Tag Archives: Maisie Mouse

Duck, Duck, Dead Duck; chapter fourteen, part two

I dismissed the thoughts as I pulled on my head.  I was ninety percent certain that Shannon was the culprit which meant I could relax.  No one would be trying to off me today.  I could walk freely among the children and not worry about anything more than getting food on my outfit.  The darlings tended to have their hands full when they wanted to hug me and would through their arms around me ad nauseam without thinking to pass along their booty to their beaming parents first.  Consequently, at the end of the day, I became a walking billboard for the park’s menu.  I usually ended up smelling like I’d been dipped in a vat of hot oil, and it wasn’t pleasant.  However, I was so ecstatic not to be the target of someone’s venom, I didn’t mind the thought of all those spoiled children ruining my day.  Much.

I got up and reluctantly left the sanctuary of the green room.  Hundreds of screaming brats greeted my ears.  Even though they were muffled by the giant head I was wearing, I could still hear more than I wanted.  I would like to wear earplugs as I worked, but I couldn’t risk missing a request from one of the kids while I was off in my own world.  I had tried it once when I first started working, and Eddie had caught me at it.  He reamed me out but good and threatened to fire me if I ever did it again.  At that time, I valued my job too much to do anything that smacked of insurrection.  Now, however, I couldn’t care less; I’d have to think about bringing my earplugs tomorrow.

“Mommy!  It’s Maisie.  She’s back!”  A towheaded boy with his front teeth missing raced towards me, cotton candy in one hand, a hot dog in the other.  He flung his arms around me, nearly knocking me backwards.  He was pretty strong for a small fry, and I had to dig in my heels so I wouldn’t fall over.  “I missed you, Maisie!  Do you remember me?  It’s Ryan Wheeler.  I came here five times last year.”  He let go of his death grip but kept his hands on me.

“Ryan Wheeler,” I said in my high, rodent-like voice.  “Of course I remember you.  How could I forget?”  The little tyke was smearing blue raspberry cotton candy down the front of my costume with one hand while patting me on the back with the other—most likely spreading mustard while he was at it.

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Duck, Duck, Dead Duck; chapter two, part two

“Rather strange coincidence, isn’t it?”  Antoinette interjected, cutting her eyes to me.  “The day you two switch costumes, Lydia is murdered.”  Although she was purportedly speaking only to me, her voice carries clearly across the crowd.  I flushed, but didn’t answer.  I figured it was better to save my words for the police than to waste them trying to defend myself.

“What the hell is going on here,” Eddie asked, huffing and puffing.  “What is Trixie doing lying on the ground like that?  Get up, girl.  It’s bad for business.”  Even though I was only a few yards away, Eddie didn’t bother to look my way.  He nudged Lydia’s body with his toe, drawing gasps from the crowd.  “What are you drunk?  I swear to God, Trixie, if you’re playing some kind of trick on me.”

“Eddie, that’s Lydia, and she’s dead,” Antoinette said in hushed tones.  It’s unbelievable to me that Eddie didn’t see the bullet wounds, but he’s not the most observant guy in the world.  “That’s Bea.”  She pointed to me.  It took a minute for it to register with Eddie what Antoinette had said.  When it did, he turned to me, a look of dismay on his face.

“Didn’t I tell you girls not to switch costumes?  Didn’t I, huh?  What did Eddie tell you the first day of work?  No switching costumes.”  Uh oh.  When Eddie started talking about himself in the third person, it meant he was losing his temper.  Granted, it’s a short way to go, but still, I didn’t need the aggravation.  Besides, the man needed to get his priorities straight.  Lydia and me switching costumes was the least of his worries.

“Eddie, Lydia’s dead.”  My voice was fierce as I tried to stem the litany I knew was forthcoming.  “This isn’t the time to worry about costume switches.  Did someone call the police?”

“I did,” Tommy said, flashing his cell phone in his hand.  “They should be here any minute.”

“Police?”  Eddie bellowed, turning white.  “What do we need the police for?”  No one was this stupid—no one.  It seemed as if our Eddie was, though.  Disbelieving looks passed between the members of the crowd.  “Let’s let our security take care of it.  Most of them are cops moonlighting, anyway.”

“It’s not that easy,” I said impatiently, not wanting to deal with this moron.  I was distracted by what he had said, however.  Where was security?  I didn’t see any.  In the distance, there was the sound of sirens roaring.

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