The False Ducks Blahg

  Okay, time for another fully realized original short story by me, Scott Henderson.  I have been working on this story for over a month and it hasn’t been easy.  My notes show I started the story on May 5th.  I finished the final edit yesterday on June 9th.  Why so long?  Well, let’s give you some point by point excuses why it took so long to write my current story. 

1)  Get an idea.  I had the idea of this pocket device that will do almost everything for you but it’s a little kooky and drives a young woman nuts. 

2)  Mull it over.  Change the setup and then come up with an ending without writing a single word then try and figure out how you’re going to steer your story to your new ending. 

3)  Write a blahg about Clifford Simak instead.  That was my blahg, THAT BLAHG ABOUT CLIFFORD D. SIMAK, that I published on May 13th.  I think it’s a good blahg but it was also a distraction. 

4)  Get obsessed with trying to find some Funko Pops you really wanted.  I learned there was going to be a new batch of Jimmy Neutron Funko Pops released and I really wanted them. 

My wife managed to find Jimmy Neutron at the Hot Topic store in Kingston.  At the same time she also found two of the new Goofy Movie 30th Anniversary Pops: 

She picked up Goofy and Max as Powerline.  That left Roxanne and Bobby.  No one had Bobby.  If he was listed anywhere, he was sold out.  I know that he was available through Hot Topic because Top Pops through his YouTube channel showed him picking them up. He managed to score Goofy, Max, and Bobby all in one go.  The Bobby has a Funko exclusive sticker on him so I knew he’d be hard to locate.

Roxanne was also hard to find.  Online Funko shops listed her as coming out on December 31st of this year but that didn’t make any sense.  Game Stop’s website listed her as coming out on May 16th.  There was a pre-order link to order and pick up in the store but I decided I’d try my local Game Stop on May 16th.  No, she was not there.  The Game Stop website then showed her as coming out on May 23rd but the pre-order link was gone.  I tried Game Stop on May 23rd but no luck.  The release date online then shifted to May 30th and the pre-order in store pick up link was back.  I ordered it.  Game Stop also listed Max and Goofy but had no listing for Bobby.  I was able to order a Bobby off of Amazon and it arrived by May 28th.  On May 30th I went to my local Game Stop and they had Roxanne for me.  They also had Bobby.  Just my luck, I had decided to order it from Amazon and pay $10 more than the Game Stop price. 

   Getting back to the Jimmy Neutron figures, no other website had the two other pops, Carl and Sheen listed so I had to order them from www.funko.com/ca.  My wife and I went back to Hot Topic in Kingston on May 24th to see if they might have received Bobby or Roxanne in stock.  They didn’t have them.  We then went across the road to the Game Stop where I saw Carl and Sheen.  By then, I’d already received them in the mail.  Game Stop had not listed them on their website but when I got home, I checked their website and they were listed.  What gives Game Stop?

5)  Celebrate your wedding anniversary on May 30th and pick up Roxanne at Game Stop.  Jeanette and I went out to Swiss Chalet then went to the movies, after picking up Roxanne, and saw the new Mission: Impossible movie.  It was good.  Here’s the photo I posted on Facebook to celebrate our 38th Anniversary.  It’s us 38 years ago! 

6)  Decide to recover our living room floor.  Okay, we’ve been thinking about this for a while.  We’ve lived in our old house for more than twenty years, and our living room floor has always been a bit of an eyesore.  Here’s a couple of before photos that Jeanette took: 

We started the job on June 1st by removing all of the furniture and then laying down underlayment over top of the old flooring.  We then worked a couple of hours each night and then again a little more on Saturday June 7th and then two smaller pieces on June 8th.  We both were sore and tired and realized we had more muscles to spare twenty years ago.  Back then, however, we had a full house of kids and cats and not enough money.  The flooring was on sale this year at Rona and I bought the underlayment off a guy on Facebook Marketplace.  Here’s the result with some during and after photos.  The white stuff is the underlayment. 

Our cat, Zoey found a spot of sunshine to enjoy along with the new floor.  Well worth all our efforts 

7)   Live your life.  Work was busy and we had lots to do and people to see.  That was the best distraction. 

   

   Finally, the story is done.  It’s a little long and little darker than what I usually write and it went off in a different direction than I expected but I think the ending really pulls it together.  Enjoy!

 

THE POCKET PAL’S GUIDE TO MURDER

by

Scott Henderson

The chicken was white.  It strutted across the farmyard.  It also pecked for food.  It did not lay an egg that morning but some other hens did.

“This is garbage,” Sally Hines said aloud after reading out her first attempt at writing a new story.

Sally clicked the A.I. correction button in the word editing software.  There were no suggestions.

“That cinches it.  You can’t improve on garbage, Anna.”  Sally was getting good at expressing her opinions to herself.

“The enigmatic and sudden disappearance of a main character, such as a farmer, would be a great plot device for a mystery story.”  Sally turned and looked at her Pocket Pal.

“You’re kidding right, Anna?”

As if to signify it was not kidding, Anna said nothing.

“There’s definitely something wrong with that thing,” Sally thought to herself.  She felt it was probably safer not to say it out loud.  She didn’t want to deal with a response from Anna.

At first Sally thought the Pocket Pal was a blessing.  Now, she wasn’t so sure.

The Pocket Pal had been marketed as the electronic aid that no one should live without.  It synced to your phone, your tablet, and your personal computer.  It operated on vocal commands to send texts, make phone calls, turn on and off other synced devices, and provided research on anything Sally Hines could think to ask of it.

Sometimes it provided data when Sally Hines did not ask.

“Extrapolating from recent playlists, I have selected the following song for your personal enjoyment.”  Sally did like the song that Anna had selected.  Still, it was alarming to hear Anna offer the suggestion without being prompted.

“Did you know that Dung Beetles do not necessarily have to eat or drink anything else, because the dung provides all the necessary nutrients?”  Anna had offered on another occasion.  It had not related to anything in any conversation Sally had ever had with Anna.

“No, I did not know that Anna.  Thank you for the information.”  Sally had become accustomed to Anna’s idiosyncrasies.

After the Dung Beetle dialogue, Sally thought it was time to review Anna’s manual again.  These uninvited information offerings had become more and more frequent and Sally wanted to be sure that it wasn’t something she had wrongly set in Anna’s programing.

The manual offered nothing insightful.  There was some dribble about thanking the user for their discerning purchase and how they should be prepared to have their life changed for the better.  Beyond that it was simple steps about harmonizing the Pocket Pal to all other devices, vocal recognition, and choosing a voice suitable to the user’s needs.  Customization of voice followed a section on naming your new Pocket Pal to suit your whim.  Sally had chosen a pleasing female voice and called her device Anna.  It wasn’t without thought.  Anna had been the name of Sally’s imaginary friend when she was younger.  Now she was more than Sally’s imaginary friend, she was Sally’s Pocket Pal.

Initially, it was simple.  All Sally had to do was to say Anna’s name and then instruct her on what Sally wanted her Pocket Pal to do.  Anna had both a microphone and a speaker.  Anna could send texts and make phone calls.  She could create reminders with Sally’s prompting.  Anna was also intuitive and would let Sally know if there were upcoming events from Sally’s texts or calendar.  At those times, it would be Anna who would prompt Sally.

Comparable in size to a deck of cards, it was simple to carry Anna in a purse, a bag, or in a pocket; as her marketed name suggested.  For an extra fee, you could purchase a holster that could be worn on the waist or adjusted to secure to the forearm or even between the elbow and shoulder area.  Sally had opted for the latter.  She often thought of rolling Anna up in her shirt sleeve like a pack of cigarettes.  She’d seen the cool kids do that when she’d attended high-school even though Sally had never been part of that group.

When it came to friends, Sally could not boast great success.  Her imaginary friend Anna had been her constant companion in her pre-teen years and she struggled to make lasting connections later on.  Even her ex-boyfriend Bryce had turned out to be a jerk.  Sally often thought that if she asked her Pocket Pal for a generated list of names for a jerk type character that the name Bryce would be close to the top.

Sally hated Bryce.  The feeling had been immediate and lasting after their breakup.  In reality it hadn’t been much of a breakup.  Bryce had admitted to Sally by text that he had met someone else and he and Sally were through.  He didn’t even have the compassion to add ‘it’s not you, it’s me.’ Even ‘it’s been fun’ or ‘I wish you the best’ would have been something.  Sally hated Bryce.

When Bryce left, Sally cried for days.  Anna had been her only friend during that period.  Anna would play sad songs or happy songs or offer advice like “I am here for you Sally if you have any requests” or “many people indulge in substantial doses of ice-cream and Netflix following the end of a relationship.”  Well, they may not have been tailored expressly for Sally but she took comfort knowing she could talk to Anna and not be judged.

Sally’s healing process after Bryce had been to throw herself back into her writing.  She’d always enjoyed writing fiction and as a youth she had included her fictional friend Anna in many of her literary efforts.  When she was with Bryce, she hadn’t found time to indulge in writing.  She was focussed on the relationship and between her day job and Bryce she had been busy enough.  Sometimes as an Event Coordinator everything else had to take second place.  Events weren’t always a daytime occurrence.  Occasionally there were evening galas or weekend weddings or holiday experiences.  Maybe Sally had not given all of her attention to Bryce and maybe he’d wanted her entire focus to have been on him.  No, Sally thought, he’d been a jerk.  Skimpy floral arrangements or miscoloured balloon schemes or insufficient chair rentals couldn’t handle themselves.  Sometimes Sally had to step in.  Bryce should have understood that.  He didn’t and that’s why he was a jerk…as well as how he’d broken things off.  Sally hated Bryce.

Writing, at times, could be cathartic but since Bryce, Sally had found it more of a chore and the words did not always come easy to her.  She’d find herself using the A.I. editing software more often or would turn to Anna and ask for synonyms or suggestions for locales.  The current chicken scenario had proven to Sally her creative processes were slowly running dry.

Sally thought again about Anna’s suggestion that she kill off the farmer in her current story.  Well, that hadn’t been exactly what Anna had suggested but it was close enough.

“Anna, what was that you said about the mysterious disappearance of a main character making for an interesting read?”

“The enigmatic and sudden disappearance of a main character, such as a farmer, would be a great plot device for a mystery story,” Anna repeated.

“That’s what I thought you said,” Sally replied.  Anna’s unsolicited suggestion, although disturbing at first, might prove to be helpful after all.

“Anna, if you were stuck for a story idea, what suggestions could you offer for a suitable plot idea?”

“Currently, themes of sex or murder factor significantly in the bestselling novels,” came Anna’s reply.

“Well Anna, there’s certainly none of either of those happening around here,” Sally offered as a response.

“You once told me you hated Bryce,” Anna countered.

Sally was taken aback.  What did Anna mean by that?  Was she suggesting that the murder of Bryce was a good idea or was she reminding Sally that she shouldn’t dwell on the lack of sexual activity in her life because Sally’s last partner had turned out to be a jerk?

“Revenge themed murders rank highly among the most popular mystery stories,” Anna continued.

“We’re talking about a story idea, right Anna?”  Sally wasn’t quite certain of Anna’s meaning.

“There are certain toxins in plant varieties that when combined correctly can produce an undetectable poisonous substance.  I have just sent the information to your cell phone.”  Sally’s phone chimed with the notification of data received to the Pocket Pal app.

Sally scrolled through the material.  Anna had been very thorough.  Oddly, all of the plants suggested by Anna were easily available.  Sally had another very uneasy feeling about her Pocket Pal.

“Anna, I asked you before if we were talking about a story idea?”  Anna had not directly answered Sally’s initial question.

“Mark Twain was famously attributed as saying ‘write what you know’.” 

“What does that mean?  I don’t know anything about murder.”  Sally wasn’t sure what to do now about Anna.  Anna was offering inappropriate suggestions.  Or was she?

“You once told me you hated Bryce.  I have sent information to your phone regarding certain toxins in plant varieties that when combined correctly can produce an undetectable poisonous substance.”  Anna was now merging previous statements to formulate a new response.  Sally was left to make the conclusion that Anna was indeed suggesting she murder Bryce and was providing Sally with the means to do it.

None of this made any sense.  Sally had been talking about writing a story that involved murder and Anna was suggesting an actual murder as inspiration for the story.  Write what you know.  That’s what Anna was suggesting.  Could she really write a murder themed story?  Sally Hines had to give it more thought.

Sally decided to go for a run to clear her head.  She left all of her electronic devices at home.  She didn’t say anything to Anna.  Anna didn’t need to know.  She wouldn’t even miss Sally.

During her run, Sally tried to set aside everything Anna had said.  It had all been literary advice but the way Anna had repeated herself about the toxins and Sally’s hatred of Bryce was off-putting.

Sally tried to focus on her run.  It didn’t help.  Subconsciously she steered herself along a route that included places she once visited with Bryce.  She even found herself running past Bryce’s apartment building.  When she realized where she was, she stopped to silently mouth “I hate you Bryce.”  Anna had picked up on that.  Sally thought she had let go of Bryce but it was apparent that Sally’s loathing of Bryce had not abated.

Sally abandoned all attempts at writing over the following days.  Every time she sat anywhere near her computer, Anna would randomly recite facts that seemed to be spurring Sally toward action.

“Unsolved murders, often referred to as cold cases, are a significant issue, with a substantial percentage of homicide cases remaining unresolved. Approximately fifty percent of all murder cases go unsolved.”

“Nearly 346,000 cases of homicide and non-negligent manslaughter went unsolved from 1965 to 2023, according to the FBI’s Uniform Crime Report.”

“Getting Away with Murder is the fourth studio album by American rock band Papa Roach.”

“How to Get Away with Murder was an American television series that premiered on the American Broadcasting Company on September 25, 2014, and concluded on May 14, 2020.”

Sally lay awake at night and ran over everything in her head.  Anna wanted her to kill Bryce.  She had provided Sally with the means.  She had been suggesting that Sally could get away with murder.  Sally hated Bryce.  Bryce’s murder would make for great inspiration for a story.  Write what you know.  Sally didn’t know murder but Anna had made it sound so easy.  And Sally hated Bryce.  There was always that.

“Anna, wouldn’t the person taste the poison brewed from the toxins of plants?”  Sally asked of Anna after another night of restlessness.  She wasn’t resolved to the idea of murdering Bryce so she treated the information gathering from Anna as research for the eventual story she would write.

“Some bitter tastes can be disguised by spices such as cinnamon or cardamom.  Strong tea or coffee flavours can also mask overwhelming flavours.”   

“Solar Eclipse, Anna.  Solar Eclipse.”  Sally was just musing aloud and didn’t expect an answer form Anna.  Sally had developed a thought regarding hiding the bitter taste of a poison.

“A solar eclipse occurs when the Moon passes between the Earth and the Sun, blocking the Sun’s light. This can result in a total, annular, or partial eclipse, depending on the relative positions of the Sun, Moon, and Earth.”

“I’m not talking about that Anna, I meant…”

“Carly Simon’s 1972 song ‘You’re So Vain’ contains the lyrics ‘I hear you went up to Saratoga and your horse naturally won, then you flew your Lear jet up to Nova Scotia to see the total eclipse of the sun.’ “

“Coffee, Anna.  I’m talking about coffee.”

“Solar Eclipse is a brand of dark roast coffee.  It is known for its bold, intense taste and robust aroma.  The beans are roasted for a longer time and at a higher temperature than lighter roasts, which results in a more pronounced, bittersweet flavour with a hint of smokiness.”

“That’s enough Anna.  I know what Solar Eclipse is.  I’m the one who brought it up.”

Sally hated Solar Eclipse just as much as she hated Bryce. It had been Bryce’s favourite and she couldn’t stand the smell of it.  She thought it was overpowering but she had always kept some on hand whenever Bryce was staying over.  Sally was more of a lighter roast or breakfast blend fan when it came to coffee.  She’d found a few of Bryce’s coffee machine pods in her apartment after the breakup.  She had tried one to see why Bryce had liked it so much.  Part of her had thought that if she learned to like everything Bryce liked then maybe she could win him back.  She hated the coffee.  It bolstered her hatred of Bryce even more.  She eventually threw out the remaining pods.

Sally began to think more and more about the method of murder and concealing the toxin taste in the dark roast coffee.  It could be done but how to get him to drink it?  She and Bryce weren’t together anymore and she was sure he would be suspicious of any invitation from her to meet up for coffee; poisoned or otherwise.

“Anna, how much poison concocted from certain toxins in plant varieties would it take to kill the average human being?”  Sally had come to the realization that she needed to be specific when asking anything of Anna.

“On average 1.5 to 2mm of a poisonous substance is enough to be fatal to a human being.”  Anna could also be specific.

Sally began to make notes of what she was considering to be the perfect murder.  The specific plant varieties were easily obtainable.  She would need to crush these down to a fine powder and mix them thoroughly.  Sally also gave considerable thought to the method of delivery.  She recalled the coffee pods she had discovered after Bryce’s departure and how strongly they had smelled and tasted.  If she could somehow insert the toxins directly into the pod then when it was brewed the resulting beverage would be the perfect lethal combination.

The more Sally worked on her plans the more she became resigned to the idea that she really could get away with murdering Bryce.  The deciding factor was when she found Bryce’s spare key in the pocket of a jacket she hadn’t worn in a while.  When Bryce had texted her about the key she said she had thrown it away.  She didn’t want to admit she’d lost it.

Sally Hines now had means, method, and opportunity to end the life of her ex-boyfriend Bryce.  The more she had planned and the more she had thought about it in the context of story writing, the more she realized she was just deluding herself.  She had never gotten over Bryce’s betrayal and that hatred had continued to consume her.

She began to stalk him online.  She checked out his social media presence and read with disgust everything he posted.  He was with someone new now.  Sally wasn’t sure what numbered incarnation of companions this one was since the split or if the newest one was a stopping point on the way to the next.

“A social media influencer?  He’s dating a social media influencer, Anna!  We used to make fun of those types of people.”  Sally’s latest outburst was after checking out Bryce’s newest girlfriend’s online profile.

“‘Social media influencers can negatively impact followers through the promotion of unrealistic beauty standards, misinformation, and unethical consumption behaviors. They can also contribute to mental health issues like anxiety, depression, and body image dissatisfaction, especially among vulnerable youth.”  Anna had opinions of her own that oddly matched those of the Pocket Pal’s owner.  Sally was not oblivious of the fact.

“A blonde Foodie!  Is there anything worse?  She’s rail thin for crying out loud.  What does she even know about food Anna?”

“A Foodie is a person who has a strong passion for food, going beyond simply eating to encompass a deep appreciation for the culinary arts, food culture, and the overall experience of eating.”

Sally ignored Anna’s information and continued on with her rant.  “And that hair colour?  It’s probably a dye job, Anna!”

“In Renaissance Italy, people dyed their hair blonde with horse urine.” 

Sally looked over at Anna and laughed.

“Exactly!  A horse piss hair coloured phony who wouldn’t know a sandwich from a sandcastle.  He deserves someone like her.”  Sally was quickly building up a hatred for the social media influencer that rivaled her hatred of Bryce.

The murder had now moved beyond literary conjecture and soon became an obsession with Sally.  She threw herself into her event planning duties with fervor as a distraction but the idea of killing Bryce and not being discovered drove her on.

Eventually she organized her campaign and began to set things in motion.  She purchased the plants at a local nursery.  No one was the wiser.  How could anyone know her intent to combine castings from the vegetation to create a deadly substance?  She ordered a syringe and the Solar Eclipse pods from an online source.  The e-tailer was known for its extensive online marketplace, where people could buy a wide variety of products without question.  Sally added a blonde wig to her order at the last minute.

The idea for the wig was inspired by Bryce’s influencer paramour.  Sally understood it would be impossible to visit Bryce’s apartment building as herself.  She’d been there before when they’d been a couple and people might recognize her.  Sally knew she’d need a disguise.  The ensemble was completed with a hooded sweatshirt she could pull up to be partially concealed.  She would also wear a medical mask.  Although it had been a few years since the pandemic, there were still pockets of citizens who wore the masks out of concern.  Some people were usually surprised to see others continuing to wear them but then they’d just as quickly look away and dismiss it as nothing oddly abnormal.

Anna was very helpful when it came time to render the foliage into a useable substance.

“To dry and crush leaves in an oven, first wash and dry the leaves, then arrange them on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Bake at the lowest oven temperature, ideally below 180 degrees Fahrenheit or 82 degrees Celsius, with the door slightly ajar for several hours, until the leaves are completely dry and crumble easily. Once cooled, the leaves can be crushed by hand or with a mortar and pestle.”

Sally crafted a homemade mortar and pestle from a deep mixing bowl and a metal soup ladle.  She crushed copious amounts of the leaves of the three plants together.  She wasn’t sure how much was too much or how little was too little so she opted on the side of ample quantities to ensure enough toxins would be present in the resulting poison.

She removed two Solar Eclipse pods from their packaging.  One she brewed in her coffee machine and the other she set aside.  She spooned some of the brewed liquid into the mixing bowl and stirred everything together.  When she thought it was not a thin enough material, she added more liquid until she was sure the concoction was the right consistency.

With the syringe she drew up a full count of the fluid and then carefully injected the contents into the top of the coffee pod she had set aside.  Sally made sure not to make the size of the hole too noticeable.  There was a solar eclipse design rendered in the foil covering the pod and she inserted the needle in one of the darkest spots of the image.  If Sally didn’t know what to look for, she was sure she would have missed the hole completely.  She set the pod aside again to fully absorb the liquid and to cure overnight.

“Tomorrow’s the day Anna.  I hope I’m ready.”

“Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.  Matthew 6, Verse 34.”  Anna was no help in this instance.

Sally hardly slept at all that night.  She ran over everything in her head.  She tried not to question what she was doing.  She was beyond that.  Sally had consigned herself to her mission.  She hated Bryce and his murder would make for great inspiration.  In her mind, he deserved what was coming.  He was a jerk.

Part of her restlessness also related to the biblical quotation from Anna.  There was something oddly familiar about it and something nagging her about the passage.  It seemed incomplete like there was a part missing.  Sally thought of asking Anna but she had the odd feeling that Anna would not be completely forthcoming.  It wasn’t that she thought Anna was capable of lying but omission of facts seemed deliberate as a way to guide Sally to action.

Hadn’t all of this been at Anna’s suggestion; directly or not?  First it had been the recommendation of murdering the farmer in Sally’s chicken story.  Then it was information about plants and toxins and poison and how to get away with murder.  Sally dismissed the part about the dung beetle because it didn’t seem to have correlation to any of the other events.  With Anna, however, you never could tell.

Sally tried to put it all out of her mind.  “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.”  Sally was past worry.  She’d planned and prepared.  All that was left was the act.

She rose early and laid out what she needed.  She checked the poisoned coffee pod.  It had not leaked overnight.  She shook it firmly and there was no sloshing sound.  Everything was dry.  She marvelled again at her own ingenuity of using some of the brewed coffee as a binding agent to the leaf toxins.  It would add to the flavour.  Anna had not helped with that bit.  Sally had come up with it all on her own.

Sally called in sick to work.  It would be a light day anyway and besides her assistant could handle anything that came up.  Sally had more pressing things in her schedule.

At midmorning she made her way over to Bryce’s apartment.  No one gave her a second look.  The blonde wig didn’t seem to be out of place nor did the mask.  The city had seen odder sights.

Sally went about her business as if it were routine.  She didn’t want anyone to think she was there for nefarious purposes.  She walked cautiously but confidently up to Bryce’s apartment as if she were meant to be there.  In her mind, this was exactly where she was meant to be.  Everything had led to this.

She hesitated only briefly when a fleeting thought crossed about the possibility of Bryce being in the apartment.  He shouldn’t be.  She knew his schedule.  He shouldn’t be there.  He’d always pack a lunch and remain at work until the end of the day.  This had been his pattern when they’d been together and nothing from his online profile had suggested any changes.

Sally rang the buzzer and waited.  There was no sound from inside.  There was nothing to indicate activity from within.  She tried her key in the lock.  It still fit.  Typical Bryce, she thought, he’d probably been too lazy to change the lock or didn’t think Sally was a threat with an outstanding key.  She turned the lock, opened the door and slipped inside.

Sally had been correct.  There had been no one home.  She looked around.  Little had changed.  There were some new photos on the wall.  Bryce and his blonde bimbo made a lovely pair, Sally thought.  She thought it but she didn’t believe it.

Bryce’s kitchen was the same.  He still kept his coffee pods in a carousel on the counter next to the machine.  She grabbed up one and checked the foil label.  It was still the Solar Eclipse brand.  At least he had loyalty in coffee choice if not in women.  She turned and looked at one of the photos of Bryce and his new girlfriend and then wondered to herself how long the Foodie would last.

Sally slipped the coffee pod into a pocket of her hooded sweatshirt and from the other pocket produced the poisoned version.  She placed it in the vacant spot in the carousel and gave it a quarter spin so the row containing the laced product was not readily visible.  Bryce would eventually get to that selection.  It didn’t need to be immediate.

In addition to the other parts of her disguise, Sally had worn surgical gloves.  She had several left over from the pandemic.  She had kept her hands within her pockets until she entered the apartment.  You can’t get away with murder if you leave fingerprints behind.

Sally took one last look around.  Part of her wanted to leave evidence that she’d been there.  She wanted Bryce to realize it had been her as he lay gasping his last breath.  In the end, she did nothing.  She’d done enough.  It was only important that Sally knew that she was responsible for Bryce’s death.

She looked through the peep hole in the door to see if anyone was in the hall.  After assuring herself there wasn’t, she quietly slipped out and locked the door behind her.

Once in the street, Sally began to walk a circuitous route back to her own apartment.  Along the way she removed the mask and gloves and deposited them in a street trash container.  Further on, she removed the wig and tossed it into another receptacle.  She dropped Bryce’s spare key down a sewer grate.  She still kept her head down on the journey home.  Now, it was just a matter of time.

Once inside the safety of her own unit, she threw up.  She spent several minutes in the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face and tried to calm herself.

Later she bundled the remnants of the discarded plants with the remainder of the Solar Eclipse pods and their packaging.  She tossed them into her kitchen waste container, securely tied the bag, and then calmly walked it out and tossed it into the bin out back of her complex.

She returned inside and threw up again.  She then lay on the bed and began to weep.  It was more out of exhaustion and the end of the adrenalin rush associated with the feat of setting a murder scene.  Sally Hines then fell asleep.

She’d had next to no sleep the night before and the fatigue of everything enveloped her and she slept hard.  She dreamt of Bryce and their time together.  She was happy.  They were happy.  Suddenly Bryce died and she was all alone and wracked with emotion and grief.  She woke with a start and then dashed to the bathroom.  There was nothing left inside her so she dry heaved, splashed water on her face again, and tried to make sense of her dreams.

It couldn’t be guilt.  She easily dismissed that notion.  If she’d felt guilt all along then she wouldn’t have followed through with her poisoned pod scheme.  Sally turned to Anna for answers.

“Anna, I don’t suppose you know the meaning of a dream about grief without there being a death?  Well, not yet, at least.”

“A dream involving grief and loss without actual death often symbolizes a period of change, transition, or the end of a chapter in your life. Such dreams can serve as a way for your subconscious to process and work through unresolved emotions or a sense of loss, even if it’s not directly related to death.  It may also reflect feelings of sadness, betrayal, loneliness, or a sense of emptiness.”

Anna had pegged her to the core.  She had felt betrayed by Bryce.  Now she was alone.  She was lonely.  Her life felt empty.  Anna was her only friend.  Sally felt depressed.

Now, the guilt began to seep in for real.  Her dream had showed her that she’d been happy…once.  Yes, Bryce had been a jerk but did he really need to die?  She’d taken a once happy experience and had twisted it with her anger toward Bryce.

“Anna, what have I done?  I loved Bryce!  He doesn’t deserve to die.”

“You once told me you hated Bryce.  The enigmatic and sudden disappearance of a main character, such as a farmer, would be a great plot device for a mystery story. Currently, themes of sex or murder factor significantly in the bestselling novels,”

“This isn’t a novel Anna, this is real life!  What have I done?”

Anna didn’t reply.  It was as if Anna’s silence was deliberate to compound Sally’s feelings of guilt.

What had Sally done?  That’s all she could think.  What had she done and what could she do?  Nothing could be undone.  The disguise was gone and more importantly the key was gone.  She could not get back into Bryce’s apartment to retrieve the poisoned pod.

“Maybe it won’t work, Anna.  Maybe the dose wasn’t correct.  Maybe Bryce will just become ill.  Maybe he won’t die.”

“On average 1.5 to 2mm of a poisonous substance is enough to be fatal to a human being.”  Sally was sure that Anna was deliberately taunting her, now.

Sally Hines grabbed up Anna and tossed her into a kitchen drawer.

“This isn’t my fault,” she said to herself when she was sure Anna couldn’t hear her.  “This was all Anna’s doing.  I was just trying to write a story about a chicken.  She led me to thoughts of killing.  She played on my hatred of Bryce. She talked about toxins and poisons and delivery methods.”

Sally tried to rationalize Anna as the reason for everything.  Of course, it wouldn’t stand up in court, she thought.  Sally had done the deed, not Anna.  Just thinking about the notion of court made Sally suddenly reflect on the possibility of her getting caught.  For all of Anna’s comments about getting away with murder, Sally began to have her doubts.

Sally went back over everything.  She’d eliminated all of the evidence.  The wig and the key were history.  The plants and the remaining Solar Eclipse pods were in the bin behind the building.

“The pod!” Sally exclaimed aloud.  She was still wearing the hooded sweatshirt.  She’d forgotten that piece of apparel had been part of her costume.  She plunged her hand into first one pocket and then the other.  There it was.  It was the pod she had taken out of Bryce’s carousel to be replaced by the poisoned version.  It was the only thing left tying her to the crime.  She thought about running it out to the bin but she didn’t want to take the chance of being seen and being considered suspicious just trying to dispose of one small item into the large dumpster; one small but not insignificant item.

Sally had a quick thought and pulled open the drawer that now held Anna, and tossed in the pod.

“There you go, Anna, a souvenir to a killing.”

” ‘You shouldn’t keep souvenirs of a killing. You shouldn’t have been that sentimental,’ is a line spoken by the character John Scottie Ferguson, played by James Stewart, in the 1958 movie Vertigo, directed by Alfred Hitchcock.”

Sally Hines shouted “Shut Up, Anna” and slammed the drawer closed.

There was nothing for it now.  Sally was resigned to her fate.  Maybe the poison wouldn’t work.  But then again maybe it would do exactly what Anna had intended.  Sally couldn’t think about that now.  In the morning she’d dispose of the pod and the sweatshirt.  There would be nothing connecting her to Bryce’s possible death.  Maybe, as Anna had suggested, Sally could get away with murder.  Then it hit her, there was one other thing linking her to the premeditated homicide…Anna.  Maybe she should rid herself of Anna.  Sally couldn’t think about that now.  She decided she should try and not think of anything.

It wasn’t easy.  She had another restless night.  She didn’t recall her dreams and she managed to sleep more than she had the evening before.  In the morning she went back into her routine of readying to go back to work.  She couldn’t afford to be off for long.  Her assistant was good but she wasn’t that good, Sally thought.  In her rush to resume a normal semblance of life, she completely forgot about Anna and the pod lying in the drawer.  The hooded sweatshirt lay abandoned beside her bed where she had tossed it.  It had slipped off the bed and lay partially covered by Sally’s blankets.  She had forgotten about it by the next day.

Trying to not think of anything didn’t come easy.  Sally was constantly trying to find out what was happening with Bryce.  He and his Foodie partner continued to post daily.  Sally grew relieved and anxious at the same time.  Maybe the poison hadn’t worked.  Then again, she’d given the carousel a quarter turn so the laced pod wouldn’t be in the forefront.  She couldn’t be sure what had happened.

Daily she checked Bryce’s social media account.  Nothing.  Life went on as usual.  For a week, Sally checked and checked but everything was status quo.

One evening she went to retrieve her cell-phone charger and discovered Anna and the Solar Eclipse pod still in the kitchen drawer.

Sally grabbed up the pod and turned it over in her hand.  “A souvenir to a killing,” Sally said to herself.  “Almost,” she added.  She didn’t care anymore.  Bryce had not died.  The plan had failed…thankfully.  She left it in the drawer but freed Anna from her isolation.  Sally would give her one more chance.  She hoped there would be no more talk of murder.

That evening, Anna entertained her with songs both requested and not.  She also regaled Sally with unsolicited facts about the Mississippi Delta.

“The Mississippi Delta is a unique and complex region with some unusual characteristics. For example, it is losing 24 square miles of wetlands each year, a loss of about 10,000 square feet per hour.”  At least it wasn’t anything to do with murder or mysterious deaths.

The next day the story of a mysterious death came across Sally’s morning news feed.

“Fans of a noted social media influencer are mourning the sudden passing of…”

“Oh my god, Anna, we’ve killed the Foodie!” Sally exclaimed.

“‘Social media influencers can negatively impact followers through the promotion of unrealistic beauty standards, misinformation, and unethical consumption behaviors. They can also contribute to mental health issues like anxiety, depression, and body image dissatisfaction, especially among vulnerable youth.”

Sally ignored Anna and continued to read the article.  It talked about the Foodie’s popularity and accomplishments.  It also mentioned her boyfriend Bryce and how police were questioning him about her sudden demise.

Sally stopped reading and began to cry.

Through her tears she began to question Anna.

“What have we done Anna?  We’ve killed an innocent person.”  Her words came in spurts through her weeping.  “What if Bryce is arrested?  What if he goes to prison?  This isn’t what I wanted at all.  What if they find out about the poison?  What if they link it back to me?  They’re questioning Bryce today but what if they come for me tomorrow?”

“Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.  Matthew 6, Verse 34.”

There was that biblical quote again.  It was the same one Anna had recited the evening before Sally had embarked on bringing about Bryce’s death.  There was also that same feeling that the verse was incomplete.

Sally tried to calm herself so she could clearly ask Anna about the quotation.  She wanted to make sure she was precise so Anna would not avoid answering.

“Anna, what’s the next verse after Matthew 6, Verse 34?”

“Do not judge, or you too will be judged.  For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.  Matthew 7 Verse 2.”

Sally looked down at Anna in complete shock.  Judge not lest ye be judged.  It was a famous quotation.  Sally wasn’t religious but she knew certain passages from the bible.  Most people did.  They didn’t always understand what they knew or often misquoted verse and text but this one Sally understood.  Do not judge, or you too will be judged.  It was a more modern version of the phrase but it was the same.  It was the second part, however, that hit home.  “For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”

Had Anna’s omission of the verse after not worrying about tomorrow been a caution to Sally?  Had she tried to warn off Sally?

The Foodie was dead.  Her death was the unintended consequence of Sally’s attempt to poison Bryce.  She did not know Bryce’s new girlfriend but had admitted disdain when Sally learned she was now with Bryce.  Despite her contempt of the social media influencer, she had not factored into Sally’s plans.  An innocent life had been lost.

She recalled her dream of Bryce after laying the poisoned trap at his apartment.  Sally had awoken with fierce emotion and grief.  She had dismissed it as not being feelings of guilt and yet she had asked Anna the meaning of a dream about grief without there being a death?  Now there was a death…a wrongful death.

“And with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”  That’s what Anna had said.  That was the last part of the quotation.  “It will be measured to you.”

All of the quotations were bearing down on Sally.  ‘Thou shalt not kill.’  ‘An eye for an eye.’

Sally Hines had to make it right.  Bryce should not be found guilty for what Sally had done.  ‘And with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.’  Sally understood what she had to do. 

  Sally Hines did not go to work.  She did not call in sick.  She let her phone go to voice mail and she did not return any texts.

Sally waited until dark before beginning her new plan.  She donned the hooded sweatshirt she had worn when she went to Bryce’s apartment.  She had found it eventually partially beneath the bed and had laundered it.  As she had thought her murder scheme had failed, she saw no need to discard the garment.  Cloaked in the frock, she grabbed up Anna, and then went out into the night.

On the other side of town there was a bridge that spanned the bay.  It was nearly a hundred feet in height and allowed sailing boats and other larger vessels to pass underneath while traffic flowed across the roadway to the western side of the city.  A plummet to the water below would probably not be fatal but it didn’t matter.  Sally Hines could not swim well.  She would not fight the inevitable and would allow herself to slip beneath the waves.

At home she had left a note explaining everything.  She admitted to the murder and omitted none of the details.  She also clarified her intentions regarding the bridge.  ‘And with the measure I used, it will be measured unto me at my own hand.’  In the center of the note she placed the Solar Eclipse pod she had removed from Bryce’s apartment.  She left her door unlocked.  Her absence from work would be noticed.  Someone would be worried and come looking for her.  It was more than she deserved.

The bridge was mostly empty at that time of night.  It didn’t matter, she had her undertaking.

Sally looked down at the water below and then reached into the sweatshirt and removed her Pocket Pal.

“This is where we part, Anna.  And with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.  You set me on the path to murder and someone else died.  We can’t live with that, Anna.  Don’t you understand, Anna?  You can’t get away with murder because you can’t get away from murder! An eye for an eye.”

“The Crisis Line is the first point of public access to the world of mental health services for people who are experiencing serious mental health issues.  This could include situational crisis, psychosis, severe depression, anxiety or suicidal behaviour.  Individuals, families or concerned friends may call the Crisis Line where  volunteer Responders will assess each situation, offer support and, if required, connect you with the appropriate Crisis Team in your area.”

“It’s too late for that, Anna” Sally replied.  She didn’t wait for a response from Anna.  She gripped her Pocket Pal securely in her hand and then hurled Anna out into the blackness.  The last sound from Anna was a distant splash far below.

Sally did not hesitate further.  There was no more reflection.  Sally Hines climbed up onto the railing, balanced herself for only a moment by holding onto a light standard, and then silently stepped off.

“Sally Hines climbed up onto the railing, balanced herself for only a moment by holding onto a light standard, and then silently stepped off.”  Sally Hines reread the last line of her story out loud.  “What do you think of it, Anna?  I took all of your facts and crafted a story based on my hatred of Bryce and your specifics about murder.  I’ll have to change the names to protect the innocent and all that.  Oh, and it needs a title.  I think I’ll call it ‘The Pocket Pal’s Guide to Murder’.”

“Stories featuring a potential threat from artificial intelligence in terms of manipulating human behaviour is an emerging trend in fictional literature.  Researchers have found, however, that people react negatively to artistic works featuring such themes.”

Sally thought for a moment on Anna’s response.  What did Sally really know about murder after all?  She only knew what Anna shared with her.  Sally knew even less about technology and how it could influence human behaviour.

“I guess you’re right, Anna.  Write what you know and what do I really know about murder?  I think I’ll start over but I’m going to keep the bits about the chicken and the dung beetle.  I think I can build on that.”

THE END