Page 41 of Enzo
A small whirlwindbarged into my room as if she owned the place. An armful of books pressed to her chest, messy blonde hair escaping from beneath a kid-sized Redcars cap, this was obviously Cassidy. Enzo had said she would be visiting today, and I’d hidden in my room like an idiot.
Who the hell was scared of a six-year-old?
She was wearing a tiny replica of the Redcars overalls, and the confidence she radiated was borderline terrifying.
“Hi! I’m Cassidy. I’m six.” She beamed then plopped herself right on the edge of my bed.
I stiffened. Froze. My heart pounded. What now?
“I’m Robbie,” I managed.
“I know. Daddy said so. You’re Robbie the Reader and you like books! So, I did bring you some.” She grinned and handed me a stack of three.
I looked down. One was a brightly illustrated children’s book calledMilo the Cat and the Happy Moon. The other two were battered paperbacks of old spy thrillers, the kind with silhouettes of men holding guns and dramatic titles.
“I like this one,” she said, tapping the kids’ book. “You wanna read it?”
“Now?” I asked, cautious.
“Yeah!”
So I opened it up. Page one. Tried to read like I wasn’t nervous, like my voice didn’t wobble.
She stopped me every so often.
“That’s not the right voice. Milo’s a cat, not a pirate.”
I corrected myself.
“Nope. The moon sounds too happy. It’s a spooky moon.”
I tried again. And again. And after a while, she let me keep going without comment, leaning into my side and swinging her little legs. When we were done, she made me read it a second time—I think it was a test to see if I’d get the words right.
After the second read through, she pulled a stuffed blue dinosaur from her Dora backpack and held it up. “This is Blue. Say hi.”
“Hi, Blue,” I said.
She gave me a big, satisfied nod and poked the toy at my face as if he was nuzzling me. “He likes you.” I loved the feel of the soft fur, of her gentle touch when she guided my reading, the innocent smile she threw me.
Somehow, I wasn’t shaking anymore, and when Logan came to get her, I didn’t want her to leave. She was good, and bright, and fun, and she made me feel lighter.
“Bye, Robbie the Reader,” she said, and gave me a hug, which I returned.
“Bye, Miss Cassidy Book-Bringer.”
I didn’t realize I was grinning until Logan smiled at me as she skipped out of the room.
“Okay?” he asked. I wish people didn’t ask that all the time, but then, why wouldn’t they.
“Cassidy is lovely,” I murmured, and I’d said the right thing if his broadening grin was anything to go by. I felt happy and at peace.
The nightmare came back.It always did.
I’d barely drifted off to sleep with memories of Milo and his moon, and Cassidy’s happiness, when the darkness swallowed me whole, slammed into me like a fist to the chest, dragging me down before I had the chance to fight. My lungs forgot how to work, my body going rigid with remembered terror. Cold sweat burst across my skin, my fingers curling into the sheets as if they could anchor me to now. But they couldn’t. Not when three distinct voices echoed through my head.
“Look at the twink.” John.
“We can break him!” Gruff voice, tall, dark hair skinny, old.
