Going Twice

“Hi!” she said. “I’m having breakfast.”

He frowned and kept walking, hoping his silence would deter her. It didn’t.

“My name is Louise. What’s yours?”

He stumbled. What the hell? Was this the universe making fun of him, or was this his Louise trying to communicate?

He turned around and gave her a closer look. She couldn’t have been more than six or seven years old and didn’t look a thing like his Louise. The moment he thought it, he told himself he was a fool. Of course she didn’t look like Louise, because she wasn’t Louise.

The little girl took another bite of the sweet roll she was eating, then licked her fingers as she waited for him to talk. When he didn’t, she offered up another question.

“What happened to your face?” she asked.

“Go away,” he said shortly, and moved toward his truck.

She got down off the picnic table and followed him, still eating and licking her fingers between bites.

“Does your face hurt? I fell off my bike and skinned my knee. It hurt a lot. Did your mama kiss your face and make it better? My mama kissed my knee and put three Cinderella Band-Aids on it.”

“Get lost, kid,” Hershel muttered, and began unhooking his generator. He needed to get the hell out of here.

The little girl frowned. “Getting lost is dangerous. I’m not supposed to get lost,” she said, and took another bite, chewing while she talked. “You said a mean thing. You shouldn’t be mean to people. It’s not nice. Do you go to church? You should go to church. It might make you nicer.”

Hershel froze. For just a moment he could hear his Louise nagging him, talking about God and changing his ways. He looked back at the kid again, wondered if Louise had somehow sent her, and then shook off the thought.

“Go back to your own campground,” Hershel said, and turned his back on her.

“I’m gonna tell my mama on you! I’m gonna tell her you told me to get lost.”

Hershel spun around, but she was already running back across the campground.

“Damn it.”

He wasn’t into offing kids, but this complicated his situation. This little altercation could bring unwanted attention, which he didn’t need. It was time to leave.

He began loading up the heavier pieces of his camping equipment, and then packed up what was inside the tent. As soon as it was empty, he took it down, as well, working with one eye on the campsites behind him, hoping he didn’t see some irate parent coming his way. Still, it verified what he’d been thinking all along. No more public campgrounds for him.

It’s your own fault.

Hershel groaned. Now Louise decided to show up. If she’d spoken up earlier, he wouldn’t have been so antsy with the kid.

“Well, hell, Louise, of course it’s my fault. You continue to remind me that everything is my fault, including your demise.”

Leave now, Hershel. Stop now and go to Mexico. We talked about it once. You can go there now and disappear.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. I’ll go when I’m ready and not before.”

You are a mean man, Hershel Inman, and you are going straight to Hell.

“Yes, so your little doppelgänger said a few minutes ago...or words to that effect. Now beat it. I need to finish packing.”

You’re going to be sorry...be sorry...be sorry...

Hershel was livid. Louise’s nagging was so off the wall she was beginning to echo. He threw the rest of his things into the truck and took off from the campground without looking back.

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