's Tail

Summer scorched the tiny town of Hacksaw. The sun seemed frozen at its peak, roasting anyone and everything under its hateful eye. The earth was hard and cracked, as were the faces of Hacksaw’s citizens. It was a Sunday and the congregation of the local Baptist church teemed beneath a tent, trying to capitalize on the shade.

During the preacher’s sermon, which consisted mostly of blaming the current drought on the sins of the faithful and unfaithful alike, a girl got up from her seat. Little Suzie Malcolm, daughter of Mary Malcolm, widow. The church was no stranger to Tongues or the spirit moving through any that had great enough faith. The preacher continued, “And look what has become of our children. Wasting away in this heat, Lord.”

He looked on the little girl with pity. Mary Malcolm struggled to keep a roof over their heads. And the roof she did provide wasn't the most sound. The preacher knew from the talk of the townsfolk, usually whispered with fan-covered mouths, that Mary was not a model citizen or mother. He hated to think what evils she had passed on to the child.

Suzie turned to face the congregation. “I can make it rain,” she said. There was a small wave of amusement. Poor thing, she was frying in the heat. Her mother stood and hurried to collect her.

“Let her speak,” the preacher said and Mary stopped. "Truth from the mouth of babes," the preacher said with his wide smile, which earned a few "amen"s. He nodded at a few of the deacons who began to move from aisle to aisle with the collection plate. A merciful distraction where the girl might step away, embarrassed. Mary fixed a withering glare on the girl and just ever so slightly shook her head.

“I don’t have to talk,” Suzie said with a shrug. She stepped out from under the tent and squinted up at the sun. She pointed at the sky. The sunburnt townsfolk breathed a collective sigh of relief as a wind whipped the flaps of the tent. They looked up to see a wall of clouds racing in over the trees, like obedient cows called home. In a matter of moments, the sun was covered. The people jumped as thunder cracked and rain fell from above. It had been so long since they had seen rain, it seemed like, that they forgot what it looked like. Everyone clambered out of the tent, turning their faces upward to gratefully drink in the deluge.

The preacher tried to talk over the rain and the chaos, but they had all stopped listening. When he looked about, Mary and Suzie were nowhere to be found.

Seven days later, the rain had not stopped. What once breathed new life into a nearly dead earth was turning the entire town into mud. Mary and Suzie hadn’t been seen since that Sunday. People talked. The preacher called on them in their one room home. Mary seemed hesitant to open the door, but finally did so.

“Good to see you, preacher,” she said. Her face said the opposite. Suzie was standing just behind her, hiding behind her housedress. Mary didn’t invite him in.

“Well, I was hoping to get to talk to Suzie there,” the preacher said with a wide smile. He knelt down and she stepped further back into the house.

“Now’s not a great time,” Mary said.

“It’s not really a 'great time' for any of us, Mary,” he said. “That’s why I came. To ask Suzie to stop all this.”

“What? You think Suzie did this?” A pot bubbled on the floor with water dripping through the ceiling. “I don’t think that’s right, you saying that. Being a preacher and all.”

“We all heard her,” the preacher said. His smile had not faded.

“She’s a little girl,” Mary said. “Now I’d like you to leave.” She swung the door shut, but the preacher kicked it back open. Mary grabbed a knife from the table and held it out.

“You’re of the devil,” the preacher said, shouting and pointing at Suzie. “And there’s only one way to deal with devils.” He pulled a revolver from his waist and gripped the handle. “Now, Mary, I don’t have to hurt you. But I will if I-” the preacher began but started to choke on his words. He looked down to see Suzie pointing at him. The preacher gritted his teeth and took another step into the house. Suzie seemed surprised.

Mary screamed as she lunged, digging the knife into the preacher’s belly. He didn’t seem particularly bothered. Mary stepped back, scooping Suzie up in her arms.

Suzie’s eyes rolled back into her head and the house began to shake. Furniture began flying, crashing into the preacher and splitting into splinters. One of the kitchen chairs knocked the gun from his hand and sent it flying out into the rain. Ragged tears began to appear in his skin, revealing something roiling beneath. The preacher’s face had gone an ugly shade of purple as he reached down and pulled the knife out. Coins and crumpled dollars started to pour from the wound.

Mary was knocked to the ground as Suzie floated up into the air. The entire house blew away from her, sending the walls crashing down. The preacher’s skin peeled from his frame, flapping about in the wind. Beneath was the sagging skin of a corpse, hanging loosely on his bones. Bugs crawled from his eyes and mouth, getting swept away in the wind. A tail, mostly made of bone, barely held together by flesh, unwound itself from his waist. He yelled something, but it couldn’t be heard over the howling wind that now spun around the house in a twister.

Mary couldn't make sense of what she was seeing. She crawled towards Suzie, an immense pressure pushing her down into the floor. She reached for her daughter, saying a silent prayer. A flying piece of rubble smashed into Mary’s head and everything went dark.

Mary awoke to sunshine and the patter of a dying rainstorm. “Suzie?” she asked, sitting up. Her head spun and she had to stop. Suzie was at her side, slipping her tiny hand into her mother's and squeezing.

“You were bleeding,” Suzie said, “but I fixed you.”

Mary’s gaze landed on a pile of pennies and various other coins. The glint of gold was hidden throughout, peeking out as the sun did too. She followed a trail of various kinds of money to what remained of the preacher, bleached bones smiling up at the sun.