The mother was looking at her son. His happiness seemed to ignite a similar feeling in her. She responded to each chuckle with a doting smile, head slightly tilted to one side as if so suffused with satisfaction at this evidence of her baby’s joy that the weight was almost too much to literally bear.
The visitor stared down at the boy. He was still attached to her. tears streamed down his face and belly-laughs shook his entire body. The visitor looked back at the mother. The woman was now laughing with her son.
The visitor took another slow sip. The child held on fast and continued to laugh. The mother’s face creased and her laughter trailed off.
The boy’s laughter began to falter, his grin to die. His mouth closed. His grip, though, remained tight. His eyes, too, remained shut. His mother looked at the visitor. The visitor was looking at her. The guest bent and placed her cup down on the ground. “I thank you for the water.”
Then she stood up. The boy rose up too, still attached to her. He dangled from the woman’s arm as if he weighed no more than a skin bracelet.
The mother rose to her feet too, an expression of fear growing on her face. She backed away.
The woman nodded at her. “Your son pinched the one who should not be pinched. And you let him.”
The mother’s mouth opened but no sound came out.
The visitor swung her arm round three times and as her arm came down on the third swing, the cloud of flies, now droning deep and loud, plunged down and covered the boy’s body. With a piercing shriek – one echoed by the horrified mother - a grey shape detached itself from the boy and fled away, its arms flailing on the flies that sheathed it. It didn’t get far before it collapsed and fell.
The guest bent down and with her other hand detached the boy’s fingers from her arm. The child put his thumb in his mouth and curled up into a tight fetal position.
“This is your son.” The visitor told her, pointing to the form beside her feet.
The mother backed away, shaking her head. Her hands clasped a face struck speechless with horror and her wide eyes swiveled between the two forms that lay on the ground.
“ You never had him.” The visitor reassured her.
“No, no…I ca…can’t…”
“Yes, you can.” The visitor’s voice cut into the woman’s protests like an arrow. “And you will. Understood?”
The underlying threat was clear. Held fast by the other’s gaze, the mother nodded.
“He is your son. The thing that had him is gone.”
They both looked where the other form had fallen, but there was nothing there. The cloud of flies, now twice as large but less noisy as it had been before, hovered several feet above the spot.
“Take care of him. I’ll be around.” A second warning and the visitor walked away. The cloud kept pace above.
Thank you for reading. In case you haven't read and would like to look at the first parts of the story, here are the links:
Part One
