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- Herausgeber: Wildside Press
- Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
- Sprache: Englisch
Nothing could be more routine than shopping with her twelve year old son, but when Beverly drives into their neighborhood, things are subtly and disturbingly different. There's a strange political bumper sticker on their car, too, and an odd, unstable feeling in the air. Could she have taken the Wrong Door out of the mall?
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Seitenzahl: 24
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
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Table of Contents
COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
WRONG DOOR, by Janice Law
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
Copyright © 2024 by Janice Law.
Original publication by Wildside Press, LLC.
wildsidepress.com | bcmystery.com
WRONG DOOR,by Janice Law
Beverly inhaled deeply. It was a warm, drizzly day, smell of mold in the air, damp clothes drying, wet drives and lawns. A good day to take Doug to the mall for some errands. He’d need new pants for school and maybe shoes, too. She’d stop by the bookstore while they were out and check the new paperbacks. She liked flashy romances set in interesting places—Rome, or Paris or her special favorite, Buenos Aires, which always sounded so exotic and exciting.
“Are you ready?” she called upstairs. “I need to be back in time to fix your Dad’s dinner.” Adam often worked late at the insurance company. When he arrived home at six or so, he always wanted to eat right away so that he could finish his paperwork and still have a little time to himself in the evening. “Did you hear me?” she called.
Her son was dawdling, although he loved shopping and had been teasing to go, to do something, to get out of the house.
“I’m coming!” Louder than he needed to shout, an edge of irritation in his voice. At eleven, Doug was about to start seventh grade, about, Bev feared, to precipitate surly moods and stormy weather from a sweet childhood disposition. She stood impatiently with her hand on the doorknob, listening. The CD played on loudly behind the clatter of his feet on the stair.
“Put off the CD player,” she said.
He looked set to argue.
“If you want to go. I don’t need to go to the mall, you know.”
He ran noisily back upstairs. Heavy bass and a shrill guitar roared under the hoarse voice and angry lyrics before an abrupt silence revealed dripping trees and a child’s bike rolling over the walk.
“I want to go to the hobby shop,” Doug said when he came downstairs. “I need a new Enterprise.”
“And have you any money for it?”
“From the paper route,” he said, smiling. His volatile moods changed as fast as a tv channel.
“You need school clothes,” she said. “New pants.”
“Jeans,” he said. “I want some of those baggy ones.”
“I remember when people only wore jeans to feed cows,” Bev said, and Doug made a face.
“I really need them. All mine are high waters.” He pointed to the legs of his pants, which were certainly hovering well north of his ankles.
“Good thing on a day like this,” Bev said, stepping around a pool of water in the drive.
