The Grim Reaper's Mate

The moon was like a rock hung in the sky drenched in pure silver. She did pirouettes whenever she came out without any applause, but a lone woman swimming in the bay of vintage claret after successfully swindling a couple of a few thousand dollars just an hour earlier did see her for the rock that she was, all alone in space. The radiant light that she emitted was more than enough for the woman to be lulled into a false sense of security. It was a good life. But her beliefs were shattered like a mirror the moment she heard on the stolen police radio that the suspect was still at the shop address and can be taken into custody. The woman immediately jumped from her seat beside the window and dropped off the cloak she had upon her, and along with it went the wig of straight raven hair which came down to her waist and the rows of necklaces made of beads went along with them in the dustbin. She took down the bottle of aerosol on the top shelf and dumped its contents in the dustbin and dropped a match in it. She ran inside to retrieve her get away bag which she always kept packed and updated in case something like this ever happened and not to be a pessimist but this happened and it was the fourth time that Summer was being forced to flee the town. So twenty-seven year old Summer Agnes Martha Williams grabbed the police radio, her car keys and went out of the front door from her shop as if nothing had happened and she was just another customer coming out in hurry. Anyone in the town would not be able to recognize her without her make-up and in her normal look she looked just another youngster going back home. Conning was a profession that she had learnt from the best with years of apprenticeship and then she had found that she was pretty good at it no matter what. She got in her car and started the engine with a soft roar. She loved her car like her own baby and she cared for her like she was one. It was a Mustang ’67 model which was the only thing she had gotten from her family and was grateful for it. Summer knew the drill. She had to go somewhere in the interiors of the town while the police searched her for about a week or a few days at most. She would have to remain absolutely incognito for the time being. Summer took the curve of the road where she had never ventured earlier. This was the road which no one normally took because there were some pretty gruesome rumours about the lane which led down to the road near to a marsh which had got a pretty bad rep. But Summer had no other option at this moment rather than take this fork of the road. “I just hope that I meet someone other than the cops down this lane,” she prayed as she drove down the road. Who knew that the prayers that she had sent outwards for someone to hear would be so fervently granted. Finally when she had driven for a considerable distance and there was nothing along both the sides of the road except crumbling walls being taken back by nature once more in its control, the brine and the salty smell hung in the air like the stench of stored dead bodies. Once you get accustomed with the putrid odour it did not bother you that much but for Summer who kept everything obsessively clean and burnt sage and frankincense it was gagging and choking her like anything and in the middle of this her car suddenly broke down. The police radio which was kept beside her on the passenger seat started crackling with the noise of static. She took it up in her hand and started shaking it and thought it might be the problem of the distance from town. Summer tried starting the car a few more times but the engine sputtered and then gave up. She had absolutely no idea how that was exactly possible since it was working fine this morning. It was a good thing that she knew a thing or two about cars and Summer let out a sigh and got out of the car. There was no light or any kind of illumination in the vicinity except the glaring headlights of her car. Summer wrapped her short shoulder length dirty blonde hair in a pony and opened the trunk of the car to take out her tool set. She had considered that there might be some kind of accommodation nearby where she could stay a few nights paying in cash but seems that finally she had run out of her luck tonight. There was no noise anywhere as well which seemed odd because if a marsh was close by as was apparently clear from the smell, there would be insects, grasshoppers and bugs and frogs who would be making a cacophony of sounds at night. She remembered that since she had gone camping with her family near a lake which was dying. “Do you need some help? It seems that you are lost,” came a female voice standing at her back near her and Summer jumped back scared with the spanner falling from her hand and she bumping her head in the hood of the car. Her Mom used to say that meeting someone new should be always considered to be a divine pleasure but Summer could not say that at all in this case. There was a woman standing at a distance which was close to her but out of the light so she could not decipher the face at whom she was looking. As Summer took up the spanner from the road she saw that there was a snake slithering towards the feet of the woman. “I don’t want to scare you but I think you should move away from where you are. There is a snake near your feet,” said Summer as calmly as she could. “Oh Georgie!! He is nothing but a poor old thing, don’t mind him hon,” said the woman as she came forward and stepped into the light and Summer looked at her face. The woman could see the shock register on her face before she could hide it. Summer had seen a lot of bad things, and had been in a lot of bad places but she had never been scared like this. And she was genuinely scared but she could not pull away her eyes from her face. It was a hauntingly strange work of art. She was of African descent which was clear from the colour of her skin and her hair which was a Mohawk and shaved in the right places and the rest of her hair was tied up in braids which were beaded up. Her eyes were not black or brown like normally they should be of someone of her heritage but they were green, not the vibrant forest hue but the green which reminded you of a shimmering flickering green light over the bayou which only existed in your eyes but actually was not there. Her face was branded on both sides which was covered with soft pinkish skin in the places where they were burnt. There were a lot of rows of beads tightly and loosely hanging around her throat leaving nothing to be seen. She was wearing a pale yellowish colour shift dress which was white at one time probably but had not now faded down to this state. “Oh I am sorry, I did not mean to be rude at all. Do you stay here? Nearby? Any chance I could get some help in fixing my car?” asked Summer as normally as she could trying to keep out the shaking from her voice. “But there is no one who lives here except me. I stay here all alone, all by myself. I am not sure that I can help you with your automobile but I am pretty sure that I can offer you a cup of tea, if you will like it?” asked the woman with a smile. It was a warm inviting smile which assured Summer. If there was anything she knew then it was how to read people and this woman looked different, odd and strange even but not harmful, of that she could vouch. Summer took her bag from the car and followed the woman after putting the car off ignition and taking the keys off engine. As promised her shack was close by, and they reached there to see something come out of a sixties movie set and that too a village. Summer had never seen anything to the likes it perhaps in her entire life. On the other side of the road was a marsh as it was rumoured in the town. With the light of the moon she could see that the soil directly descending into a spattering of moss floating over the soil which had suddenly submerged in water. It was odd still that there were no animals nearby to such a big marshland. But Summer shook off the feeling and entered the shack. It was a single room with a top floor made out of wood and everything which would be found in a forest nearby. There were plants and herbs hanging all around in clumps and also there were a lots of bottles and jars kept in shelves. “You like the place?” asked the woman and there was a strange accent in her voice which Summer could not place from where. “Have you built it yourself? This place I mean,” asked Summer as she sat down on a wicker chair. There was a layer of dust on every single thing inside the house like it had not been used for quite some time. “I have had a little help, you might say,” replied the woman, but she was not a woman, she was a young girl, much younger than Summer herself. “If you do not mind me asking, are you old enough to be living alone all by yourself in a place like this, away from the town? Are you not scared?” asked Summer as she took the cup of tea offered to her. It was chamomile and was Summer’s favourite, her Grandma used to make it for her until that blasted fire. “Don’t be fooled by my face sweet, I am older than I look,” said the girl as she took seat on the other chair opposite to her. “I am sorry, I have not introduced myself yet. My name is Summer, Summer Williams,” said Summer as she offered her hand but the girl looked at it and then nodded her head saying no. “Good to hear your name Summer. But you must not take me wrongly, you see my Momma taught me to not let a white man touch my hand or they are gonna claim a piece of your soul very soon,” said the girl as Summer looked at her in astonishment. She had never heard anyone speaking in such terms ever before and she had a lot of Black friends when she was younger. But she decided to play along. “But I am not a man, am I?” asked Summer as she offered her hand once more. “Fair enough,” said the woman as she shook her hand. Her grip was strong and her hands were rough and calloused like she did manual labour all day long.