One Bloody Thing After Another by Joey Comeau Page A

her mother walking beside her, older now, old and wrinkled and at the end of a long life. That’s not a normal thing to worry about, and so Jackie is worried about having that worry, too.
    Two girls walk by in school jackets.
    â€œOh my god!” one of them says, and she stops right in front of Jackie and the stranger. She’s younger than Jackie. She’s got thick, dark eyebrows. She’s so pretty. If Jackie asked her, she’d probably be her friend. They’d have so much fun, talking about all the boys who like her. “Does that hurt?” she says.
    â€œDoes what hurt?” Jackie looks her right in the eye.
    â€œYour hand,” the girl says. She reaches out for it, but Jackie pushes past her. The strange old lady still has her arm linked with Jackie’s.
    â€œIt’s changing color,” the girl says. “I think you need to see a doctor.”
    You know who would be really good teammates in a fight? Jackie and Ann. There’s no way you could take them both out. They would be the ultimate fighting team. The odds of both being unconscious at the same time are very slim. The odds of you knocking one of them unconscious and surviving the ensuing berserker rage of the other? Perhaps even more slim.
    â€œAre you okay?” the old woman asks. Jackie stops and looks at her, finally. This old lady cannot possibly be her mother. “Are you listening? You should go to a hospital. Can I call your parents? Do they know where you are?” She won’t stop talking. Jackie pulls her arm away and stumbles out into the road. The woman is back there, still talking. Jackie spins around to say something, and for a second it really does look like her mother.
    â€œMom?” Jackie says. The world around her flickers when she says the word.
    A car hits Jackie.
    Glass shatters.

38
    Mrs. Hubert won’t be calling her dear again anytime soon. Jackie’s Sunday best gave her the wrong impression. She thought Jackie was one of those proper young ladies from her church, but Jackie is one of those proper young ladies you see on the tv news at night.
    Smash!
    Now there are two big rocks in the car. There’s broken glass everywhere. Smash! Jackie loves that sound. All her arm hair is standing up. Her mouth tastes like blood. When you open the cat food can and the cat jumps right up from whatever it was doing, that’s how breaking glass sounds to Jackie. Perfect. Amazing.
    Jackie leans in through the window of Mrs. Hubert’s car and brushes the glass off the passenger seat rock with her good hand. She pulls the seat belt across and fastens it securely. This is nice. It paints a pretty picture. Out for a Sunday drive with the windows down. Mister and Missus Rock. Lovely.
    There are no tree limbs scattered in the backyard. The grass is green and freshly mowed, but the tree branches are gone. There are no trees at all in the backyard. There are holes where each tree used to be. Jackie feels like she’s going crazy. They were there just a minute ago. There were trees there. They were there when Jackie put that first rock through the window.
    Jackie pounded on her door and Mrs. Hubert said, “It opens up the backyard, don’t you think?” And now the trees are all just gone. There are holes in the backyard. There are no trees.
    â€œWhere did the trees go?” Jackie yells at her, but Mrs. Hubert’s talking on the phone. She doesn’t hear. She just keeps repeating herself: police, police, police. In the backyard, Jackie looks around. The branches of the first-kiss tree are gone. They were right there. Is she nuts? The holes look collapsed. This makes no sense.
    Jackie meant to leave before the police arrive, but they’re early. The police car pulls into the driveway.
    â€œThat’s embarrassing,” Jackie says when the two cops climb out of their cruiser. “You both wore the same outfit again today.”
    to
39
    â€œIs this my one phone