Watch Where You Step
By Alice Marks
Today I had to walk to school by myself because my bestie,
Janie Lizeth was sick. Every day we are careful not to step on a ***** in the
sidewalk as we chant, “Step on a ***** and you’ll break your Mother’s back.”
By now you probably have supplied the missing word because
everyone knows that this is a jingle and the word rhymes with back but today it’s
been used for something considered a trigger word by the algorhytm. If you
still aren’t sure what is stepped on, according to my uncle’s thesaurus it is a
“fracture”, a “rupture” or a “fissure”, all meaning separations in the
sidewalk. I guess I’ll use the synonym “fissure” and you will know I mean the
word that rhymes with back.
To continue my story: Today I was preoccupied with Who will
I sit with at lunch with Janie sick at home? And I stepped on a fissure in the
sidewalk. I panicked. Oh, my poor mom. Then I grinned and said out loud, “That
is just a silly superstition.”
I heard a siren. A firetruck sped by. To my horror, it
stopped in front of my house. I turned back to the direction it was headed. As
I reached home, I saw EMTs carrying Mom on a stretcher. My mind twisted, What
if it isn’t a superstition?
“Mom, Mom!” I cried, running to the stretcher.
One of the EMTs pushed me away.
Though in my heart I knew what happened, I asked, “What’s
wrong with my mom?”
“Broken back,” he muttered.
I hadn’t noticed the police car that had pulled up behind
the firetruck. When the officer jumped out of the car and spotted me, he
yelled, ”Is that your mom?”
All I could manage was a whispered, “Yes.”
“Thought so. Another kid stepped on a fissure and here’s her
suffering mom.”
He grabbed me by the arm and said, “Are you going to own up
to being careless, or did you do it on porpoise?”, and he laughed at his own
stupid joke. “No, I guess you wanted to get even with your mom because of some
stupid thing like she wouldn’t let you go to that monster movie at the
Palladium.”
“No, no! I love my mom. It wasn’t on purpose.”
“Hard to believe that. I haven’t had a case like this in
ages, but I can tell. You are under arrest, you little back-breaking liar!”
An ambulance pulled up, and the EMTs put my mom in it.
“Mom, Mom,’” I screamed but she couldn’t hear me because the
ambulance left with its siren screaming.
The police officer threw me into the back of his car. I
planned to jump out and run but immediately discovered there really were no
door handles in the backseat, just like I had seen on TV. I sobbed loudly.
“Shad up back there. Wait until I throw you into a cell to
bawl your head off, you
backbreaking brat.”
I wept more as we reached the police station. The officer
yanked me out of the backseat and dragged me across a cement floor covered in
fissures. Instinctively I hopped over the fissures.
“Too late, Missy!” laughed that awful police officer. “But
you are a pretty good fissure jumper which proves to me that you deliberately
stepped on a fissure to injure your mother in a serious way.”
As I cried, he sneered at me and threatened me with words,
“I’ll be certain to tell the judge that, you cruel little back-breaker.”
The mean police officer handed me to a stern-faced woman who
threw me into a dark little room, smaller than my closet, with bars across the
front. There was no bathroom just a smelly pot on the floor. The only other
thing was a little bed with a gray blanket. I curled up on the bed, which I
guess people call a cot, and covered up with the gray scratchy blanket. I
closed my eyes and pretended I was the one sick on a school day, cozy in my
Barbie themed bedroom in my canopied bed. My mom – tears cascaded down my
cheeks when I thought of her – would bring me tea and toast and later lavender
colored Jell-O.
Instead, the cruel woman brought me a metal bowl with
something that looked like the food we feed our dog, Ralph, but smelled worse.
I asked her if I could call my mom. “Absolutely not! Do you think she wants to
hear from her back-breaking kid? Besides she probably isn’t out of surgery. You
know, she may never walk again.”
I crawled back into bed and cried until I ran out of tears.
The next day I asked the woman, who I had learned was named
Matron, if I could call my mom.
Matron said, “Same answer, no!” and then she added with a
wicked grin, “Do you know what today Is?”
My lips quivered as I tried to think what day it could be.
Finally, I said, “Another day In jail?”
“Smarty Pants! It’s Friday the Thirteenth. That’s beware
day, be careful what you do and say day. It’s the scariest day of the year
day.”
Standing as tall as I could, which missed five feet by a
couple of inches, I spoke in my bravest voice, that came out as a squeak,
“Friday the Thirteenth is just a silly superstition.”
Matron cackled, “You, dearie, are wrong! You are going to
suffer just like your mom.”
A huge fissure appeared on the cell floor. Matron had
stepped out of the way, but I fell right through the fissure. I grabbed onto
the sides and pulled myself out, but Matron gave me a push and I fell and fell
and fell…
I must have hit my head when I landed at the bottom of the
hole because I felt a bump on my head when I woke up. Everything was foggy. It
lifted a little and I saw an ugly troll standing right in front of me. He
looked just like the Boogie Man I used to think every night was in my closet
and sometimes under my bed. I had outgrown that, I thought, but there he was
with his fat lips, flat nose, flaps for ears, and over-sized feet wearing my
bedroom slippers. I couldn’t help myself, I screamed.
That horrid creature laughed and in his spooky voice said,
“So you decided after you were old enough to go to school that I wasn’t real!
Fooled ya! Here I am.” He patted my aching head with his lumpy hand as I
yelled, “Don’t you dare touch me!’
He laughed his evil laugh and said, “Welcome Scaredy Cat
Susie Brat, to The Land Where All Superstitions Come True.”
“I don’t believe you! I know you’re not real.’“ I yelled as
I took off running down the road.
He shouted behind me, “Of course, I’m real, and you better
believe it. Everything here is real You’ll find out.”
I had to slow down because it was so dark. I’m not afraid of
the dark but I don’t like it. Are those bats I hear flapping above? Oh, those
things give me the Wilies. Once one came down Grandma’s chimney, so I know how
they sound. Also, I heard moaning. It has to be ghosts and in a flash of
lightning, I could see both the bats and ghosts flying right above my aching
head. Thunder boomed, there were screams. I hate thunderstorms but here there
wasn’t any rain and the lightning did let me see a little.
One of the moaning ghosts swooped down and grabbed my shoes
and socks. Now barefoot I felt worms squishing under my feet. I gagged and
turned back to find the hole. Somehow I would crawl back up to my cell. At
least there weren’t any worms on the floor. I searched and searched but it was
too dark.
The lightning flashed, and a black cat crossed in front of
me. I love cats and I called, “Kitty, kitty, come here. There’s a superstition
that black cats are bad luck but I don’t believe that. I adore black cats most
of all. Come back, kitty.”
The cat stopped in its tracks and came to me. I tried to pet
him. He yowled, “You better believe I’m bad luck!” He jumped at me, scratched
me on the face, and ran off howling, “Bad luck, bad luck!”
I didn’t know where I was in this noisy, dark underground
place but I discovered I had walked right under a ladder. Three huge black
spiders with bulging green eyes and disgusting hairy legs sat on the top of the
ladder singing “Bad luck, bad luck to walk under a ladder” over and over again.
That is a silly superstition.” I added, without conviction.
“I ’m not scared of ladders or spiders.” At least I’m not afraid of the little
ones in our basement, but these are really big and scary-looking and probably
poisonous. I want to get away from them as fast as possible. I followed the
path where the cat had gone. My bare feet hurt, but there was nothing I could
do about that. The cat jumped out of some bushes and crossed the path, knocking
me over. I skinned my knees as he hissed, “Bad luck! Bad luck!”
The fog was gone and I saw the road was covered with
fissures. I must be more careful. My mom is in enough pain. Why can’t this be a
yellow brick road I’m following?
I turned around and jumped down the path. I avoided the
ladder, but now spiders occupied every rung still singing, “Bad luck, bad
luck!” but they had added another chorus, “Friday the Thirteenth! Friday the
Thirteenth! Watch out, girlie!”
Hurrying past them, I saw the black cat reappear and cross
my path. I jumped over him and he rolled over on his back, grabbed my leg, and
bit and scratched it. I pleaded, “Please black cat. I ‘specially love, love,
love black cats. Please be nice, Blacky.
My leg and face were bleeding and my feet hurt something
awful. I kept jumping down the path. I spied a penny. It was heads up and I
bent down to pick it up, because I knew “Find a penny, pick it up, Heads up,
all day you’ll have good luck.” If anyone needed good luck, I did. I put it in
my pocket.
Out of nowhere appeared someone who looked just like Mrs.
Willus, my math teacher. I know math isn’t my best subject but part of it is
Mrs. Willus is a terrible teacher. Even the parents think so. She screams at us
and she looks hideous with long white hair with a blueish tint and a long nose
and a wart on her chin. Of course, we call her Mrs. Witch-us behind her back.
But what if she is here to help me? I will never say the mean things about her
again.
Instead this person who looked just like Ms. Witch-us
grabbed my arm and yelled in my face. “Well, if it isn’t Susie Carroll from
Brandt Middle School! I bet you didn’t do your math homework last night and now
you show what a stingy brat you are for picking up that penny. What if it was
heads down, would you pick it up?”
“No, of course not!”
“Don’t you know you are supposed to leave it where you found
it when it’s head’s up so someone else has the happy experience of finding it
and having good luck, too?
I didn’t know that. Obedient, I put the penny down, heads
up. Mrs. Witch-us, I mean Will-us cackled and said, “it’s too late now. You
won’t gain any good luck from that penny.” She vanished and I saw the path
twinkled with hundreds of shiny pennies, some heads up, some heads down. What
if Mrs. Witch-us is right about leaving them to bring someone else luck in this
terrible place. Am I supposed to turn the heads down up? I decided to ignore
all the pennies. Anyone who is stuck here needs all the luck they can get but
I’m afraid to touch those tails up. Besides I’d step on more fissures while
doing that and there are more and more fissures on the path. It is impossible
to jump over all of them.
Defeated, I quit hopping and ignore the pennies, the few
bright things in this dark spooky world in which I find myself. There are just
too many fissures. I hope my mom ’s back isn’t getting worse with every fissure
I step on.
At a distance I saw someone I know, somebody Janie and I
don’t like, Amy Sara Kline. Amy Sara-the-beautiful. Amy Sara is a blonde and
goes to a hairdresser every week just like a grown-up. She never has had a bad
hair day and she never gets zits. She also has a figure that makes boys give
her looks while both Janie and I have zits, stringy hair and flat fronts. Amy
Sara also is a snob, who never would ask us to eat at her table at lunch.
Why was she here? What if she stepped on a fissure? At least
we’d have something in common - remorse with both of our moms in the hospital.
I couldn’t help myself, I strolled up to her and said, “Hi, Amy Sara, Why are
you here? Did you step on a fissure or something?”
“Of course, not, Moron! I am here to torment you.”
“Ha! Nothing you say can hurt me. I have something you
don’t.”
“Impossible! You have nothing.”
“You are wrong! I have a true-blue best friend. You have
friends who eat with you because you are rich and may take one of them to a
movie or roller skating. Everyone seems to like you until they wise-up and then
they don’t.”
I could tell I had made Amy Sara mad because her face
started getting red, but she said, “Oh, my, your bestie, Janie! She is bigger
loser than you. She already found a new bestie while you’re serving time in the
Superstition Underground.”
“Liar,” I shouted as I ran away from her, but she caught up
and handed me a mirror from her genuine leather clutch purse.
“Look in the mirror,” she commanded.
I obeyed as she sneered at me. Look at those zits? Don’t you
use some sort of acne preparation on them? And your hair. Do you brush it 100
strokes each night? And no wonder the boys call you ‘flatsy’. Haven’t you heard
of stuffing Kleenex in your bra? And what about First Aid for scratches? Don’t
you know you could die if they get infected? Look in this mirror and you will
see the meaning of hopeless!” And she laughed and laughed.
The hand mirror turned into a full-length mirror and we both
stood looking in it. Amy Sara was more beautiful than ever while I looked
horrible, especially since I hadn’t combed my hair since I wound up in jail, I
have a bump on my head, severe zits and the bleeding scratches from that
miserable black cat, not to mention filthy feet.
Something made me reach out to the mirror, and when I
touched it, it broke into 100s of pieces.
“You, idiot, you broke my mirror! Don’t you know you have
brought seven years of bad luck on yourself and since it is Friday the
Thirteen, it is seven times seven, meaning your whole life you will have bad
luck.”
Tears formed in my eyes but I decided to stand up to Amy
Sara’s bullying. “Sorry I broke your mirror, but I don’t believe in
superstitions. (That was a lie but I had to say something). My dad will buy you
a new mirror when we leave here.”
“You think you are going to leave from The Land Where
Superstitions Always Come True’? I will stay until I’m tired of harassing you.
You are such a loser and so is your friend Janie, who is so stupid she pretends
she is your friend, but I know I something you don’t. In fact I know a lot you
don’t. For example, “Do you know what friggatriskaidekaphobia means?”
“No, I don’t because you made it up!”
“You always think you are so smart and I overheard you call
me a ‘dumb blonde’, but, you don’t know what it means and I do. You should know
the meaning in this underworld so out of the sweetness of my heart, I will inform
you it means someone afraid of Friday the Thirteenth and you sure as heck
should know this in the land where every superstition comes true.”
Turning around so she wouldn’t see I my tears, I yelled, “I
don’t believe you! Go back to the hole you climbed out of.” I continued
walking, flinching as I stepped on a fissure. The black cat, hissing, blocked
my pathway I shouted, “Bad luck creature, where are you going to bite me now?
The cat stared at me and acted all innocent. I deliberately stomped on its
tail. It left howling.
Instantly I was sorry I hurt the cat. I’m a good girl who
doesn’t ever hurt animals. I think I did it because I was so mad about what Amy
Sara said about Janie dropping me when she finds out what I did. I know she
would be loyal to me and take my side. I was thinking about this when I looked
up and saw three vampires blocking the road.
They weren’t wearing vampire black but pastel sweaters and
navy pants likes my great-aunts always did when they were alive. I loved them
and was sad when they died, one after another. I missed them, but now they were
here, with dead-looking eyes ,long scary teeth instead of their regular false
teeth. “We’ve come to suck your blood,” they chanted. More like “lick it” went
through my mind because they look so old and weak.
As if she suddenly recognized me. Great-Aunt Pearl, said, “I
thought she was such a sweet little thing, but it’s horrible to think that in
middle school she broke our dear niece Patty’s back. She must be punished.” She
squinted, “Has anyone seen my glasses? “ Great-Aunt Violet said, “What?”
Great-Aunt Susan, the one I was named after, said, “I don’t remember her at
all.” That broke my heart and didn’t help my situation.
I suddenly remembered a horror movie about vampires that
Janie and I watched at a sleep-over at her house. We learned a vampire can be
scared away with a rabbit’s foot. Darn! I left my lucky rabbit foot at home. I
looked around and saw a rabbit nibbling on clover in the woods to my right. I
crept over to it, and though I hated to do it, I tugged off its left hind leg.
The rabbit didn’t even pause eating as his leg grew back. I returned to shake
the gross bloody leg at my vampire aunties and they disappeared.
It suddenly occurred to me that maybe I had the power to
turn bad luck into good.
Even though I had a rabbit’s foot, I knocked on the wood of
the tree. After a grove of these trees, I saw a meadow. It was filled with
four-leafed clovers and I grabbed a handful. Across the meadow I saw a gang of
kids playing tug-a-war. I wish I hadn’t walked closer because I saw these
weren’t regular kids. They were kid-sizes skeletons. This was the scariest
thing I had seen down in this totally scary place. I had to get out of here.
As I ran back across the meadow I began to itch all over.
All the clover I was wading through had turned into poison ivy. I emptied my
fist only I accidentally threw the rabbit’s foot away I wasn’t about to crawl
through the ivy to find it. I also tossed away the four-leaf clover in my other
hand. Now I had no good luck charms. I crossed he finger of one hand. I knew it
was bad luck to cross fingers on both hands.
As my poor body burned with rash, i saw a big clean and dry
wishbone that probably came from a large turkey. When my brother and I wished
on such a bone, I always won because I was bigger and stronger than he is.
I had no problem of making a wish, “Let me out of this
place” but as soon as I said that I thought I should have wished for complete
recovery for my mom. I picked up the wishbone and a huge, hairy hand grabbed
the other side. We pulled and pulled, and I realized how my little brother must
feel when he always lost. I looked up. The winner was a huge gorilla with a
silly grin. I imagined him breaking me like the wishbone, but he just chomped
on the wishbone. I noticed that his home opposite the meadow was like a jungle
in Africa. I saw a tiger, that could eat me, and a leopard that could help the
tiger eat me, an elephant that could stomp me, some long-eared jackals that
would grab me before the lion and tiger had a chance but what scared me as much
as those skeleton kids were giant snakes coiled around trees and sticking out
their nasty tongues, Suddenly a wild dog with vicious teeth chased me to a
green-colored river. The color of the water bothered me but I didn’t have any
choice. I hoped I could swim better than the dog as I jumped into the water.
The dog didn’t follow. I saw why. The lake was filled with crocodiles, all
smiling at me. Those teeth made me glad that I am a good swimmer, and
apparently the crocs already had eaten lunch because they didn’t follow me to
the other side of the river. I scrambled out and found whatever makes the river
green cured my itching.
This time I found myself in a beautiful rural area where
there were all kinds of gentle animals, cows and sheep grazing, chickens in
pens clucking happily, and adorable baby goats jumping for joy. All kinds of
delicious fruits ripened on trees. I was starved but didn’t touch a single
fruit. With my luck a bite would be deadly.
I was hungry and thirsty and I begin to walk down a dirt
road that has no fissures. It was lined with wildflowers of all colors, which
lead to the prettiest little brown cottage. It looked like it was made of
regular wood, not gingerbread, so I walked closer. It had a blue roof and blue shutters.
I opened a wooden gate attached to a stone fence. The stones surrounded a
garden of beautiful flowers, birdhouses in trees and a birdbath. There was a
porch swing inviting me to sit down while birds chirped and flew around me and
butterflies touched my cheeks.
One window was open with a delicious-smelling pie cooling on
the windowsill. The sweet sound of a flute came out a high window under the peak
of the roof. I noticed a mat at the door that said WELCOME. Close to the door
was a mailbox with the house numbers. I wished I was better at math. There were
three identical numbers, and I wondered what if the combination of identical
numbers was lucky or unlucky. The numbers were 666.
Alice Marks
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