The Pretend Game

Daddy's home and I'm up late. Daddy always comes home after I'm asleep but not tonight. Tonight I get candy and makeup on my face and I'm up late, late, late.

When we're all in the house, we play the pretend game. Josh is the worst at the pretend game.

"Ooh, popcorn ball. How'd you score that, dummy?" Josh takes it from my good, good pile on the table and bites into it.

"I'm not a dummy. I'm smart."

I put that popcorn ball in my good, good pile so Josh would take it. He always takes from my good, good pile. I don't like popcorn balls. They're too big and round and not melty.

"Right, dummy." Josh slams the back door when he leaves and Mommy pretends he doesn't. Mommy is the best at the pretend game.

"It's ridiculous," Mommy is telling Daddy. "Almost an hour both ways, just to get him into town for some trick-or-treating. These fuel prices are killing us, John. And we never see you."

Suckers go in the good pile. Chocolate goes in the good, good pile. I am quiet. I am good at the pretend game.

"You wanted a bigger house. I got you a bigger house."

"Not in the middle of nowhere."

"They're building on the west side. Few years, the mall will be right down the street."

"And until then we're stuck out here, isolated-"

"We're hardly isolated. Mr. Corson's right across the field."

"The creepy old man with the scarecrow?"

"So, it's a scarecrow. We're in the country."

"It's about as back woods as you can get. Creepy, cornfed people like Mr. Corson probably still butcher their own meat..."

"He's harmless, Nadine. And so's that scarecrow."

"He keeps moving it closer to our house, John. Did you notice that? Like a threat."

Daddy laughs the pretend laugh. "Maybe you do spend too much time out here alone."

Mommy is right, but I don't say. I don't want to lose the pretend game. Daddy leaves the room, so that means he gives up. He gives up every time.

I unwrap a chocolate and melt it in my mouth and watch Josh walk through the back yard to the shed where he hides.

Mommy does the sad sigh. I am quiet. We are the last two playing. Mommy pretends not to see Josh in the shed. She pretends I'm not there eating all my candy. Then she leaves the kitchen.

I watch the scarecrow. I know he's closer 'cause I used to not see his face, and now he is closer and I see he doesn't have a face. Under his hat he is just brown and lumpy. He has clothes, though. A brown shirt and jeans and a black coat that goes all the way down to where his feet should be but I don't know if he has feet 'cause the corn is really tall and hides most of his bottom half.

I melt all the chocolate candy in my mouth one by one. Then the peanut butter ones. Then the caramel. The whole time I watch the scarecrow. And also to see if Josh comes back. He doesn't. I am up late, late, late.

Then I go to my bedroom way, way in the back of the house. It is closest to Mommy's and Daddy's 'cause I used to be a baby before the pretend game. I take off my black pants and my black shirt and my black cape but I leave my make up on 'cause I like it. My face is all white except for black around my eyes to make me look dead. And red on my lips and down my chin for the blood. 'Cause I am a pretend vampire.

I put on my pajamas and look out my window, and now I can see the whole scarecrow. I can see his legs. They stick out at the bottom but he doesn't have feet. The jeans are tied in knots at the bottom. I think that is funny, and then I don't. 'Cause I can see all of him. 'Cause he's closer.

That's not funny.

I run to my bed and get in and pretend he's not there. I am good at the pretend game. But I am not the best. I want Mommy.

I go to Mommy's and Daddy's door but it is locked. Mommy wins. I go back to my room and I don't look, but then I do.

He is closer.

Right there. In the back yard. I have to look. I am not the best at the pretend game. He is there in his jeans and his brown shirt and his long black coat with no feet and no hands and no face. He is right by my swing set.

This time I hide under the covers to help me pretend. But I still hear. The wind and the rustle-like-wrapping-paper and the banging on the glass and the window- shhhh- slide open. Oh, it is him, it is him. Moving but scarecrows can't move 'cause he doesn't have feet but he doesn't move when I am looking at him!

I'm not a dummy. I'm smart.

I sit up and throw back the covers and I am fierce! I am a pretend vampire! And oh, he is right there. In my room. With no feet and no hands and no face but when I look he can't move, he can't get me. And I swoop at him with my blanket as a cape and I keep looking, looking at him while I tear away his hat then his coat and pull out all his insides that are the dried-up wrappings of corn. 'Cause I am a pretend vampire but he is a real scarecrow that really moves and I rip and tear and keep looking, looking, looking at him until he is not real anymore.

I lose the pretend game.

But I'm not a dummy. I'm smart.