Fiction

Story: The Snake-watcher

Cora Orl

Hemmy. Right away, I thought of Hemmy when I heard Tara scream. He’s her bird. I knew there was trouble. Ever since we got home, I didn’t hear him. And he’s always making noises. Chirping and screaming and that.

We went to Tara’s room. She stood there at Hemmy’s cage, just sobbing. First Mr. Zuzu and Jupiter. Now Hemmy. That vulture got to Hemmy too.

Then I thought of Mac. My dog Mac? I yelled for him. He didn’t come. I hoped it was just because of earlier, because I had to yell at him: He broke a lamp. But the way I grew up—we’re talking peeling walls and carpet all torn up—and I’ll be damned if I have to live in that again.

I called again, but Mac didn’t come.

I thought maybe he was in the backyard. I looked out Tara’s window, but I didn’t see him. I opened it and called for him. Usually, he barks or runs around when we call him. But not that night.

We went back to Trevor’s room. You can see the doghouse from there. The nameplate that said “Lucky”—he was our last dog—was gone. I opened the window and called for Mac. Nothing. And the doghouse cage door was closed.

***

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Categories: Fiction

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