Page 9 of The Phantom's Vice

My hand grips the door, meaning to pull it closed. I wonder if Momma will take me for ice cream later. The last time she smiled like that, she and Daddy took me out to Big Scoops and got me the tallest?—

I look up, confused when Momma stops me from closing the door. She’s not looking at me, and I pull on the leg of her pants. Why won’t she look at me? I thought I was special?

She swats me away and takes a step back into the house. When I try to follow, she holds her hand up. “No. You’re going with these men, Boy. They’re going to take care of you from now o—for a while. Okay?”

Wait—WHAT?

“But Momma?—”

“I don’t want to hear it!” she screeches, whacking the back of my head with enough force to send my chin into my chest. “You’re going with them, and that’s final!” My lip quivers as the blond mask hands Momma a thick envelope, which she tears open greedily.

Is this because I spilled?

“All two fifty is in here?” Momma asks.

The black-haired mask nods. “As agreed.”

Momma smiles, shoving the envelope into her bra. Then she puts her hand on the middle of my back and shoves me. My body lurches forward, and I would have fallen flat on my face if it weren’t for the blond-haired mask who catches my shoulders.

I look back at Momma, desperate for her to meetmy eyes. I didn’t mean to spill, Momma! I want to shout. I promise to be better! I promise I’ll be good—just, please, don’t let them take me away from you!

“Do you want to say your goodbyes?” the blond mask asks. Momma just shakes her head, still refusing to look at me.

“He’s a good boy. He’ll do as he’s told.”

NO! No, please! I’m sorry! Whatever it is I did, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I promise!

The blond mask tilts his head. “You realize you will not be able to contact him from this moment on? Do you not wish to say anything? Do you not wish to say goodbye?”

The black-haired mask nudges the blond one gently. “She doesn’t want to, R-57. We got what we needed. Let’s go.”

The blond one stiffens but says no more. Taking me gently by the elbow, he leads me down the porch steps. Forgetting about my ankle, I place my weight on my left leg, and another pop rings out before my body crumples to the ground.

Both of the masked men jerk, matching gasps ringing through those strange microphones as I try to stand. I look down at what they’re staring at and find the lower half of my leg at aright angle.

Huh. I don’t think it’s supposed to do that.

“Forgot to tell you—he’s defective!” Momma calls right before slamming the door on them. On me.

“Fuck, are you okay, kid?” The blond one crouches down, his hands hovering above my leg like he’s scared to touch it. “What happened?”

I shrug, not understanding why this stranger seems so concerned. “It popped earlier. I wasn’t supposed to step on it, but I forgot.”

The black-haired mask joins the blond in a crouched position, only he’s brave enough to prod me. “Does that hurt?”

I shake my head. “Momma says it should, but it never hurts.”

The men face each other, and a silent conversation seems to happen between them. Then the black-haired one faces me, and for some reason, it feels like he’s smiling.

“Madam is going to love you.”

CHAPTER SIX

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Jane Evangeline Entry #3

I’ve made contact with another Mask.

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