Exodus
06 Feb 2020Today’s prompt: “A family (not your own) on the street where you grew up”
The Jamesons moved out first. Mr. Jameson had been offered a job at a new company where he was going to make a lot more money, and he and his family moved out of state.
Word quickly spread that the family that moved into their old house was a little weird. Your friend Emily, who lived two houses down, said she’d heard that the family kills a chicken in their back yard for dinner, cuts it up, and all of the family members eat a piece of it raw, and their creepy son Jeremy eats the head. Your friend Elijah, who lived across the street, said he’d heard the family dances around completely naked in the middle of the night, except their creepy son Jeremy, who wears a pair of mittens and nothing else. Hannah down the block, who liked to hang out with the bigger kids, volunteered that they probably all had cooties.
Your mother, of course, didn’t truck with ridiculous rumors. A few days after the new family moved in, she walked over with a fresh loaf of bread and with you in tow, and introduced herself and you. You stared at the walls as Jeremy’s mom, Mrs. Meyer, introduced you to Jeremy. There was this recurring squid-monster in a lot of the artwork, and a three-eyed bat-thing in others.
You could tell your mom had noticed the weird decor, but was charging ahead in her neighborly way. “I think it’s real interesting what you’ve done with the place,” she said.
“Thank you,” Mrs. Meyer said. “We think it’s important to have reminders of your values in the home.” Your eyes alighted on an embroidery hoop where Mrs. Meyer had cross-stitched the phrase “Cthulhu fhtagn.”
“I suppose we’ll see Jeremy at Washington Elementary?” your mom asked.
“No, we’re home-schooling him,” Mrs. Meyer said.
“Oh, we’ve thought about doing that,” your mom said. “What curriculum do you use?”
“We use Anenok,” Mrs. Meyer said.
“Anenok. I haven’t heard of that one before.”
“It used to be called An Enoch Book. After Enoch Bowen, the founder of the Church of Starry Wisdom.”
“Ah,” your mom said, with a tone you had rarely heard before, one that usually involved you being quickly escorted from a room. “I’ll have to look that up later. I hope you like the bread. Let me know if you want the recipe.” And with that, the two of you walked home. You glanced behind you. Creepy Jeremy was staring at you from the window.
Not long afterward, old Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham agreed to their daughter’s long-time request that they join an assisted living facility. When a new family moved in, the Meyers family helped them with their boxes, excitedly chatting about the church service both families had just been to. The entire neighborhood looked on warily.
A month later, Emily’s family moved away, claiming that with Emily’s baby brother on the way, they would need a bigger house. Elijah’s family moved out a couple months after that, citing a need to help take care of Elijah’s aging grandmother. Hannah’s parents sold their house later the same month. You asked Hannah’s dad why they were leaving and he looked at the family moving into Elijah’s old house – a family whose mother wore necklaces with the same symbols on them as Mrs. Meyers – and mumbled something about “there goes the neighborhood.”
But Hannah’s family never moved out. They never got the chance. They were murdered instead. All three of them. And it looked – what did the policeman say? Ritualistic.
Your mother tried not to look alarmed in front of the neighbors, but inside your house, she was making plans. She called her sister and asked if your family could stay with her. You wouldn’t spend the time moving out. She told you to pack a bag – just a few days of clothes, your schoolbooks and other necessities, nothing more. Your mom locked the house and you and your family walked outside, duffel bags in hand, to the minivan. The minivan that Mrs. Meyers and her friends from around the neighborhood suddenly walked around the other side of, knives and chains in hand.
“Going somewhere, neighbor?” Mrs. Meyer said.