Bed & Breakfast on Narrow Drive

The clouds coated the sun with darkness above the town of Southdale. Any ray of sun was a stab into someone’s eye, and it wasn’t unusual to have rain. It hadn’t thundered just yet, but the citizens of Southdale were expecting a storm later on in the day. The windows were closed, and the children were trapped in their houses until they were permitted to play in the yards. Every single house in town looked exactly the same from the next with gray shingles for walls, four square windows and a tall door on each of the façades, black roofs, and stout, brown mailboxes. The only difference was the address of each building. By the time it was seven o’clock in town, shadows dressed Southdale.

Only two people were trekking the sidewalks. A boy and a girl in their teens were hip to hip, looking at the darkened, depressing sky. The twelve-year-old girl, Catherine, was constantly fixing her black, chopped hair. After failing her own haircut, she was not going to be pleased until she would find a person to fix her recently-dyed bird nest. The boy, Jet, was two years her senior, and he had to pull her hand away many times during the walk.

“Jet, stop doing that!” she whined.

“Catherine,” he mocked, “Don’t play with your hair. You’re going to rip it all out of your head.”

“But it itches so bad.”

The fourteen-year-old guide smacked his forehead, barely missing his left eyebrow piercing. “That’s what you get for dying your own hair without a stylist, Caty.”

She growled, “I hate you, Jet.”

He smirked. “I thought you hated your parents more for not letting you go to the salon, little girl.”

Catherine stomped her booted foot onto the ground. “Stop calling me that! I’m in sixth grade, going into seventh!”

“Stop acting like one then.” Jet turned back to the sidewalk and halted at the curb. White, old Chevys zoomed past the two teens and slowed to the changing light. The cars closest to the red light had their brakes kicked until the tires squeaked like broken records. “How about we take Narrow Drive instead?”

Catherine raised her eyebrow. “Why?” she asked as a counter.

“Just because I think it’s a good idea. Now, come on.” Jet took Catherine by the hand and pulled her in the western direction onto Narrow Drive. There were less houses in West Southdale. The less housing there was, there was more dead grass that appeared. There was more darkness as well, which made West Southdale a worse place than a dirty city.

Catherine gripped Jet’s leather jacket sleeve and almost tripped on the unbalanced sidewalk. “Jet, it’s dark over here,” she cried.

He flipped his bangs away from his very brown eyes and said, “It’s always dark in Southdale, Caty.”

“Not this dark. I don’t like it. I hate it!”

“Will you calm down and zip it, Cate? It’s just another block in town. There’s nothing to…”

A flash of lightning struck from the clouds, attacking a dead tree right next to the teenagers and setting it into flames. Catherine screamed and ran for her life down the street. Drops of rain harshly fell into town, leaving Jet and the burnt tree soaked.

“Caty!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Catherine, come back here!” Jet dashed across and past two blocks before he saw the girl under a lamp post. “Caty, what the hell is wrong with you?” he snapped. “You could’ve gotten hit by a car or worse!”

Young Caty stammered, “I…I’m I’m sorry, juh Jet. You nuh know huh how muh muh much I hate luh luh lightning.” Her whole body was shaking, and her knees tensed, locked, and straightened. Her clothes were completely wet, her make up dripped from her eyes, and it was hard to see tears on her cheeks.

“Com’ere, Cate.” Jet waved Catherine over, and he wrapped the twelve-year-old in his leather jacket. He had no shirt to wear as a replacement. “There has to be a place to crash somewhere. Probably one of those safe houses, ya know.”

She pointed to the south west direction. “I think I see a sign at the end of the street, Jet. It’s all lit up.” Caty jumped into his arms, so he could carry her closer to the sign. “Bed…and…Breakfast?”

Jet approached the old, shaky house and stared at the blinking sign under the two rectangular windows. “Bed & Breakfast on Narrow Drive,” he read. “I know what that place is. It’s one of those joints that’s like a hotel, but people only stay for one night and eat breakfast the next morning.”

“Is that what we’re doing? We don’t have a lot of money.”

“It won’t kill to try it.” Jet nonchalantly paced himself to the front door, placed Catherine on the porch, and knocked on the door four times. The storm’s wind pushed the porch swing to slightly moving. The chains creaked, making Caty grip onto her best friend once again. “Everything’s fine, Caty. What could possible happen that will make us change our minds?”

The front door opened slowly, and it squeaked loudly.

“Okay, that door needs some oil.”

A mid deep voice appeared in the dark room after a wrinkled hand crawled out from the inside. “Greetings. Are you wishing to stay in my home?” It sounded more feminine when the voice spoke.

Jet nodded. “We just need a place to get out of the rain,” he responded.

Catherine didn’t respond.

The door widened completely, and a middle-aged woman presented herself. She was wrapped in a black bathroom, and her feet were covered by brown moccasin slippers. “People call me Winifred, Miss Winifred to be exact, and this is my bed and breakfast.” A small grin appeared. Catherine’s spine tingled when she saw that a tooth was missing in her upper set of teeth. “I was making some meatloaf for dinner. Would you two be interested in a meal?”

The girl looked down at her stomach. “We we we are kinda kinda hungry.”

“Then, come in. Come in, my dears. Perhaps I shall fetch you a shirt as well, young man. It’s quite cold in the house.” She curled her pointer finger, and the children entered without a question in mind.

When the door slammed shut without touching it, Catherine squealed and held onto Jet once again, nails digging into his skin.

****

Jet and Catherine followed Miss Winifred into the kitchen/dining room, which had two sides to make it the biggest room in the house. The dining section was dressed in blacks and purples, black furniture, purple walls, and patterned carpets. There were two chairs at the round, small table, and the teenagers each took a seat. The wood was cold at Catherine’s legs, but she didn’t make a sound to complain.

Miss Winifred took off into the cozy, 50’s styled kitchen, searching for her cooking meatloaf. “Forgive me for my unpresentable clothes,” she said, “I wasn’t expecting guests on a day like today. No one goes outside during a storm, you know.”

“I’ve seen worse, ma’am,” Jet replied, nodding his head and fixing his stud earrings.

Caty leaned over the table and whispered, “But she doesn’t have any underwear on,” through her teeth.

“Caty!” he hissed quickly.

The oven wasn’t the newest piece in the kitchen. The inside was clean as a whistle, but the window of it had spiderwebs on the outside. Spiders were not guests or residents of the house as of that moment, but the thought of there could made Catherine’s stomach churn like butter. The meatloaf came out of the oven, and it was a beaut to look at. Ketchup coated the dinner’s top, and steam of onions and beef filled the two halves of the room. When Miss Winifred sprinkled salt onto the ketchup, Jet’s mouth began to water. “Anyone want some milk to drink?” she questioned. “It’s good for children, you know.” Her eyes seemed to have changed from blue to dark brown when she said it.

“I take Pepsi, thanks,” the boy answered.

“So do I,” added Catherine.

“Oh, are you sure?” the old lady replied, “Soda rots your teeth and stomach.”

“We are fine,” Jet said. “Can we please have the Pepsi now?”

Miss Winifred cut two slices of meatloaf and put each slice on a plate. She put the two plates on the table where Jet and Catherine were sitting and responded, “I’ll pour you two glasses now if that’s what you want.”

“Thank you.”

While fetching the drinks, Miss Winifred cleared her throat. “Now, tell me,” she said, “What brings the two of you out here at this time of night in this absurd weather?”

Jet took a bite of the meatloaf, swallowed, and replied, “Just out and about.”

Catherine added, “We ran away from home because his parents are brain dead with drugs, and my parents are too overprotective, so we can’t take it anymore,” without thinking first.

“Catherine!”

“You what?” exclaimed Miss Winifred with a gasp. “You poor children shouldn't be running off by yourselves. What will they think?”

“Mine will freak out,” the girl responded, batting her eyes, “but Jet’s won’t care because they are too blind to even look at him.” When she looked at Jet, his face was hidden in his arms, and he was mumbling, “You are an idiot, Caty,” but the woman couldn’t hear him.

“I can’t see how they can’t see their son dressed in leather and has female jewelry on his ears and forehead. What has this world come to that men are wearing women’s jewelry?”

Jet only showed his eyes, and they burned. No one made a mockery of a boy who came from a broken and poor household, especially if he was Jet. He didn’t care how nice and old Miss Winifred was. If he heard her say anything else, he was going to go on a rampage.

“No matter. I don’t usually make a deal like this, but I’ll let you stay upstairs overnight and eat breakfast here for free. I won’t call your families if that’s what the both of you really want. If you both are really good, you can stay here as long as you want.”

Catherine nodded. Her friend remained silent, but the old lady knew that he was saying, “Yes.”

“Well then.” Miss Winifred went to the white cabinet that was next to the corridor of the dining portion and pulled out the spare key to the guest bedroom upstairs. “This key is yours. Take good care of it. Besides that key, I have the only one to the guest bedroom. I don’t want to have to call a locksmith if both keys go missing.”

Catherine took the key into her own hands. “Thank you, Miss Winifred. It’s very kind of you to let us stay.”

“Oh, I’m just an old lady who’s only trying to pay her bills with her business money, you know. Anyhow, you shouldn’t be worrying about me. Eat and get some rest, dears.” Her eyes darkened once again under the dim lamp lights. “Food and sleep give you juicier minds, you know. Take my word for it.”

****

Jet and Catherine went immediately upstairs to the guest bedroom after dinner. It was small, but it had two beds, a closet, a TV, and curtains to make it simple enough to remind the teens of home. For Jet, it was a little more than he bargained for. For Catherine, it was a tad bit less, but she expected that, of course. The carpets were purple, and the walls had a lighter shade of the same color. A few portraits were hung up, and they all had the similar theme of children playing. The windows were locked shut, so when Jet tried to open one, it wouldn’t budge.

“And no air conditioning either, Caty,” he muttered.

“Look on the bright side, Jet,” she responded, “At least it’s dry from Southdale rain.”

“That may be true, but doesn’t this place feel eerie to you?”

Catherine stared at the black-framed, gray quilted bed. “A little, I admit. I might as well sleep in my shoes tonight.”

“Might as well sleep in our day clothes. There’s nothing to wear in here.”

“There’s always the closet,” Caty pointed out.

“I don’t trust anything in this old hag’s place.”

“Don’t be so stubborn.” She turned the knob and pulled the door open. “Wow, there are a lot of clothes in here, Jet.” Catherine pushed through the hangers and observed every piece of clothing, from jeans to sweaters. “All in different sizes. Kids and adults.”

Jet’s stomach started to turn, and his face was turning paler than normal. “Cahline, something really doesn’t sound light,” he slurred, trying to speak regular English. His shaking voice didn’t help much. “Why would an ol’ lady like Wilifed having splare clothes in the closet fol us?”

“Maybe it’s considerate business,” Catherine suggested, “Perhaps she’s one of those people who decides to help the needy instead of…AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” The girl jumped back, tripped on the carpet, and almost smacked her head against the bed frame.

“Catherine! What’s wrong?” Jet exclaimed at the top of his lungs. When she didn’t respond, he poked his head into the closet. Removing the clothes from his sight, he came across a slightly open, cardboard box. His fingers slipped through the flaps and pushed one side upward. His head hovered over the inside, and his heart stopped. “Oh, damn! I knew there was something sketchy about her,” Jet stammered, pulling out something. When he showed it to Catherine, it turned to be a child’s sized skull. The girl shook madly. “And I highly doubt that the others in there are Halloween decorations.”

“Jet, I hope she’s not what I think she is,” she said, breathing heavily.

“Caty, there’s no use hiding it.”

“Is everyone alright up there?”

Jet and Catherine shrieked to the sound of Miss Winifred’s voice.

“I’m coming up to check!” she called.

“Hide it!” Catherine squealed.

Jet went back to the closet, dropped the skull into the box and slammed the door shut. The knob of the guest room jiggled until it turned. Jet reached his hand out for Catherine, and she grabbed it. The bedroom door widened, and the bed and breakfast owner entered the room. The color of her bathrobe was now purple.

“Is everyone alright in here? I heard screaming.”

Before Jet could answer, Catherine announced, “I tripped on the carpet! It was an accident.”

Her cheeks changed from pale to pink. “Should I get the first aid kit?” Miss Winifred asked.

“No,” answered Caty, “I’m fine. There’s not a scratch on me.” She could feel her own heart race and head pound. The last thing she wanted was for Miss Winifred to find out about their little discovery, and Catherine was praying that the old lady couldn’t read minds.

“Hmm. If you say so, then I’ll leave you two be. Have a nice night, and I’ll see you in the morning. I’m making blueberry and strawberry pancakes for you. Children need fruit in their healthy bodies after all.” Then, she left, slowly closing the door.

Jet waited a few seconds, and once he didn’t hear Miss Winifred’s footsteps, he pulled Catherine from the floor and said, “She’s setting us up for a murder,” panicked.

“What are we going to do?” Caty cried. “She’s going to kill us. Who knows when she’ll do it? When we’re asleep?”

“Nah. If she’s telling the truth about those pancakes, that’s too much work to kill us overnight. She wants to do it when we’re distracted. Still, we’ll be on our toes tonight. We’ll be prepared tomorrow.”

“How?”

“Lean in, and I’ll explain.”

****

By the time morning came, Jet and Catherine had their plan set for whatever laid in the kitchen/dining room for them. They’ve slept in their day clothes, but they left the guest room with a couple of extra items. Jet fixed Caty’s belt, which kept nail scissors that they found in the closet along with Miss Winifred’s makeup supplies and collection of skeleton parts. She couldn’t stop shaking like a leaf as she knew of the homeowner’s dirty, little secret.

“Catherine, the scissors were the only thing I could find in order to protect ourselves. If she attacks me, you go in for the blow.”

“I’ve never fought anyone before, Jet. I’m scared.”

He gently placed his hand on top of her head. “If you want to know a secret,” he replied, “I am, too.”

“Really?”

“Do you seriously think I’ve been in a psycho murderer’s house before? I’m terrified, but the number one rule of murder is that you can’t let the perp know that you’re afraid. That gives them more power than they need. When we go down to that kitchen, I want you to pretend that we know nothing about that closet. That will give her an early chance to kill us. Understand?”

Catherine nodded slowly. “Yes.”

Jet took her hand, and they left the room. There footsteps were steadily paced as they walked down the stairs and turned into the kitchen, where Miss Winifred was cooking the pancakes she promised. She was in more presentable clothes, a gray dress at that, with an apron covering the front of her body as she cooked. He whispered, “Let me do the talking this time,” to the level where the homeowner couldn’t hear him. Jet cleared his throat and said, “Morning, Miss Winifred.”

She turned her head with a wide smile. “Good morning, dears. Did you get a good night’s rest last night?”

“Indeed we did. Thank you for asking. We are ready for your pancakes now.”

“Oh, I just finished them.” The old lady flipped the pancakes onto the two plates and placed those serving tools onto the black table. “Come sit and eat. You two must be hungry.”

Catherine didn’t want to move, but Jet pulled her wrist to the table and sat her down in one of the old chairs. He took the one next to her. Once he gave her the look, they began to eat. “Pretty good pancakes,” the both of them said at the same time.

“Oh, I’m glad you enjoy them. These are the kids favorite treats,” replied Miss Winifred, approaching the teenagers’ backs.

“What do the adults eat?” Jet questioned.

“Oh, does it matter? You wouldn’t be interested.” She stopped in between the both of them and watched over their plates. “Call me nosy, but have you two decided on your next venture?”

Jet swallowed a pancake piece. “Well, Miss Winifred. You have been so nice to us last night. I don’t think it would be fair to just leave after eating your delicious food. If we could stay one more night, Miss Winifred, would you let us?”

“Oh, I already told you kids. If you wanted to stay here for a long time, I would let you. You could even stay forever.”

Catherine’s eyes widened. “Uh uh oh,” she stammered, “That wuh would be…gracious of you, Miss Winifred, but we shouldn’t do that to a kind, sweet, old lady such as yourself.”

She scoffed. “Nonsense. I love children. It was a shame that I couldn’t have any of my own. That’s why I started this bed and breakfast. Children would need a home to stay in, so I gave it to them. Every time they left, it broke my heart.”

Jet raised his eyebrow. It was coming. His eyes pierced through Catherine’s. Her fingers tapped against her belt with her pointer finger reaching for the nail scissors.

“I made a promise to myself that the next time a child entered this bed and breakfast, that he or she was going to be mine. If he or she refused, well…I only make offers that they can’t refuse.” Miss Winifred’s hand slipped into the apron pocket, and she heavily sighed. “So I’m just going to ask again if you would please stay and let me take care of you. You said that your parents were doing their jobs correctly. I can fix all that…Please stay, children.”

Jet swallowed another piece of pancake and smirked. “I feel sorry for you, Miss Winifred. Honestly, I do…but for the both of us, I’m afraid I’m still declining.”

There was a pregnant pause between the three of them. Miss Winifred was trying not to smile, but she started to laugh instead. The laugh started deep, and as it continued, it got louder and more high-pitched. “I feel sorry for you, too. Wrong choices lead to horrible endings.”

Catherine spotted the weapon, which was one of her kitchen knives, being removed from the apron pocket from the corner of her eye. When it was completely out, she slipped the scissors from behind her belt and screamed, “Don’t touch him!” One stab at the side was all it took for Miss Winifred to back away from the table.

The woman gripped her side. Blood was seeping out like a river. It dripped onto the tile floor, staining it like paint on a canvas. “You ungrateful, little bitch!” she hissed, pulling out the scissors, which were also coated in blood. Her hands burned in the warm liquid, and the heat worsened as she clenched them together. “You will pay for that!”

“Then, here’s the check!” Jet stood up from the chair and roundhouse-kicked the murderer in right knee.

Down with a thud she went, smashing her head onto the tile floor. A scratch appeared from her nose to her left eye. Blood dripped like raindrops. “You brats! You were never taught manners!”

“I only respect people who don’t try to kill me,” Jet snarled.

Miss Winifred licked her teeth, especially her two fang-like ones, and they are coated in red. “I’ll make you into my stew!”

“Sounds delicious. I know the perfect ingredients for that. Catherine, help me out!”

The two teens planted the old lady onto the floor and started rolling her with their shoes towards the oven. The homeowner let out a high-pitched and howling scream as Jet reached for the oven’s door. Catherine pressed the cooking button above the opening, and she and Jet pushed the bleeding witch into the burning kitchen piece. Jet quickly closed the door and locked it shut. There was banging on the window for a good moment, but it stopped when the last smack caused the old lady’s hand to melt. Catherine’s knees were about to give out at the sight of splattered skin, but Jet stretched his arm around her waist and caught her before she fainted. As much as they wanted to run out of the house, they couldn’t stop watching the oven’s show. When the cooking was finished, the door automatically dropped. Smoke flowed out of it like the morning fog, forcing the teens to cough. Jet waved the smoke from his and Catherine’s sights. All that was left in the oven was dripping blood, burnt skin and clothes, and melted jewelry that dropped onto the white, but stained, tile kitchen floor.

Catherine deeply breathed into Jet’s jacket, trying to say, “Is it over, Jet? Is it over?”

Also breathing heavily, he nodded. “Yeah, Cate…It’s over.”

She gripped onto his arm and whimpered, “I wanna go home now.”

There was no time to come up with an argument. Jet nodded once again and said, “Caty…”

“What?”

“Let’s go to your house first. Your parents must be worried sick.”

“What about you?” she questioned, pulling Jet off the floor.

“My parents won’t even believe it until it appears on the news. They’ll just think it’s another day in the life of Jet. Now, come on. Let’s take you home.”

It was decided. As soon as the teens reached Catherine’s house, no one was home, so Jet had to pick the lock to get Caty into the building. Even when her parents returned, no one dared to speak of the Bed & Breakfast on Narrow Drive…ever.