Know your ABCs

A short story by Tara Moss

• Winner of Second Prize in the 1999 Scarlet Stiletto Awards
• Included in selected creative writing programs in schools in Aus, NZ and Canada

Know Your ABC's, by Tara Moss

The envelopes always arrived on a Friday.

At first they arrived monthly, then every three weeks, and more recently, every two.

This particular Friday, Una wasn't expecting one.

She reached blindly into her mailbox and pulled out its contents; a small parcel from one of the book clubs, a fresh assortment of unfriendly household bills, and a thin envelope with a single typed address.

Another one. With a frown she noted the increase in frequency. It had only been seven days since the last.

A barely audible sigh, and she re-closed her mail box, slipping the envelope into her bag along with a rest of her post. Truth was, the bills bothered her more than the mysterious mail. If the letters were a threat of some kind, something would have happened long ago, she was sure. To Una, it was little more than an annoying ritual enforced by some unknown sender. Someone very bored, she suspected.

When the envelopes first started arriving, she had quickly recognised the contents - page after page of Edward Gorey's classic children's book, The Gashlycrumb Tinies, sent in alphabetical order;

A is for AMY who fell down the stairs
B is for BASIL assaulted by bears...
And so on. Today's envelope would no doubt contain the "T".

Una made her way up the steps to her bachelorette flat, wearily lugging six new titles from work. They weren't really new titles, only new to the library's humble collection; a couple of Patricia Cornwell novels with forensic sounding names, some Jackie Collins books, and B is for Burglar by Sue Grafton - another soul seemingly obsessed by the alphabet.

C is for Clara who wasted away

Una was sick of the alphabet. She didn't know what T stood for, and she didn't care.

D is for DESMOND thrown out of a sleigh

She did her best to put it out of her mind.

Una unlocked her front door and walked inside, setting her bag on the kitchen table. Only her books welcomed her home; title after title, stacked on the floors of every room, the tomes rising like wallpaper to meet high ceilings.

She set about checking her answering machine messages, and on finding there weren't any, busied herself by mopping up the remains of milk around Kitty's dish. Kitty, as usual, was no where to be found. The pickings were probably a whole lot better next door.

E is for ERNEST who choked on a peach
F is for FANNY sucked dry by a leech

The morbid alphabet rhyme continued to recite itself in the back of her mind.

G is for GEORGE smothered under a rug

She tried to forget it. From what she knew, The Gashlycrumb Tinies had no significance to her, except that last year, only weeks before the envelopes started arriving, she had flipped through the book during one of the duller moments at work. The only explanation she could surmise was that one of the library's patrons had seen her looking at it, and decided it would be great fun to send it to her page by page. How droll.

H is for HECTOR done in by a thug

Back when the envelopes concerned her a little, Una tried to check out the library's copy. She couldn't remember much from when she had flipped through it, and in light of her odd mail she was curious for another look. Unfortunately, The Gashlycrumb Tinies was missing. She thought it likely that the pages she kept receiving were torn from the library's stolen copy.

Clearly it would not be returned.

Una was eager to open her parcel and explore the new book club fiction she had been sent, but first she had chores to do and dinner to prepare. She opened her freezer and ran a finger down the frosty labels; Turkey Dinner, Pasta Bolognese, Chicken Kiev, Beef Lasagne. Lasagne?

Fine. She set the frozen package in her microwave, and watched it turn in slow circles as it started to cook.

Una's mail was decidedly depressing. She sifted through her bills with a grimace, spreading each one out on the kitchen table - medical insurance, life insurance, rent. When she finally came to the anonymously sent envelope, she positioned herself over the waste paper basket and slit it open from end to end, pulling out the single slip of paper between pinched fingers.

T is for TITUS who flew into bits, it read.

This line was accompanied by a simple sketch of a young boy about to open a parcel. Una dropped the envelope and its contents into the garbage. Somewhere, deep in the farthest reaches of her mind, it clicked that the letter that followed T was U. This fact was quickly deemed irrelevant.

Another vague spark of recognition - a weekend newspaper headline about the violent death of an executive in some big company in Sydney. A Mister something Garreth who died in a parcel bomb explosion. Terrible. Mr. Gorey's children's book isn't very funny, Una thought for the twentieth time. Parcel bombs weren't jokes. Neither were accidents on staircases, or bear attacks, or people dying of starvation...

I is for IDA who drowned in a lake...

Or drowning.

The microwave oven beeped, and she removed her lasagne. When she pulled off the plastic film top, the aroma of microwave-fresh beef lasagne filled her nostrils. Time for dinner.

J is for JAMES who took lye by mistake

The doorbell rang.

Una rarely had visitors, and the sound of the bell jolted her. She let her supper cool, and padded across to the foyer. As the opaque window panes came into view, she recognised the tall shadow stretching back from the entrance. It could only be one person.

She opened the door. "Hello Vic."

Victor Grundy lived in the basement flat next door. He was a smart, clean-cut young fellow and the only person Una knew in her neighbourhood. She had never been a very social person.

Her golden haired visitor held Kitty in his arms. "I thought you might be missing her," he said with a kind smile, and handed the cat down to her from his great height.

"Oh, thanks." Una knew that Kitty would be out wandering again the moment she let her out, but it was a kind gesture anyway. "How did that uni assignment go? Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Well," he said, casting his eyes downward, "not really. All the references were a bit old. I did all right off the Net, though. We get our marks next week."

"The library is a bit limited," she conceded.

"Hey. I've got a surprise for you," he said out of the blue, cracking a wide child-like smile.

"You do?" This shocked her. No one ever had a surprise for Una. She took a step back, unable to contain a flattered grin. A surprise for her?

"Yeah. Come with me and I'll show you."

She hardly knew what to say. She tried to think of what kind of surprise it could be. "Does it have to do with books?"

He smiled. "Yes. Now, no more questions or you'll ruin it. It's just a quick drive."

"A drive?" This puzzled her even more.

"Trust me."

Her dinner quickly forgotten, Una slipped on her shoes from work, grabbed her coat and keys, and switched off the lights. A surprise, for her!

K is for KATE who was struck by an axe
L is for LEO who swallowed some tacks

The alphabet leap into her mind again as she passed the trash can on her way out.

M is for MAUD who was swept out to sea
N is for NEVILLE who died of ennui

Kitty looked up from the milk bowl and meowed at her as she left.

When she stepped outside, Vic was already waiting for her in his black Falcon. The colour merged with the pitch dark of the street, and she had to squint to see the car. Her excitement swelled like an inflated balloon in her chest.

The car's interior light switched on as she approached. The handsome young man was leaning across from the driver's side to open the door for her. His chivalry gave her a rush. Nothing like this ever happened to Una. This kind of stuff only happened in books, or so she'd thought.

O is for OLIVE run through with an awl
P is for PRUE trampled flat in a brawl

Soon they were driving through the sleepy neighbourhood. She tried to guess where he was taking her. A surprise to do with books? A new book store opening up? Or maybe they were meeting an actual author? Someone he knew from the university?

They were passing out of the residential area now, the big silhouettes of industrial plants looming far ahead in the headlights. Vic turned left and started driving down Hilliam Road, which led to nothing but train tracks and factories. Una felt a stab of worry. What kind of a surprise was this?

Q is for QUENTIN who sank in a mire
R is for RHODA consumed by a fire

"Where are we going-" she began, but he abruptly cut her off.

"Remember, no questions. We don't want to ruin your surprise." She didn't like the condescending tone in his voice. He changed the subject. "So what are you reading at the moment?"

Una didn't respond at first. Her mind drifted back to that unopened parcel, and she wondered again what new title it held. New books always excited her. She wished she could write one herself, but she didn't think she was clever enough. "I just finished The Lottery Winner by Mary Higgins Clark," she explained, "and I got a new book in the mail today, so I think I'll start that one next."

"Was that the parcel I saw?"

She eyed the signs they passed on the dark road. TRAIN CROSSING AHEAD.

"Yeah," she said absentmindedly. She was feeling increasingly uneasy. She didn't know Vic that well, after all. Where was he taking her? She was pretty sure there wasn't anything but a chemical plant and some sewerage operation out this road. She wanted to get back to her books, and forget this silly surprise.

S is for SUSAN who perished of fits

"I noticed it on the table," Vic went on. "It made me think of that horrible Titus business over the weekend."

She snapped alert. "Titus? Did you just say Titus?"

"Yes. That parcel bomb at Titus corporation, where that exec got killed."

T is for TITUS who flew into bits

"Are you all right, Una? You look a little pale."

U is for...

There was the sound of a train somewhere in the distance.

U is for UNA...

Una felt her stomach drop out. Her brain seemed to spin in nauseating circles in her head. It was hard to think. Could the name be a coincidence?

She glanced across to Vic. He was watching the road again, his mouth twisted into an unsettling grin. He came to the library a lot, and had done for years. He could have seen her reading the book. He knew where she lived.

He was speaking now. "Una, Una, Una. So slow on the uptake." He laughed and faced her, still speeding them down the desolate road.

She held his eyes for a moment, slowly feeling across the door to find the door handle. He was planning to kill her. She had no doubt. She would have to hurl herself out and pray the fall didn't prevent her from running. A young man like Victor would be fast and fit.

"Seeing you with that book was such an inspiration," he explained. "It just clicked when I read it. The cops would never figure it out with all those different MO's. Only you could have figured it out, and sometimes I actually wondered if you might, reading all those murder mysteries and things. But you were always too into your books to notice the real world. Poor lonely Una, living in her fantasies."

U is for UNA who...

"It's your turn Una. Now no one will know."

He was right. There would be no obvious pattern for the police to pick up on, and if he had really killed that man in Sydney, then he was choosing victims in different areas, too.

Some of the more unusual names in the book would be difficult to track down, and his wide search for appropriate victims would further confuse the evidence of a serial murderer. But UNA wasn't hard to find at all. A befitting victim lived right next door. Someone with the right name, someone who could have figured it out if only she had paid attention to something other than her books.

If he stayed true to the rhymes, many of the deaths would look like accidents. The others might take ages to solve, particularly if he didn't leave the bodies where they could be easily found. What did he do with them? What would he do with her?

U is for UNA who slipped...

Una gripped the door handle with white knuckles. The car was moving too quickly. She would injure herself, and he would simply stop the car and get her. She needed to think... fast. She needed to remember. How did it go? How did that damned alphabet go?

U is for UNA who slipped down a drain

A drain. A sewerage drain.

Ahead, lights started flashing. A bell went ding, ding, ding in the quiet night. They were decelerating, approaching the train tracks and the lowering barrier. Here was her chance to jump out while the car slowed. She would have to run so fast. So fast. She was wearing her comfortable work shoes - she could do it. But Victor was pulling out something from beside him, next to the driver's seat. It reflected steel in the flashing lights.

The crossing bars lowered, and she impotently gripped the door handle. They came to a halt in front of the flashing lights, the knife held to her throat.

"Look at you. Frozen. You never could do much of anything, could you?"

To their right, a train appeared out of the blackness in a dark rumbling blur of machinery. The knife pressed against Una's neck as she watched it approach, and she felt so angry, so furious with herself for not figuring it out in time, for not doing anything.

You're useless! Pathetic! You should have done something! You should have known!

The humiliating words screamed in her head, louder and louder, to match the rising thunder of the train.

She wanted to scream - to cry - to do something, anything. For once, do something! The train's roar filled her ears, and a rare, reckless urge took hold of her, demanding she break free of the shackles of her passive nature. She didn't feel quite herself as she grabbed Victor's knee, shoved it across and jammed it down, his foot hitting the gas pedal. They leapt forward, tires squealing, and crashed through the flashing barrier. The black Falcon leapt onto the tracks, and within seconds the full force of the train plowed straight into them, squashing the car like an accordion.

Una felt her bones crush under the buckling steel.

Warm sunlight spread across Una's face. She was propped up against some pillows, and she let her eyes slowly shut, luxuriating in the sun like a kitty in a window. She let go of the pad of paper resting on her lap, and allowed herself to drift, the surrounding scent of laundered cotton and fresh florist's flowers filling her senses.

Una was paralysed from the waist down; a reality she found she was slowly getting used to. Luckily, her insurance money meant that she was well taken care of. She didn't have to work or do chores. She didn't have to cook or worry about bills. She could just read and write all day, everyday. It was still in the early stages, but her novel was coming along well.

The door opened. "Are you comfortable like that?" her nurse, Jillian asked.

Una nodded with her eyelids closed. She heard the door begin to creak shut again, then pause.

"Oh, yes, I almost forgot," Jillian said. "That book you wanted arrived this morning. I'll go get it."

Una's eyes snapped open.

The Gashlycrumb Tinies.

She thought of Victor again. He had died instantly in the train accident. When she was questioned, Una didn't bother to tell the police about the book or the apparent parallels in it. She would save it all for her "fiction" novel. The cops wouldn't believe her anyway, and there was no way they could prove him as a killer when people around the country had died falling down stairs, or starving themselves, or drowning, apparently by accident. They already had a suspect in the Titus corporation bomb attack, as well. They wouldn't have listened to her. She was fairly sure Vic was planning to throw her into one of the industrial sewerage drains. Would I have ever been found?

The nurse brought the package over, and Una ripped it open. She flipped through it, searching. She was pretty sure she knew what she would find.

S is for SUSAN who perished of fits
T is for TITUS who flew into bits
U is for UNA who slipped down a drain

Una flipped the page. She smiled.

V is for VICTOR squashed under a train

It seemed she knew her ABC's after all.

Copyright © 1998 Tara Moss