It takes more than two hours to cut them all down.
I went back to the house and brought two large garbage bags to haul them away, but the first thing I put in a bag is the music box. I then use the stick dolls to bury it. I don’t know what’s coming, but I don’t want any evidence that I might have to explain later. Murphy’s bored, and lies down in the clearing to chew on his tennis ball. Most of the stick dolls were within reach from the ground, but there are a few I have to climb a couple of branches to reach. Twice, I think I’m done, only to glance up and see another one slowly twisting overhead. I cut the last one down and scan the trees one more time, verifying that yes, that’s the last of them.
I carry the bags back to the cottage. I’m about to empty the first bag into the fire pit when my phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Mr Reese?”
“Yes?”
“It’s Kyle McGuire with Envo Exterminators. Got some updates for you.”
“Okay.”
“We’re almost done, but there’s something I need to show you.”
“What is it?”
“Something I’ve never encountered before, and you won’t believe me unless you see it for yourself.”
*
I store the bags of stick dolls in the cottage. I’ll take care of them later.
Murphy and I hop into the truck, and head towards town.
We drive down Main Street and past the shop. The blinds are still drawn. There are a few people reading the sign on the front door, informing them we’re closed and apologizing for the inconvenience. At the next intersection, I take a left, turn into the alley, and then take another left into the lot behind the shop. I park next to the big, white, unmarked Envo van. The back door to the shop is open, and one of the crew, I think it’s Chuck, walks out, heading for the van.
“Hey, Mr Reese. Kyle’s inside.”
“Thanks.” I open the truck door for Murphy, and he jumps down to the pavement. “Is it safe for the dog?”
“Yep.”
I take Murphy inside and find Kyle standing in the restaurant, holding a clipboard. The air has an acrid smell but no one is wearing a mask. He turns at the sound of the swinging door and Murphy’s panting as we enter.
“Afternoon, Mr Reese.”
“Hi.”
“We’re finishing up here. Just doing a few last sweeps. You’ll want to do another one tonight, in case any of them stagger out of their hiding places to die. Also, you’ll need to stay closed for at least three more days.”
There goes the Halloween business. My biggest hope now is that I can keep the real reason for staying closed under wraps from the town.
“What is it you wanted to show me?”
“Yeah.” He puts the clipboard down on a table. “From the start, this whole thing seemed off. Like you said, you’ve had all ‘A’s on your inspections and you said you never saw a roach in this place.”
“I haven’t.”
“And I believe you.”
“Good,” was all I could think to say.
“I mean, the place is clean—immaculate, really. So, that didn’t add up. Now, as part of our routine, we look for concentration points. That’s where we think the roaches might be coming from—the drains, the food storage areas, under the fridges, stuff like that. It’s going to be near their food source, which means it’s almost always in the kitchen. We checked everywhere, and there is nothing. It was like they all were in the dining room, and not in the back where the food is. It’s one of the damnedest things I ever saw. Then, I remembered you saying that you were sitting in that booth over there when you first saw them. So, we popped off the cushions of the seat, and we found something.”
He leads me over to the corner booth. By this time, the entire crew has gathered around and follows us.
The interior of the booth comes into view. Sitting on the table is a squat, cardboard box. There’s a small square that’s been cut into the side, near the bottom, and there’s a plastic valve fitted into the hole to close it off. Mounted to the box, next to the valve, is another piece of plastic, which is connected to what looks like a small nickel battery.
“What the hell is that?” I ask.
“Took me a while to figure it out, myself,” Kyle says, leaning in closer to the valve, “but this is kind of like a trapdoor. This here,” he says, pointing to the bit of plastic above the battery, “is a receiver. You can get them at any electronics store. Once it gets a signal, it opens the door,” he says, flipping the valve, which creates an opening to the box. The clicking sound it makes is the clicking sound I had mistaken for the clicking of Helen Trifauni’s pen. “That allows whatever’s inside to get out, and what we found inside is what’s really crazy.” He lifts the flaps on the top of the box, and reaches in. He lifts out a smaller, white cardboard box. One end has been cut away. Inside, I can barely make out what looks like egg packaging. As Kyle lifts it out and sets it on top of the larger cardboard box, a few dead roaches fall out onto the table.
I glance back and forth in confusion from the box to Kyle.
“I … I don’t understand.”
He turns the white box over to show me a red stamp that reads, “LIVE DELIVERY”. There is a postage label that has been obscured by thick, black lines of marker.
“People order live cockroaches online for a number of reasons,” Kyle says. “Most times, it’s to feed a pet lizard or snake. Some schools order them for science classes. Point is, anyone can get them. This right here,” he says, indicating the two boxes, “is a sort of ‘cockroach bomb’. They let the cockroaches loose in the bigger box and then opened the valve with a phone to let them out in your restaurant.”
“Wait,” I say, shaking my head. “You’re saying that someone put them here, under the seat in this booth?”
“Not just this booth. We found one of these under the seat of every booth in here,” he says with a sweep of his hand around the dining room. “We destroyed the other ones, but I wanted to keep this one, because I didn’t think you’d believe me without proof.”
I believe him. I believe every word, but can’t tell him why, because he won’t believe me.
“Do you have any cameras in this place?” he asks.
“No. I don’t even have an alarm.”
He blinks. “Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, it’s The Hollows. I didn’t think I would ever …”
I feel stupid, but it’s true. Crime is non-existent in this town. All I had was a simple lock and no cameras. What would anyone steal? Come to think of it, how did they get inside?
He shrugs. “Well, we’ve taken care of it. You may find a dead roach now and again for a few days, but other than that, you’re good to go.”
“That’s it?” I ask.
“That’s it.” He takes a look around the shop. “I don’t know how else to say it, Mr Reese, but it looks like, and please excuse my French, but it looks like someone is fucking with you.”
“No shit.”
*
I go home and sit in the living room chair by the window. I stare out and watch the cottage and the woods for hours. I don’t answer my phone. I only get up to feed Murphy and take him outside to do his business. Once he’s done, we go back inside and I resume my post.