Stretching across me, Dollie reaches into her coat pocket, struggling with the zipper. The water seeping in makes it appear difficult for her to grab anything.
“I got them.” Her clenched hand hovers over mine, and she drops my two missing teeth into my palm.
“Mommy says the Tooth Fairy grants wishes for special people. That’s how I got Duggan. Maybe the Fairy will grant you two wishes because you have two teeth.”
I close my fist around the teeth in my hand, holding them tight until they indent my skin. And I make my wish, closing my eyes as if praying.
When I open them again, I see Dollie, still sitting in the dirty water at my side, with tears streaming down her face. They create tiny splashes as they fall. She’s unmoving, her expression heavy with fear—her color drains.
“What is it?” I ask, concern overpowering anger.
She refuses to answer.
“Dollie!” I whisper shout. “What is it?”
“There’s something in the water.”
Yeah, mud and mold and fucking germs. Thinking of that, I’m quick to my feet.
I wrap my fingers around Dollie’s shoulder, but she doesn’t move.
“It’s coming closer.”
At first, she barely whispers, the tone cold and quiet, bringing goosebumps to my arms as I search the room, wondering what she can see.
“What is? I don’t see anything.”
“It’s coming closer!” she shrieks, jumping from the water.
Using the drawers for assistance, she scales the dresser.
“Quick! Quick! Crocodile! It’s so close to you!”
Fear drags me forward, thinking she could be right. I lose my sense of all thought except for getting out of the water, and I drop my teeth while taking a big jump that puts me on the dresser.
I gaze back out at the water. It’s black enough for something to hide, but Dollie’s senseless screaming makes me think she can see something out there moving closer, trapping us. But the water is still as I stare out. The dresser isn’t. It shakes as she pushes herself back against the stone wall.
“Dollie, there’s nothing there.”
“It’s got blood on its teeth, and they’re big and scary!” Her words are hectic, almost too fast to understand.
“There’s nothing down there.” My eyes stay on the very still water.
“It’s eaten people. It got Duggan. It told me. It told me it got Duggan.”
“No. Duggan is fine. He doesn’t bleed, remember? Like that time, his arm tore at home, and Mom stitched it with the old sewing machine. He didn’t bleed. Nothing got him. He isn’t down here. He’s at home with Mom and Dad.”
“What if it got them, too!”
Tears stream from Dollie’s eyes, turning the whites pink. The cries wrack her body, and her wailing echoes.
Pounding footsteps echo around her, causing something inside me to run cold. My hands shake as I pull her in, shushing her.
“It didn’t get any of them.” I hold her close, trying to soothe her anxiety so she’ll shut up, and I try to mask the desperation in my voice as I ask, “Please stop crying. Please be quiet. I promise they’re all safe.”
The door creaks open, and light floods in again, confirming my thoughts that there is no crocodile and Dollie’s own imagination is what’s scared her.
Still, she cries against me.
