She saw the child flailing in the water as a man watched, motionless, from a boat nearby. The horrible scene and urgent pleas of the small boy grew faint, fading into light. Jill’s eyes opened. Confused at first, she stared into the circling blur that became the blades of the ceiling fan of her bedroom. She felt—no, she knew—that something had changed. Something was different now. Hadn’t she heard a child crying—wasn’t that what had awakened her—what would a child be doing in her home? She attempted to raise up in the bed, but the drug Candy had put into the glass of water earlier fought against her, keeping her immobile. Jill used all of her strength, lifting her head from her pillow to look around. She saw that she wasn’t alone in the room. Oddie stood nearby, staring into the mirror of her dresser as if he were looking into another world. As he held the wooden orb with a blank look on his face and drool running down his chin, she realized the change that had taken place. It was over—she was finally free. The little wooden devil in Oddie’s hand that had controlled her for so long had attached itself to him.
A year ago, she’d taken the orb from Aimwell, and ever since, her life, dreams, thoughts, and emotions had been influenced by the ball’s force. She had never stolen anything in her entire life until that day out doing research at the old farm for her latest book on haunted houses in Louisiana. She had spotted the orb sitting high up on a shelf while she waited in the den for the home’s owner, an older woman, who had gone into the kitchen to make tea for their visit. She hadn’t realized it then, when she’d sequestered the orb into her purse, that the little wooden menace had actually chosen her.
Taking the orb had been the worst mistake of her life. It controlled her dreams, her thoughts, and even sometimes her actions, causing her to do things she would not have otherwise done. Like the night at the writer’s conference when she’d ruined her career. She’d watched herself on the video that Carrie had shown her. She didn’t even look like herself and she couldn’t remember a thing about it. Alcohol had never done her that way, but she hadn’t known what else to blame.
When she had realized it was the orb, she’d attempted to throw the ball away countless times, and she’d even tried to destroy it. But the ball reappeared, back in its spot on her dresser. She couldn’t get away from the little ball. Even when she made trips, like her trip into Nashville, it would be waiting for her in the trunk of her car. It had followed her everywhere she went. But now it was over. She was free. Clean again. Good for Oddie, she thought. “Tag, you’re it.” As the effect of the drug overwhelmed her once again, and Jill closed her eyes, her lips parted into a smile.
Oddie impatiently jabbed the button on the home’s thermostat, turning the heat all the way up. He just couldn’t shake the chill that had settled into his body. He paced up and down the hall to get his blood flowing, only stopping when he noticed a room that he had apparently overlooked while rummaging through the home earlier. He entered the small room. It was warmer than the rest of the large house and looked to be some sort of office. Plaques and framed photos covered the walls. He easily picked out the home’s owner in each of the photos taken at different periods of her life. She looked happy, content with her world. Well, it was his world now.
He walked around the small space and saw her name in bold lettering on several books setting on the shelves. “So, you really are a fancy schmancy author, Ms. Turner.” Oddie pulled out a book and flipped through the pages, dropping it to the floor nonchalantly. He moved over to several bronze plaques that recognized Jill’s work at homeless shelters and food pantries. He remembered being left by his father and fending for himself as a boy. He’d walk into town, visiting the soup kitchens. It made him feel like a beggar. All the smiling faces and talk about Jesus. He listened. Nobody was really that nice.
Looking at the photos a moment longer, he felt a tinge of regret. He really hated having to get rid of the other three. After all, Candy was family. But the small voice in his head reminded him of Candy’s betrayal. And that he left his fingerprints everywhere. Soon the house would be a crime scene, full of detectives and yellow tape. He patted himself on the back. He should have listened to his little voice years ago. “Looks like we’re gonna have a fire.” Oddie chuckled and another shiver coursed over his body. As bad as he hated to do it, he knew a sure-fire way to warm up.
In the shower, Oddie let the steaming water wash over him. He remembered the day he’d been thrown into the icy cold water and the week it had taken to warm up afterwards. But nobody would be throwing him into any more rivers. And with the two sacks of cash and drugs, he was his own man now. He stepped out of the shower, and while drying with a towel, he stopped. Sitting on the vanity in the bathroom was the wooden ball that he clearly remembered sitting back on the stand. “What the hay-el?”
