The Birthday Dress

     The heat was oppressive, not in the way she’d long ago accepted most southern summers were, but in a way that made her feel like she was caught in a Hitchcock movie. Cleaning the last of the blood off her boning knife from tonight’s meal, the last meal of the summer, it was finally time for Lola to close-up. She wiped the knife down with the edge of her pink apron and walked out into the night air. It felt like God breathing into her lungs after nine hours spent trapped without an air conditioner.

          This time of day had become her escape: walking the ever-darkening pathways between the cabins and looming woods, watching the sky become speckled like a beautiful disaster as it turned deep bruise purple and blue. Few cabins were filled this year; Lola had come to realize that people no longer came here for fun, but to escape every ghost they couldn’t detach from their regular lives.

          Not many people were ever around at dusk, most were at the rec hall or attempting to deepen themselves by writing in journals in their rooms. A few hundred feet in front of her on the path were Sylvia and Micah, they were here to try to save their marriage after losing a child. Lola knew everyone’s stories; everyone trusted the maternal bright-eyed chef in the pink apron with hair constantly frizzy from the humidity.

          Something caught her eye in one of the empty cabins as she walked by, a flash of red. Lola stopped and turned to look in the window, but it was empty. She ran up the path to Sylvia and Micah.

          “Hey!” Lola walked next to them wrapping and unwrapping her apron strings around her fingers, “hey do you guys know if anyone brought a child with them?”

          Sylvia’s eyes widened in pain, “Why would you ask us that?”

          “No, no, there’re no kids here that we’ve seen,” Micah said, “Why?”

          “Oh, no reason,” Lola turned, heading back down the path still fidgeting with the apron.

          “Lola! Are you okay?” Micah yelled after her.

          “Yeah, I’ll see you guys.” She went back and looked in the window of the empty cabin again, but it was still uninhabited, except for the spiders crawling across the floor. It must have been the reflection of the sun playing with her imagination.

She turned back down the trail and was almost to the next cabin when she heard the voice of a young girl, “Lola!” she spun and saw the owner of the voice playing at the edge of the woods, perfect brown curls and a bright red dress “Come play with me.”

“Who’re you here with?” Lola knelt by her.

The girl looked at her wide-eyed, confused, “You, silly. See, I’m here, and you’re here.”

“You are here,” Lola whispered.

The girl in the red dress giggled, “You’re silly. Come on, come play with me. Come on! You play with me every year, remember?”

“You know what, I have a box of toys we can play with back home. Let’s go play with those; you love those toys, remember?” the girl nodded. “But first, we need to get your sister. Do you know where she went?”

Sophia giggled, “she’s playing hide and seek, she’s in that cabin over there.” She pointed to one of the empty cabins, and Lola opened the door to see a head of blond hair folded over a red dress that matched Sophia’s perfectly. Soft snores came from her little figure.

Lola picked her up and took Sophia’s hand, “your sister’s asleep already. Let’s get you home so you can do the same, sweetie.”

Sophia fell asleep quickly on their drive home. Lola talked to her sleeping form in the mirror, “I’ve missed you so much, Sophia. I hope you can forgive me one day.”

Sophia loved her toys almost as much as Lola remembered, and that night, Lola tucked her into bed, and stroked hair away from her face, “You’ve always had such beautiful hair.”

 She was in the living room watching tv the next morning when a knock on the door interrupted.

“Yes officer, can I help you?”

“Mrs. Winslow?”

“Ms., actually, I’m a widow.”

“Yes, of course, my apologies; so sorry for your loss, ma’am.” Lola smiled, waving away his apology, “we were told you were employed at Blue Velvet Summer Camp for Adults, is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“We have an APB out for a missing child who lived near the campgrounds.” He pulled out a picture of a girl with perfect brown ringlets, “Her name’s Olivia Bibury. Her parents said she often played in the woods between her house and the camp. We believe someone at the camp may have taken her this morning. Since it happened exactly a year after the Cassie Hannagin case and in the same area, we need to question everybody who was there both summers. Did you see anything?”

“No, sir, yesterday was actually my last day for the season,” she paused for a moment, “I hate to say this, but Sylvia and Micah Fisk have been desperate to have another kid ever since theirs died. I’m sure they wouldn’t do anything to harm her, they’re so kind, but they’ve been so desperate.”

“Thank you, miss. Have a good evening, and please call us if you hear anything.”

“Of course, Officer.” As she shut the door, Lola heard soft feet padding up behind her.

“Was that my mommy?” a small voice asked softly.

“No, honey, I’m your mommy now, let’s go back to bed, okay? We’ve got a big day later,” Lola said in a soft voice, kneeling to kiss a head of perfect coffee curls, and adjust the now sleep-rumpled red dress. She smiled sweetly when Olivia looked up at her with confusion in her young eyes, “after all, Sophia, it’s your birthday. Now, go wake up your new sister. Did you know that you guys share a birthday?”

She turned and started going downstairs to wake her new sister: curls and wrinkled red fabric bouncing down into the darkness.