The sight of the cornfields made Abby think of how lost one could get if they ran straight into them; never knowing which way was forward or backward, north, south, east or west. She had no desire to find out for herself.
Abby was looking forward to meeting her grandmother. She had always heard of how special other kids were to their grandparents. Abby’s mother, Cleo, never talked about her grandmother; that is, until yesterday when she told Abby she is going to spend the week at her house.
“Are we almost there, Mom?” Abby asked.
“About an hour to go, honey,” Cleo said.
“Okay.”
Abby looked at her mother. She had one hand on the wheel, and was using the other hand to put one of her hoodie laces in her mouth, chewing it like a child. When Cleo stopped chewing on the lace, she would take her free hand and slowly rub the side of her head where her scar was. Abby noticed that her breathing was shaky.
“Are you okay, Mom?”
Cleo flinched for a second, as if she just woke up.
“Oh, I’m okay, honey.”
Cleo smiled at Abby and caressed the back of her head.
“Everything will be okay.”
She took her hand away from Abby and put it on the wheel. Abby thought her mother’s reaction was a little odd, but she shrugged it off and went back to looking at the cornfields.
They eventually turned into a long dirt road that seemed to go on for miles without end. After ten minutes, an old wooden house appeared in front of them. The house was dark brown and not very big. There was a shrub of tall tree hovering over the left side of the roof. Two windows were centered on the second story of the house. The front porch had nothing on it except for a rocking chair left of the door in the middle. As they stopped in front of the house, an old lady came out to meet them.
“We’re here,” Cleo said.
The two of them got out of the car and approached the porch. The old lady stood on top of the steps. She was wearing a light lime dress, worn out brown loafers, and she had her thin gray hair tied up in a bun.
“Hello,” the old lady said with a smile.
“Hello, Mother,” Cleo said, looking at the ground.
“Lovely weather today, isn’t it?” the old lady said.
“Yes it is,” Cleo said. “We had a smooth drive here.”
“Oh, I’m glad.”
The old lady gestured to Abby.
“Is this my granddaughter, Cleo?”
“Yes it is, Mother.”
Abby stepped next to Cleo.
“Abby, this is your Grandma Judith.”
“Hello, Grandma.”
Abby put out her hand. Judith took it warmly.
“Hello, sweetling. It’s so nice to finally meet you. We’re going to have lots of fun this week.”
“I can’t wait,” Abby said cheerfully.
Judith’s smile broadened. Abby noticed a glimmer in Judith’s red eyes; it seemed almost unnerving, but Abby ignored it.
“Abby, would you be so kind as to get me a glass of water from inside, I’m awfully parched,” Judith said.
“Of course, Grandma.”
Abby walked up the stairs and almost tripped.
Be careful, honey,” Cleo said, feebly.
The inside of the house smelled musty. The kitchen was at the end of the hallway to the left. To the right was the dining room with a small circular table surrounded by four chairs and a couple shelves for antique plates. Abby was intrigued by the decor of the house and thought to herself that she wouldn’t mind living in a comfortable little place like this, although she didn’t care for the smell.
Abby walked back outside with the glass of water in time to see her Mom’s car drive away. Judith stood on the porch watching the car disappear.
“Here’s your water, Grandma.”
Judith turned around and smiled.
“Oh thank you, sweetling.”
She took the glass and lightly sipped it.
“Why did my Mom leave so quickly?”
“Oh she had to get back home for work,” Judith said, “Don’t worry, she’ll be back in a week to come get you.”
Abby didn’t mind her mother’s immediate departure, but she was confused; her mother always gave her a hug and kiss goodbye before she dropped her off anywhere.
*
Judith had Abby sit down at the kitchen table.
“I made this while I was waiting for you to arrive.”
The plate had two boiled eggs and dry ham. Abby thought the eggs tasted funny and the ham was hard as wood, but she understood table manners and courtesy enough not to voice them. Judith sat down next to Abby and patiently watched her eat.
“Do you know why you’re here, Abby?”
“To visit you, right?”
“Well, that is part of it.”
Judith folded her hands.
“How old are you, sweetling?”
“I just turned 12 a month ago,” Abby said proudly.
“Perfect.”
Judith cleared her throat.
“There is this pageant Bronnsville holds every year, which girls from the age of 10 to 18 participate in. The girls will go up on stage, wearing their pageant dresses, and give a small pitch as to why they should win. They will end the performance by singing a song.”
“Is there a prize?” Abby asked.
“Why of course there is, sweetling.”
Judith’s eyes sparkled.
“The prize is the title of Ms. Kettlecorn for the year.”
“Oh,” Abby said.
“Isn’t that exciting?”
“I guess.”
Abby had never been in a pageant before, and the idea never appealed to her.
“I submitted your mother into the pageant every year that they would let her participate, but she never won Ms. Kettlecorn; in fact, she always got last place.”
Judith’s smile disappeared. Her eyes turned a dark crimson and her mouth sat tight. Abby was unsettled by the look in her eyes. Then the smile jumped back on Judith’s face.
“But now I have you, and you won’t fail me like your mother did, right?”
Abby stammered for a second. Judith leaned in closer to her; the red eyes went black, like a shark at the smell of blood.
“Right?”
“Right,” Abby said quickly.
“Good.”
The crimson retreated back to light red.
Judith walked into her office, and came back out holding a piece of paper.
“These are the lyrics for the song that you are going to sing. I would like you to have them memorized by tomorrow so we can start practice.”
Abby read the lyrics to herself.
“I see the sky when it rains,
I feel the water on my skin.
The clouds take shape,
and make the world gray.
I hear the thunder roaring behind,
and I wait for the sun to rise.
Yeah, I wait for the sun to rise.”
Abby lowered the paper back onto the table.
“So, what’s there to do around here, Grandma?”
“Well, there’s a kitchen that needs cleaning.”
Abby chuckled, but saw that Judith was not.
“Oh, you’re serious.”
“Yes. Now get to it.”
It took Abby thirty minutes to finish the dishes. Afterward, Judith had her vacuum every carpet and rug in the house. Next, high dusting every shelf and cupboard; every last one.
Judith finally let her go around 8:00 at night. Abby went to bed and immediately lost consciousness when her head hit the pillow. She woke up the next day disappointed; sleep seemed to be the only fun thing to do in this house.
That morning, breakfast was green bacon and moldy hash browns; the sight of the food made Abby grimace.
“Good morning, sweetling,” Judith donned her smile.
“Morning, Grandma.”
“Did you sleep well?”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad.”
Abby picked at her food, building up the courage to take a bite.
“Did you memorize the lyrics like I asked you to?”
Abby looked up from her plate, realizing she had not.
“Yes, Grandma.”
Judith stopped moving. She turned to face Abby.
“Are you lying to me?”
Judith’s voice was tainted glass; Abby could feel her red eyes piercing into her soul. She tried to resist the fear, but the red eyes were ruthless. She bowed her head.
“Yes.”
Abby looked up, feeling guilty. Judith’s face was unmoved. Abby felt something shoot up her spine and it was all she could do not to shake like a whelping puppy; she thought she saw flames whirling in the red eyes, ready at any moment to sprout and burn.
“Well, as long as you admit it, I’ll let this one go.”
It was Judith’s pleasant voice.
“Wait, really?”
“Of course, sweetling.”
Judith smiled. Relief filled Abby’s entire body.
“Thanks, Grandma.”
Judith nodded and walked around the table to her.
“Here, let me get that for you.”
She picked up the plate of food and silverware. Abby took a fresh breath and felt the adrenaline flow away. The feeling of hope and excitement she felt on the drive there began to return; maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Before Abby could take another breath, Judith took the fork and thrust it into Abby’s hand. She shrieked in pain; tears and blood quickly flowed from her body, the hope fading with the shock. Judith leaned in close.
“Like I said, I will let this one go, but if you ever lie to me again, it’ll be the tongue instead of the hand, got it?”
Abby whimpered. Judith applied more pressure. Abby yelped.
“Got it?”
Abby nodded fast.
“Good.”
Judith yanked out the fork. Abby yelped again, and almost fell out of her chair. Judith tossed the fork on the table, leaving a small trail of blood.
She grabbed the lyric sheet and slammed it on the table.
“You are not to leave this table until you have perfectly memorized those lyrics. Do I make myself clear?”
The red eyes flared.
“Yes, Grandma,” Abby choked out.
“Good.”
Judith left her in the bloody mess. Abby sat there staring into space, breathing rapidly; wondering how and why things had gone this way. She managed to collect herself somewhat after a few minutes. Too afraid to get up from the table, Abby ripped part of her skirt off to bind her hand instead of asking for gause. She thought about the scar on her mother’s face; the question of how she had gotten it, mixed with the real possibility that she might leave this place with a similar mark, made Abby feel terrified, almost nauseated.
An hour later, just as she had gotten the lyrics completely memorized, Judith walked out of her office.
“Have you memorized the lyrics?”
“Yes, Grandma.”
“Good. Follow me.”
Judith led her into the living room. The only furniture that she had was an old green couch, another rocking chair and a little table with a lamp on it. Standing against the furthest wall, next to the fireplace, was a big wooden case and record player. Judith pulled out a record from the shelf built into the casing, set it on the turntable and dropped the needle. It began with a crackling sound, then a woman’s voice started to sing. Abby heard her sing the lyrics she memorized. After the song ended, Judith lifted the needle.
“I’m going to play the song again; this time, you’re going to sing with it.”
She dropped the needle. When the woman started singing, Abby tried to emulate the vibrato, but failed miserably.
“Stop,” Judith said. She lifted the needle. Abby stiffened and braced for another punishment.
“That wasn’t good,” Judith said. “Try again.”
The needle dropped, and the song began. Abby was distracted by Judith’s mercy and missed her cue and began late. The needle lifted.
“Again.”
Back down the needle went. Abby failed again, the needle went back up.
“We will keep doing this until you do it perfectly, understand?”
“Yes, Grandma.”
“Good.”
The routine went on for hours with next to no progress, and the torture of anticipated punishment that never came.
At about two in the afternoon, the needle lifted once again.
“We’ll pick this up tomorrow, sweetling. You need to do your chores.”
“Yes, Grandma.”
The cleaning routine was repeated; do the dishes after dinner, high dusting and vacuuming. When she finished, she went straight to bed. That night, Abby cried herself to sleep.
*
The next morning, pancakes were served; purple and slimy pancakes. Abby sat down at the table and started eating. She winced at the first bite, but persisted and kept eating. After the kitchen was clean, they started practice at 8:30.
By noon, Abby could barely speak. She was exhausted from constantly singing. Not only had Judith made her sing the same thing over and over, she demanded that she sing loud and proud.
“Again. Quit missing your cue.”
Eventually, Abby felt as though she needed to throw up; she started to dry heave at the beginning of the song.
“Are you kidding me?” Judith screeched. “This is worse than yesterday!”
Abby was on all fours; she was terrified of Judith but she couldn’t take it any longer.
“Grandma, can we please take a break?”
Judith glared at her.
“You want a break?”
She slowly walked towards Abby, grabbed her by the wrist, and she used her other hand to grab one of the irons from the fireplace.
“Here’s your break.”
Judith pressed the flat front of the iron into Abby’s armpit. She screeched in agony. Judith tugged her to the ground, grabbed her other wrist, and pressed the other armpit. Abby lay there for a moment, breathing rapidly and whimpering.
“Get up. Your break is over.”
Judith put the iron back in the fire pit. She walked back to the turntable, and dropped the needle.
That night, Abby stared out at the long, endless dirt driveway. She mumbled to herself:
“Mom, come back. Please come back for me.”
She rested her head on the window sill in a small puddle of tears.
“Please Mom, don’t abandon me. Please.”
She threw up her breakfast in the toilet. When she got back in bed, she looked out the window again and saw her mom’s car pulling up the driveway. Abby let out a cry of shock.
“Mom! I’m here, Mom. I’m here!”
Abby turned around at the sound of footsteps coming from the door. Judith came into the room.
“What are you doing, sweetling?”
“I-“
Abby looked out the window, and saw nothing. No car. No Mom.
“I thought I saw something.”
Abby’s voice was thick with grief. She closed her eyes and awaited her next beating.
“Be quiet, and go to sleep.”
“Yes, Grandma.”
Judith left and closed the door behind her, leaving Abby to her hopeless imagination.
*
“I’m going to run some errands,” Judith announced after breakfast the next morning.
“I would like the entire house spotless when I get back.”
“Yes, Grandma.”
“And when you clean my office, I want everything exactly the way I left it.”
The red eyes flashed briefly when she walked out the door.
Two hours had gone by, and the inside of the house looked almost presentable as real estate. Abby was never allowed in the office, and she was scared to look in there; but at the same time, she was morbidly curious about it, because Judith spent most of her time there, doing God knows what.
Before Abby went into the office, she checked outside to see if Judith was home. The car wasn’t there. Abby walked into the office and almost couldn’t breath from the smell of mold.
The office wasn’t very big; it had a small desk up against the front wall with a post-it board in front of it, and on the left side of the room was a little dress hung up neatly in a glass case. Abby walked up to it, scanning the dress with growing curiosity. The dress had white puffy shoulder cuffs; the rest of it was dark blue, almost black, with weaved lines of white and red. At the bottom of the casing sat a small pair of shining red shoes; they appeared to be Abby’s size. She rushed out of the office and looked outside. No car. She went back to the office and opened the glass casing. She swept the shoes from the tip all the way to the back with her finger. Her fingers moved to the color patterns of the dress. She stopped and darted to the door to listen for a car pulling in. No noise.
As she gently wrinkled the shoulder cuffs, Abby imagined herself wearing the dress; walking into a room with dozens of people, and the look on their faces at her presence. She feels good in the dress, like she could do anything and nobody could stop her; she feels confident, almost powerful. She feels beautiful, then she sees her mother in the crowd and the smile on her face, and Abby beams in sunlight.
“What are you doing?”
Abby jerked back to reality, her hand taking a piece of the shoulder cuff with herr, making a small tearing sound. She turned to face the voice’s origin and saw Judith standing in the doorway holding a bag of groceries.
“What’s in your hand, sweetling?”
Abby choked on her racing heart in her throat, and no words could come out. The red eyes blazed.
“Did I not tell you to leave everything exactly the way it was?”
Abby couldn’t speak; the terror had eaten her tongue.
She was still holding the ripped piece of the cuff when Judith slammed her against the tree in the backyard. There was an old rope laying next to the tree. Judith tied one of Abby’s hands, looped the rope around the tree and tied the end to Abby’s other hand; the rope was small and tight enough where Abby could only turn her head a little to either side. The knots dug into her wrists, cutting off circulation.
“You’re almost as bad as your mother,” Judith said as she walked towards the shed.
“I gave her a roof to sleep under, food to eat and a mother’s love. I asked her to do the same simple tasks I ask of you, and yet she always gave me the same attitude and defiance.”
Abby heard her rummaging around in the shed.
“Cleo was never going to be Ms. Kettlecorn. Deep down I knew that, but I kept trying and eventually failed. But you…”
Abby was pulling at the ropes, hoping beyond hope they would come loose. She felt Judith’s disgusting breath slide into her ear and down the side of her neck.
“I know you have what it takes.”
Judith cut the back of Abby’s shirt open, revealing her bare back. The thought of her mother’s scar came back to Abby, along with crippling horror when she heard the crack of a whip.
“I just need to rip it out of you.”
The lash struck like a lightning bolt, and Abby screamed.
The second lash made an X. By the fourth lash, Abby’s voice was gone and she was swallowing tears. She lost consciousness by the sixth.
When Judith untied the rope, Abby fell like a plank; she landed on her back and the pain jolted her awake. She laid there, silent and huddled. Judith left her there.
Abby woke up in darkness, surrounded by the sound of crickets. She looked up and saw the stars; the sting of the X shot up her spine and she groaned. She turned onto her side to minimize the pain, and saw Judith towering over her.
“Get up, you need a bath.”
While Judith was cleaning Abby’s wound, she hummed to herself, smiling. Abby paid no mind; she was staring into the air in front of her, with a vacant expression on her face.
*
After breakfast, Abby went into the living room to start practice for the day. Judith came in and handed her a piece of paper that had her speech written on it.
“Hello! My name is Abby Sawyer.
You may think I’m just like any
other girl performing on this
stage today, but my angelic voice
and winning smile will change
your mind.”
Abby memorized it verbatim in ten minutes. For nearly three hours, she practiced presenting the speech to Judith; every time she wasn’t satisfied, Judith jabbed the lashes with a pen. Abby didn’t cry when she jabbed or made any noise. She didn’t feel the pain anymore; in fact, she didn’t really feel anything anymore.
At the end of practice, it was dark outside. Abby did her round of chores.
“Before you go to bed, sweetling,” Judith said in her pleasant voice. “I want you to practice your smile in the mirror. Ms. Kettlecorn has a winning smile that charms everyone who sees it.”
“Yes, Grandma.”
“Show it to me.”
Abby gave a winning smile.
“Perfect. I want you to practice that every time you go to bed.”
“Okay, Grandma.”
Judith smiled.
“I love you, my sweetling.”
“I love you too, Grandma.”
“Now off to bed.”
As she was brushing her teeth, Abby held the winning smile; she smiled at the mirror, making sure it was a good smile, molding it, perfecting it, letting herself become Ms. Kettlecorn. Ms.Kettlecorn laid down in bed smiling, crying only for Judith’s selfless love.
Two days later, the day of the pageant arrived. Judith let Ms. Kettlecorn try the dress on.
“How do I look, Grandma?” She did a little spin, her smile bright as day.
“Beautiful, sweetling.”
They ran through the entire performance one more time before they left. When they arrived, Judith led Ms. Kettlecorn to the stage. She saw all the other girls who were competing; some had green dresses striped with red, others were blue and yellow, and one was completely black.
“Are you ready to win Ms. Kettlecorn, sweetling?” Judith whispered.
“I am Ms. Kettlecorn, Grandma.”
Judith smiled brightly and kissed her on the forehead.
“Don’t forget, I’ll be watching.”
Judith walked outside and left her to her fate.
The first three girls did their performance. Ms. Kettlecorn watched them; she knew that she would receive what she deserved, but she admired their effort and skill.
The judges called her to the stage. When she stepped on, she did a slow scan of the crowd. The feeling of power and confidence returned to her, and she felt ready, more than ever, to show them who she was.
“You may begin.”
Her face instantly switched to her winning smile, almost automatically.
The crowd roared with applause, for Ms. Kettlecorn had spoken her words and sung her song.
*
After the last girl’s performance, one of the judges stood up to speak.
“This year’s pageant has been a huge blast, if I say so myself. We had a lot of great performances, but there can be only one Ms. Kettlecorn. So after some discussion and hard choices, we have the final tallies. Are y’all ready?”
The crowd cheered, while Ms. Kettlecorn waited patiently.
“In sixth place, Randi Rosemyer.”
Applause rang forth.
“In fifth place, Sarah Miller.”
More applause.
“In fourth place, Sahara Sizemore.”
Ms. Kettlecorn took a relaxing breath, awaiting her victory.
“In third place, Rachel Ceaser.”
Ms. Kettlecorn closed her eyes and smiled to herself.
“In second place, Abby Sawyer.”
Abby’s heart stopped. Her eyes flew open wide.
“And in first place, Vanessa Beachen. Congratulations Vanessa, you’re 2024’s Ms.Kettlecorn!”
The crowd roared once again, but Abby couldn’t hear it. She was supposed to be Ms. Kettlecorn, not this other girl. All of a sudden Abby felt hot, even though it was a cool day. She looked into the crowd and realized the red eyes were burning her.
Abby walked off the stage and wandered into the crowd.
“Abby!”
Abby ignored the voice, thinking it wasn’t real. She thought about what she was going to do.
“Abby!”
Abby stopped walking. She started to panic, hoping that Judith wouldn’t punish her too hard.
“Abby!”
She turned to the voice expecting wrath, and instead felt arms wrap around her.
“Oh, Abby.”
Abby stood still, taking in the hug her mother was giving her.
“Mom?”
Cleo stopped hugging her.
“Yes it’s me, honey.”
Cleo put her hands on both sides of Abby’s head.
“Are you okay?” Cleo asked.
“I should have won, Mom.”
“Oh it’s okay honey, you did great up there.”
“No, Mom. I was supposed to be Ms. Kettlecorn.”
Cleo saw the look in Abby’s eyes, and started to tear up.
“Oh my God Abby, what did she do to you?”
Cleo hugged her tight again. Abby felt her mom’s tears sliding down her neck.
“Why did you leave me?” Abby asked.
Cleo stopped hugging her.
“I left because I had to,” Cleo said. “I didn’t want to, but I had to.”
“What do you mean?” Abby asked.
Cleo looked up for a second. Abby could see the pain in her eyes.
“Your Grandma, she would have taken you away from me for good if I didn’t let her do this.”
“You mean to hurt me?”
Cleo was sobbing.
“Yes, honey. I’m so sorry I let this happen to you. But it’s over now. You did what she wanted, we can go home now.”
“Really?”
“Yes, honey.”
Cleo was smiling through her tears. She hugged Abby once again. Abby remembered where her home was. She remembered what her life was like before Ms. Kettlecorn.. In that moment, Abby smiled. Not Ms. Kettlecorn’s winning smile, her genuine smile, and she teared up. Cleo stood up.
“I love you, honey.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
Cleo grabbed Abby’s hand.
“I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever-“
Abby didn’t hear the gunshot. She only heard a long, heavy ring in her ears and felt something spray her face. She touched her face and came away with blood on her fingers. The crowd went ballistic; everyone ran in every direction. Abby just stood there, staring at her mother’s corpse and what remained of her face.
“Mom?”
Abby felt someone grab her arm and yank her away.
“Come on, sweetling,” Judith said. She pulled Abby with her left hand and held a pistol with her right. Abby couldn’t take her eyes off her mother. The numbness returned, her expression becoming vacant.
“You failed me, Abby,” Judith said. “But don’t worry, we’ll just try again next year.”