Free The Braid: A Short Story by Angela Yuriko Smith

 
    Nine o’clock—Cambria yawned, stretched, and groped for the remote. Clicking off the television, she listened to the quiet house. It was too quiet.
    “Hey, brat!” she yelled. “What are you destroying now?” It was time to put Missy, the girl she was babysitting, to bed. She waited for an answer. Still quiet. Cambria's forehead crinkled in annoyance.
    “You better answer me…” Her voice trailed off as she listened. A gargle and cough answered her. She dropped the remote and ran to the staircase to see Missy on the top step, face blue and eyes bulging out of her head. The five-year-old’s tongue protruded from her mouth.
    “Oh my God!” Cambria rushed to her. “What happened?” She stuck her fingers in Missy’s mouth, searching for whatever she was choking on.
    Missy pushed Cambria away. “Stop it!”
    “What the hell are you doing? You scared me to death.” Cambria wiped her hand on her jeans.
    Missy giggled. “Your fingers taste like butt.”
    “How would you know?” said Cambria. “Been eating butt sandwiches lately? Knock it off or I won't babysit for you anymore.” She scooted the girl to one side and sat down. “It's bedtime anyways.”
    “No!” Missy said, protesting. “I’ll be good. I was pretending to be the woman with the braid. She was making funny faces.” The little girl turned her face away from Cambria and looked up into the empty air above the stairwell. Cambria's eyes followed.
    The ceiling was high and in shadow. A dark wooden beam crossed over the stairwell. The dust was so thick along the top Cambria could see it from where she sat, a grey layer softening the rough edge. As she stared, a sprinkle of dust trickled down to the stairs below, silhouetted against the large window facing them. The wood creaked slightly as the house shifted and Cambria felt thick silence stuff itself into the empty rooms around them, making her ears feel pressurized like they were about to pop.
    “What woman—?” she asked, her voice low. Missy pointed to the beam. The creaking was regular, rhythmic and Cambria wondered why she’d never noticed the sound before. She swallowed.
    “There’s no one there, stupid.” She felt a trembling that began at the base of her spine and traveled upwards, like a frozen slug, sending shivers through her hair.
    “C’mon,” she said, standing up. Her voice rang through the house, loud like an alarm. “Let’s get you to bed.” Missy continued to stare at the shadows over the stairs, so Cambria tried again. “C’mon and I’ll give you a braid like hers.” Missy looked up at her babysitter, blue eyes wide with shock.
    “No, Cambria, don’t give me a braid like hers! That’s why she makes funny faces.” Missy cocked her head at a sharp angle and let her jaw go slack. She rolled her eyes, showing the whites, as she held her breath. Her tiny tongue protruded from her mouth sideways. Cambria’s chest tightened and her heart throbbing against her ribs, as Missy pretended to choke.
    “Why would her braid do that?” asked Cambria, voice cracking. Missy stopped her pantomime.
    “Because the braid’s around her neck,” she said.
    Cambria stiffly turned her head to stare up at the beam that still creaked softly in the shadows. Another sprinkle of dust filtered down past the window as she watched.
    Missy made another choking sound and Cambria's hand shot out, slapping the little girl across the face. Missy held her hand up to her red cheek, tiny lips making an “O” shape as her eyes filled with tears. Ashamed, Cambria felt like she might cry herself and her cheeks flushed with heat.
    “I told you to stop it,” she said. “It's time for bed, not playing games.”
    Missy was in full wail as Cambria nudged her into the hallway and toward a bedroom.
    “Oh, shut up!” Cambria said. The little girl's sobs grated across her nerves like steel wool. She opened Missy's door and shuffled the girl inside. “Don't even worry about brushing your teeth,”