The Dandelion Killer — Wanda Luttrell

Jayboy Calvin watched the fog rising from the luminous green surface of the river. It swirled and thickened, reaching greedy fingers toward the bank where he stood. And within the fog was the blackness. He knew it was out there. Waiting. as it had waited for him for over fifty years. He shivered and turned toward the small brick cottage behind him, comforted by the warm glow that fell from the upstairs window onto the lawn below.'Layna would want him to mow one more time. She hated stubble sticking up through the snow. Even if it was just the stems of a few late-blooming dandelions. "I won't do it!" he vowed. The rebellious thought trembled in his mind. Then he jerked around to face the river. The blackness was out there tonight. He could feel it. Hidden in the fog. Tugging at its restraints. Eager for the time when it would be turned loose to seep into the moonless, starless night. to slip inside him. to fill all his empty spaces with its evil darkness. Elayna Evans proofed the last paragraph of the catalog paste-up spread across her desk, pushed back her chair, and walked over to the window. Pulling aside the heavy curtain, she noticed that the fog had crept up from the river while she worked. A perfect night for hauntings, she thought, if she had believed in such things. But then there was more than one kind of haunting. Despite the mist, squares of light spilled through the small panes onto the back patio and surrounding lawn. A few unseasonal dandelions were blooming and the lawn would need mowing at least one more time before winter. She knew Jayboy would resist mowing until the yellow blossoms turned to white seed and scattered everywhere. Sometimes she wished she were more like Jayboy, a perpetual member of the "Dandelion Kingdom" they had created as children-a kingdom of eternal youth where dandelions always bloomed and time stood still. Time does not stand still, Jay, she thought, though sometimes it moves with painful slowness. Tomorrow would mark twenty