by Chris Yodice
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\nThe girls always thought that there was a head in the box, but they couldn\u2019t imagine whose.<\/p>\n
They remembered their father making \u201carrangements\u201d for a great-uncle who had died, but that was less than a year ago, and the box was older than that.\u00a0 Besides, those arrangements, they had been told upon inquiry, were for the whole body.<\/p>\n
Family photo albums were strewn with the faces of men and women they had met once or twice and had never seen again.\u00a0 And there were some they had never met at all.\u00a0 Though their parents consistently described these people as old friends, or even family, when questioned on their current whereabouts, they were often vague.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not sure,\u201d their father would say with a slight shake of his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh,\u201d their mother would say, \u201cThey\u2019re around.\u201d\u00a0 Sometimes she would laugh.<\/p>\n
These responses only emphasized the unaccounted-for status of any number of heads from their parents\u2019 past.<\/p>\n
The box sat on the top shelf in their parents\u2019 closet, out of reach of the girls\u2019 little fingers, even if they were to pile their mother\u2019s paisley storage boxes one on top of the other and climb up.\u00a0 Which they had tried twice.<\/p>\n
So they contented themselves, when their parents were otherwise occupied, with opening the door to the small walk-in closet and stepping inside.\u00a0 They would stare up, their necks bent as far back as they would go.\u00a0 The box itself was silver and based on its sharp reflection of the closet\u2019s single light bulb, was likely metal.\u00a0 It had well-defined edges and a discrete top that fit snugly on the base.\u00a0 It was probably twelve inches square.\u00a0 Sara, the older girl, had learned about the volume of cubes in school the year before.<\/p>\n
The box looked somewhat out of place among the more common and pleasant objects in their parent\u2019s closet.\u00a0 To its right was a see-through plastic storage container with several drawers in which their mother kept gift-wrap items \u2013 folds of paper, assorted cards, and brightly colored ribbons.\u00a0 One of the sections contained craft accessories.\u00a0 To its left was a pile of sweaters and sweatshirts, fluffy and familiar, favorites of their parents when the air turned crisp.<\/p>\n
It would have sat there essentially unnoticed, that silver box, were it not for the peculiar comment that Samantha, the younger girl, claimed to have overheard the only time that she saw it off the shelf.\u00a0 She had walked by their parents\u2019 bedroom and, standing in the hallway, had seen their mother and father sitting on the bed with the box between them.\u00a0 The top was removed and lay on the white and lavender flowered comforter.\u00a0 Peering inside, their father wore an expression of wrinkled disagreement while their mother looked quite pleased.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe should wrap it better,\u201d their father had said.\u00a0 \u201cOr else the nose will fall off.\u201d<\/p>\n
This, at least, is what Samantha reported to her sister.\u00a0 Sara initially disagreed.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was right behind you, Squish-Face,\u201d she had informed her sister in a superior tone, proud of the term of endearment she recently coined.\u00a0 \u201cHe didn\u2019t say \u2018nose.\u2019\u201d\u00a0 But her certainty wilted when she found herself unable to state with real confidence what the word had actually been.\u00a0 \u201cRose?\u201d she suggested.\u00a0 \u201cBows?\u201d<\/p>\n
As the days passed and Samantha kept on, tenacious in her six-year-old\u2019s insistence that she knew exactly what she had heard, Sara eventually became convinced that what was in the box was indeed a head.<\/p>\n
The girls did not mention the comment to their parents and certainly never asked about the box directly.\u00a0 But they often talked among themselves.<\/p>\n
One mid-spring evening, when the daylight lasted until just after dinner, they stood outside their parents\u2019 bedroom door looking in.\u00a0 They spoke in whispers as the long shadows of the backyard trees reached across the room toward where they were standing.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy are they keeping a head in the box?\u201d Samantha asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere else would they keep it?\u201d Sara said.\u00a0 She considered her answer logical.\u00a0 Had she been familiar with the word, Samantha might have called it sarcastic.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo other people keep heads in boxes?\u201d<\/p>\n
Sara did not know the answer.\u00a0 As she decided whether or not to admit this and found herself leaning toward an authoritative maybe<\/em>, she was startled by a voice from behind them.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s going on here?\u201d their mother asked.\u00a0 She was rubbing her hands together and Sara smelled the vanilla lotion that they kept by the kitchen sink.\u00a0 She liked that smell.<\/p>\n The girls were silent.\u00a0 Sara looked at Samantha, saw her mouth open, and watched her tongue slip over her bottom teeth and behind her lip; it flared at the sides.\u00a0 She was about to talk, Sara realized.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s okay,\u201d their mother said first.\u00a0 She smiled and stilled her hands.\u00a0 \u201cSisters can have their secrets.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe can?\u201d Samantha asked.<\/p>\n \u201cSure,\u201d their mother said.\u00a0 \u201cIn fact, everyone has secrets.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cReally?\u201d Samantha asked.\u00a0 \u201cEveryone?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYour<\/em> friends, my<\/em> friends.\u00a0 Even your father and I.\u201d\u00a0 She winked.\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s perfectly normal.\u201d<\/p>\n Samantha considered this for a moment.\u00a0 She stole a quick glance toward the closet door and her tongue flashed.<\/p>\n \u201cAre we normal?\u201d she asked.\u00a0 \u201cOur family?\u201d<\/p>\n Her mother laughed, bent over, and kissed the top of the younger girl\u2019s head.<\/p>\n \u201cNormal depends on how you look at things, sweetheart,\u201d she said.\u00a0 \u201cBut we\u2019re as normal as anyone else, I can tell you that.\u201d<\/p>\n She bent again and kissed Sara.\u00a0 She took both girls by the hand and led them into the kitchen.\u00a0 Their father was stepping away from the dish rack, setting a towel down on the stove handle.\u00a0 He looked outside.<\/p>\n \u201cIt seems to be just warm enough for ice cream,\u201d he said.\u00a0 \u201cAnyone interested?\u201d<\/p>\n Samantha responded immediately, jumping up and down.\u00a0 Sara was more subtle.\u00a0 But, yes, she was interested.\u00a0 She considered the conversations of the last few minutes.\u00a0 Ice cream on a spring night was normal.\u00a0 A head in a box in the bedroom?\u00a0 She wasn\u2019t sure.\u00a0 What she knew was that she loved her family; Samantha did too.\u00a0 And they were happy.\u00a0 For the moment they put aside all of their questions and enjoyed the evening.<\/p>\n But they were still curious. Sara watched them through the glass door, wondering if they all really did have secrets, when she noticed a stepstool resting against the wall.\u00a0 She had seen her mother use it last night, re-hanging her newly laundered valances above the kitchen windows.\u00a0 It seemed the day would offer an opportunity for them all.<\/p>\n The two girls pulled the stepstool as quietly as they could down the hall and into their parents\u2019 bedroom closet.\u00a0 Sara opened it, climbed to the top, and picked up the box.\u00a0 It was heavy and cool.\u00a0 Samantha stood a step below her, one hand grasping the bottom of her sister\u2019s yellow sundress.\u00a0 She let go quickly upon seeing Sara turn, swinging the box toward her.\u00a0 Unprepared for the weight, the younger girl almost dropped it with a huff.<\/p>\n Placing the box on their parent\u2019s bed, the two girls stared at it for a moment.\u00a0 They had never seen it this close.\u00a0 There was no lock and the top looked as if it would come off easily enough.\u00a0 Sara wondered aloud if they would recognize the head.\u00a0 Samantha, looking much like her father, wrinkled her nose.\u00a0 The sound of the adults laughing came in through the back window.<\/p>\n \u201cReady?\u201d Sara asked.<\/p>\n Samantha nodded.\u00a0 She looked very serious.\u00a0 The girls each placed their hands on opposite sides of the top of the box and counted to three, the younger\u2019s count coming half a beat behind the older\u2019s.\u00a0 As suspected, the top came right off.<\/p>\n They both laughed when they looked inside, relieved not to find a face, familiar or otherwise, looking up at them.\u00a0 Their parents may have secrets, but, here, the question of normalcy was finally settled.\u00a0 It was not a head in the box after all.<\/p>\n The activity in the backyard lulled.\u00a0 It picked up again soon enough but the momentary stillness startled Sara.\u00a0 The inner calm that came with her sated curiosity would be quickly dispelled if she and her sister were caught.\u00a0 Their mother may allow secrets, but she was not fond of snooping.<\/p>\n \u201cOkay,\u201d she said to Samantha, \u201clet\u2019s put it back.\u201d<\/p>\n They slipped the cover into place and Sara hurried back up the stepstool.\u00a0 Her footing secure, she reached forward and returned the box to its shelf.\u00a0 After a quick peek through the bedroom window confirmed that the adults were wholly occupied with their own activities in the light of the open yard, the girls replaced the stepstool where they had found it.\u00a0 A gentle breeze rippled the curtain at its side.<\/p>\n Samantha was ready to walk outside, her mouth filled with cheese, when Sara thought back to what could have made them think there was a head in the box to begin with.\u00a0 Her sister.\u00a0 Her sister and her sister\u2019s imagination.<\/p>\n Sara stepped into the bright sunshine beaming through the backdoor screen and caught Samantha by the shoulder.<\/p>\n \u201cI told you Daddy didn\u2019t say \u2018nose,\u2019\u201d she said.\u00a0 She never should have doubted herself; she wouldn\u2019t next time.<\/p>\n Samantha turned, her face blank.\u00a0 Then her features opened wide with realization, the connection made between the cryptic comment and what they had actually found in the box, which was as far from a head as could be.\u00a0 She giggled, the sprightly sound blending with the laughter from outside.<\/p>\n \u201cOhh,\u201d she said, drawing out the word with knowing satisfaction.\u00a0 \u201cHe said \u2018toes.\u2019\u201d by Chris Yodice The girls always thought that there was a head in the box, but they couldn\u2019t imagine whose. They remembered their father making \u201carrangements\u201d for a great-uncle who had died, but that was less than a year ago, … Continue reading
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\nThe day that the girls finally reached the top shelf was bright and warm.\u00a0 By mid-afternoon, their parents were entertaining friends in the backyard.\u00a0 Sara and Samantha were in the kitchen hovering around the cheese that had been left when the grown-ups took their wine glasses out to the patio.\u00a0 \u201cLet\u2019s take advantage of the day,\u201d their mother had suggested.<\/p>\n
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\nCHRIS YODICE lives and writes in New York. His stories can be found online at MicroHorror, Bewildering Stories, and Toasted Cheese, as well as in print in Rosebud Magazine and (shortly) Conceit Magazine. Chris can be contacted at yodicec@gmail.com.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"