What Tangled Webs

WHAT TANGLED WEBS

A series of scaries written by

Dan Dillard

..ooOOoo..

This book is dedicated my brother, who may have dropped me on my head as a child… and my sister, who most likely helped him cover it up.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS AND NOTES:

So a few people read my first book and for that I am very thankful. I hope I learned something in the process and that it shows in this, my second labor of love.

Thanks to my wife, Stephanie, for hanging around, promoting and encouraging me even when I’m impatient and do the wrong thing. Thanks to my family for so many things, too many to list here. I thank my English teacher from my Junior and Senior year in high school back in nineteen cough-hack-cough and cough…Mrs. Williams, you were a nut then. I hope you still are, wherever you are. I thank the paranormal investigators who keep at it. You all make me skeptical, but your belief gives me hope. I hope there’s another realm out there…and I’d love to one day see that proof that changes my mind. I wish I had more specific acknowledgments, but this was a very lonely book to write.

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2010, 2013 by Daniel P. Dillard

ISBN: 978-1-4523-6448-3

LICENSE NOTES:

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

If you’re reading this and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use, then please return to the e-book vendor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Any similarity to any existing creatures (human or otherwise), events or institutions is purely coincidental. Everything else was intended.

Books by Dan:

DEMONS AND OTHER INCONVENIENCES

WHAT TANGLED WEBS

THE UNAUTHORIZED AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF ETHAN JACOBS

LUNACY

HOW TO EAT A HUMAN BEING

GIVING UP THE GHOST

By now, there may be others.

Find Dan's books here:

www.amazon.com/author/dandillard

www.smashwords.com/profile/view/dktd

Talk to him at any of the following places:

demonauthor@gmail.com

www.demonauthor.com

http://twitter.com/demonauthor

www.facebook.com/demonauthor

http://gplus.to/dandillard

The list of Scaries:

Lament of the Devil

Rite of Passage

Deliver Us From Evil

Epi3Demic

Out, Damned Spot

Briar Trace

What Tangled Webs

The A Word

Saranormal

The Wager

..ooOOoo..

WHAT TANGLED WEBS

..ooOOoo..

LAMENT OF THE DEVIL

Each evening I sit to relax with my meal,

I first check the contracts, perusing each deal.

My menu for dining can differ, you see,

depending on those who have sold unto me.

I find that the righteous are fatty and bitter,

and much prefer ‘filet of casual sinner’.

The faithful are bland adding naught to the stew,

their skin is much thicker, a challenge to chew.

The youthful are spicy; their flesh is quite tender,

I make quite a nice sauce from their kind in my blender.

I don’t like the taste of the squeaky or clean,

but the naughty, till now, were far few and between.

I find as of late more and more my meals sate

as the persons who feed me don’t trust much in fate.

They lie and they cheat which seasons their meat.

A quick char in hell’s flames makes my table complete.

I feel that this warning is needed for most

who don’t want to end up with me as their host.

They laugh at the morals and lessons they’re taught,

proceeding to places they’re told they should not.

Do not stray from your path to the church or the store,

your mistake may be small, but will lead you to more.

Then lost and alone you may find out that you’re,

wrapped up quite nicely and brought to my door.

I will not complain, as it would not be right.

to turn down the souls which feed me at night.

..ooOOoo..

RITE OF PASSAGE

BREAKFAST WAS SERVED precisely at 8:00 am. It was law, carved in stone and no one ever missed it. Not until William arrived. He was new and would be given leeway for a time…but not for a long time. There was no room for slacking, too much was at stake. It was just too important not to follow the rules. The others knew that. They had been there, learned the rules, suffered the consequences of breaking them. If you wanted parents, you had to present them with a perfect package. Competition was fierce. The prize was huge: A forever home.

William showed up three days ago and already this was the second time he had overslept. He was five years old and an apparent slow learner—not dumb, just a few steps behind. He was smiley, always happy, and still looked at the world with wonder, unlike the others. Six other children in all, ranging from six to nine, were there.

Their eyes were different. Hatred might have gotten you halfway there. Cynical was too mellow a definition. What lay in their eyes was disappointment, regret, loss, anger, and hurt all rolled into one, and it gave each of those children the odd look of an older person dressed in a child’s body. All abandoned for one reason or other…yearning for, and so far denied, a second chance.

William made a yawning entrance into the dining area and took his seat next to April. The others stopped eating and talking just long enough to stare at him. He took no notice. Mrs. Spivey, a large woman of sixty with a ship-shape bun of gray hair, spooned some scrambled eggs next to the toast on his plate and poured him some juice. Her lips were pursed together tightly and she looked down a pointed nose at him.

Today is a big day, children, she said, placing a gentle hand on William’s head. We have a couple coming at eleven. It is time to shine!

The children exploded into whispered conversation, all except the newcomer. He ate his eggs and looked around as if wondering what all the discussion was about.

Mrs. Spivey waddled from the room back into the kitchen to start on the dishes. In the dining room, the whispers continued. The more seasoned residents knew what that couple meant. Someone would be chosen. The families that came were always approved for foster care and had chosen a child to interview.

Look sharp, Alexa said. We must be on our best behavior today.

All heads, save William, nodded in unison. Alexa was nine and led the group with a merciless attention to detail.

Dishes up, she said. Breakfast is over.

The children dropped the silverware into their cups and stacked their cups on their plates then carried the bundles into the kitchen to the waiting Mrs. Spivey. She patted each on the head, even William who was last.

You’re coming along quite nicely, William. Well done, she said.

Fanks! he replied in a boisterous voice.

Small feet rushed up the stairs thumping as they went and then split into the two large bedrooms, girls on one side of the hall, boys on the other. They brushed their teeth and straightened their beds. Older kids helped the younger, and then they put on their nicest clothes. Each helped, but secretly hoped against the other. William did his best to keep up.

Alexa pushed through the door to the boys’ room and looked around. When she spotted William, she huffed and then pulled him sternly aside.

You need to shape up, she said sounding more woman than girl. You’ll ruin it for everyone.

Ruin what? he asked, still grinning.

In case you haven’t noticed, new parents don’t come along every day. I want to make sure we put on a good show, so they’ll choose someone.

Who dey gonna choose?

It doesn’t really matter as long as they choose one. We are a family. You are my brother.

William laughed, "Never been a brover before," he said.

Get dressed in your nicest clothes, do you need help picking something out? Alexa asked.

"Not my play cloves, my school cloves?" William said, eyes wide and full of interest.

Alexa smiled but her eyes were still hollow. Yes, very good, she said.

Alexa left him there at his bunk and went back to the girls’ room.

10:15…

10:30…

10:45…

Where are they? Michael asked with great impatience.

Alexa and Mrs. Spivey looked at him with disapproval. They were twins in their mannerisms.

I’m sorry, he said in his defense.

Squirming will never win you anything. Be patient, Michael, said old Mrs. Spivey.

Leanne Spivey had run the home for decades. A stern woman, she took the utmost care of the children and had also taken care of the house since Mr. Spivey passed away twelve years ago.

At 10:59 a car pulled into the drive. It was a smart, practical vehicle, just right for a family. Once the motor cut off, a tall man with black curly hair stepped out. He held a large manila envelope in one hand and opened the passenger door with his other. His wife smiled and thanked him. She was beautiful. Then she gave him an enthusiastic hug. They beamed with excitement.

Not fosters, Alexa said. They must be here to adopt.

That they are, said Mrs. Spivey.

The children sat in a hush.

They are here to see William, she said and smiled absently at him.

William played with his shoe and took no notice of the goings on other than to look up when his name was mentioned. Then he went back to fiddling with the shoe. The other children showed no disappointment, but merely sat stone-faced like tiny statues. Mrs. Spivey approached the front door before the bell rang.

The door opened and the adults exchanged muffled pleasantries as the children strained to hear the details. They waited, sitting quietly in the parlor as the muffled voices and footsteps faded into the distance. There was paperwork to discuss, dots and crosses to check and then they would be back. Alexa stood and stared at William.

Don’t mess this up, she said.

His face showed hurt feelings for a moment before smiling again, an infectious smile.

I won’t. I pwomise, he said and crossed his little heart with a stubby index finger.

To her delight, he sat completely still with the rest of them. He folded his hands in his lap and remained patient and still. His winning smile never faded and his blue eyes sparkled. None of them spoke. None of them moved.

After a ten minute slice of eternity, the door opened and Mrs. Spivey entered. She held the door for the guests and made an announcement.

Children, she said, This is Mr. and Mrs. Edwards. They are here to see William.

The children gave impish grins and waved. Some said ‘hello’ out loud. William stood up and said, I’m William!

The couple smiled and Mr. Edwards said, Well hello there! in return.

Mrs. Spivey introduced the rest of the children ending with Alexa who shook both of their hands before returning to her seat. The gesture impressed the Edwards.

Leanne, these children are so well behaved. You’ll have to tell me your secret so I can keep it up, said Mrs. Edwards.

Patience, love and mutual respect, honey. Children always come around. And when they do, you have to reward them for it, Mrs. Spivey said and then, Children, why don’t you go out and play now before lunch. Mr. and Mrs. Edwards would like to have a few minutes alone with William.

Come on, then, Alexa said.

Like soldiers under command, they stood and followed her outside to the back yard. The door closed behind them leaving William behind with the young couple. Alexa peered over her shoulder as she led the other five outside. Michael hurried to be next to her.

What do you think, he said.

I like them. I hope William doesn’t screw things up.

Do you think they’ll come back for him?

I hope so, Michael. Now go play. I have to think.

She shooed him away and he ran to the swing-set to join the others.

Alexa knew the questions they were asking William inside that room. Mundane, tedious things such as what do you like to do, do you like pets, and how would you like to come home with us.

Ugh, she said.

Alexa steadied herself on one of the swings, keeping some distance between her and the rest. From there, she watched the house until Mrs. Spivey called for lunch. The kids lined up to head inside, but Alexa held Michael back for a moment. Before they entered the house, she spoke briefly with each of them.

When they entered the dining room, William was already seated at the table and the adults stood talking, saying proper goodbyes. All were smiling which meant the meeting had been a success. That was Michael’s cue and Alexa nudged him.

Mr. and Mrs. Edwards? he asked, gently tapping on her elbow.

Yes, uh… Mrs. Edwards said.

Michael, he said.

Yes, Michael?

Do come back for dinner, he said.

They smiled and looked somewhat puzzled at Mrs. Spivey.

"It’s actually tradition here. Whenever new parents come to pick up a child, the other children like to have a bit of a send off. I also consider it a thank you to those people who have room enough in their hearts and homes to adopt," she said.

The Edwards’ cheeks reddened and they glowed with pride. Mrs. Edwards shed a single tear, Well then of course we will, Michael. Thank you for the kind invitation, she said with a quick curtsey.

Alexa smiled, as did the rest. Michael did his best to bow. Mrs. Spivey winked at Alexa and then at Michael. The children sat to eat their lunches and the adults made their way to the door. Mrs. Spivey saw them out then she waddled back to the table and clapped her hands.

Excellent job everyone! Very well done. Now, remember your manners this evening and we should have a grand celebration for William, she said.

Lunch finished and the children cleaned up in time to play for a few minutes before reading. Thirty minutes of reading each day was Mrs. Spivey’s rule. William was to choose a book from the collection in the study and each took his turn reading a passage. At 4:00 pm they were to wash up and begin preparations for dinner which was to start precisely at six.

Mrs. Spivey and Alexa set the table with a linen tablecloth, china and the home’s finest silver. Water and juice would be consumed from stemware in the fanciest of fashions. Printouts from the orphanage’s computer were hung on the walls in the dining area saying:

Congratulations William! and Welcome to the family.

At 5:00 pm the children were expected to be in their church clothes. Little dresses for the girls and small suits for the boys, complete with real ties which Mrs. Spivey tied with her story about a rabbit hopping around a tree and into the hole. After a quick inspection, Mrs. Spivey stepped out to freshen up.

By ten minutes to 6:00, everyone was ready and Michael and Alexa took their places at the front door. Michael hid in the corner near the coat rack holding one end of the wire in his gloved hands. It was tied to an eye hook that was screwed into the wall opposite his vantage point. Alexa stood poised and ready on the other side of the door with her straight-razor.

Are we ready, children? Mrs. Spivey asked with a gleaming smile.

All nodded in approval—even William, who still wore his permanent grin.

Headlights shone through the window as the Edwards pulled into the drive in their family car. Leanne Spivey