Originally published in Twisted Tongue Magazine issue #15

McEnroy could not believe his luck. Just as he was about to call it a day and try his odds at the shopping mall, the Lord delivered a gift right into his lap. Or at least that’s where it would end up once he lured her away from this public beach.

After scanning the numerous umbrellas and towels with his trusty pair of binoculars, McEnroy concluded the day to be a bust. The crowd was mostly older folks, comprised of twenty-something couples and frat boys trying to impress the scattered groups of sorority sisters with their football passes. But hunting on a weekday was always more difficult. McEnroy would have waited till Friday afternoon but the urge had come again, unexpectedly and ultra-aggressive as always. And like McEnroy himself when he confronted his prey, the urge never took no for an answer. So here McEnroy was: hopelessly searching for a pair of children playing hooky.

It was just as he was about to slam the door of his car in frustration that he overheard the mother speaking to her child. They were standing behind their oversized SUV to McEnroy’s left. Out of sight but not out of earshot.

“I have to go the bathroom!” the little girl whined.

“Can’t you hold it? We’ll be back to the hotel in ten minutes.”

“But I have to go nooow!”

McEnroy smirked at the drawn out last word. So precious.

“Madison, please.” The mother sounded tired and cranky, probably just having woken up from a long nap that had begun as sunbathing. “We have to wait for your father to get back from making his phone call. I can’t go anywhere till he gets back or else he won’t know where we went.”

“But I’m gonna have an accident!”

McEnroy licked his lips. He could tell where this was going.

The mother sighed. “Okay, Madison, listen to me. See that green building over there? Those are the bathrooms. I’ll let you go by yourself if you promise to be quick and come right back. I’ll be watching you the whole way there. Can you promise me?”

McEnroy could hear the little girl’s slapping flip-flops as she jumped up and down. “I promise! I promise! Can I go now? Pleeease?”

There was no answer but McEnroy assumed the mother must have nodded her head “yes” for the child took off at full speed.

“Madison, wait!”

The child immediately responded with an annoyed “What?” A second later, the rhythmic flip-flop grew louder as she returned to the SUV.

The mother spoke again, this time much quieter. McEnroy had to strain but he could just make out her whisper, “If a stranger comes up to you, only trust them if they say the secret word. You remember what the secret word is, right?”

Without hesitation, the child answered: “Marmalade.”

McEnroy’s exhilarated heart sprang into his throat. His stomach mamboed with pure excitement.

Ah, the secret word: the irrefutable code between a child and a stranger, the ultimate symbol of safety and trust. To think McEnroy had been pleased to discover the child’s name.  But to know a child’s secret word…

The prize was his for the taking.

The little girl ran off again, only to have her mother yell “Walk, please! You’re in a parking lot!” The girl obeyed. Good. This would give McEnroy some extra time, but he still had to move fast. Fortunately, the veteran predator had long since need to plan his actions. He now operated on habit, seasoned instincts taking care of the unexpected.

McEnroy flipped open his cell phone and stood up, using his other hand to block the sun as he made a panoramic sweep of the lot. “I’m at the car!” McEnroy shouted to ensure the mother would hear him. “I said I’m at the car! Where are you?” He allowed a beat of silence to make his performance more convincing. “Where are they? The green…oh! I see it. No, don’t move. I’ll come pick you up.” The phone flipped shut and the car’s engine purred to life. There. Suspicion extinguished.

***

McEnroy brought the car past the restrooms just as Madison pulled open the door. As he swung the wheel around the back of the building, he silently prayed for another blessing: a rear doorway.  A moment later his prayer was answered.  There was a second entrance, this one facing the beach and impossible to view from where the parents’ vehicle was parked.

Perfect.

As was McEnroy’s parking space, behind two very large rusty black dumpsters.  He couldn’t see any part of the car as he looked back over his shoulder, now having briskly walked half the distance to the restrooms.  A few more steps and the door handle found his grip. He prayed the little girl hadn’t beaten him back outside.

McEnroy swung the rear entrance open and immediately realized he’d arrived not a moment too soon.

“Madison!” The girl spun around as she had been surprisingly caught in a mischievous act.  The startled expression instantly turned to one of confusion when she did not recognize the man who was addressing her.

McEnroy did not hesitate. It was method acting at its finest. “Madison, I…oh! I’m sorry. The secret word is ‘marmalade.’ Your daddy told me to tell you that.”

Madison’s head cocked like a dog hearing a faraway bird.  Her hand fell from the door. “Who are you?”

McEnroy lips spread into a well practiced smile. It told of warmth and kindness and adult wisdom. “I’m Mr. Sheldon. I work with your father. He and your mommy had to go but he sent me to come get you.”

“Where did they go?” A hint of worry cut through the little girl’s words like piano wire.  There could not be anymore of that.

“Oh, don’t worry! There was just a mix-up at your hotel that needed to be taken care of right away. But you know what? I’m staying at the same hotel! So he called me and asked if I could come get you and to make sure I told you the secret word so you knew I was a friend.”

McEnroy could see the word break its way through the little girl’s guard and relished in its supreme influence.  It was truly remarkable: the power of language.

The magic of words.

The restroom door suddenly swung open, bringing his eyes up from the child as a heavyset woman in a one piece bathing suit came walking out into the hallway.  He brought a hand up and motioned forward. “Oh, honey, make room for the lady.” The woman gave Madison a grin and cheerfully said, “Excuse me!”

Madison took an unhesitant step towards McEnroy to allow sufficient space for the woman to exit.  Had she remained by the door, the mother might have seen her standing there. But this puppet master knew exactly how to pull the strings.

Once the door had completely shut, McEnroy moved in for the close. “If you’re all done in here, let’s go back to the hotel, okay? Your mom wants you back for dinner.” Madison nodded her head yes but immediately turned around. McEnroy slammed his hand against the door, hoping the action hadn’t been too aggressive.  The little girl shot her eyes upward.

McEnroy laughed, “Oh no, silly girl. I parked on this side.”  Madison glanced at the rear exit and back at her adult companion.  McEnroy exhaled at a sigh of relief when she said nothing but “okay” and led the way out the back.

***

“Yes, sir. She was in the restroom just like you said.” McEnroy spoke into his cell as he performed another mock conversation.  Madison walked alongside him, her tiny hand gripping his. “I’m bringing her back to the hotel right now.  We should be arriving in about ten minutes.  Yes, sir. ‘marmalade.’ Just like you said.” McEnroy pretended to say goodbye and stashed his phone back into the pocket of his tan trench coat.

“Was that my daddy?” Madison asked.

“It sure was, kiddo!” McEnroy gave the child’s hand a little squeeze. “I just called his cell and told him everything was all right. He told me to tell you how proud he was of you for being such a good girl.”

Madison said nothing back but gave a slight smirk with only half of her mouth.  Was there a hint of smugness in that expression?  McEnroy inhaled deeply to control his emotions. It wouldn’t be long now.  They were approaching his car and soon he would put the child her place.

McEnroy opened the rear passenger side door. “Okay,” he said as he gestured towards the seat. “In you go.”

Madison did not move.

McEnroy cleared his throat and spoke again. “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go see mommy and daddy.”

Again, Madison made no movement towards the seat but instead turned his head up towards the man.  “You didn’t really talk with my daddy.”

The muscles in back of McEnroy’s neck tensed violently, but he was able to hide the apprehension from his face. “What are you talking about? Of course I did! We don’t have time for games right now, Madison. Please get in the car.”

“You said you called my daddy’s cell phone?”

“Yes, sweetie. Now please…”

“My daddy ruined his phone in the ocean. He forgot it was in his pocket when he went swimming. He had to find a payphone. You didn’t call his cell.”

McEnroy tried to reply, but without words of explanation immediately coming to him, he could only bite his lip instead.  It appeared the time for talk had come to an abrupt end and now only action would finish his plan.

After taking a quick glimpse around to make sure they were still well hidden behind the dumpster, McEnroy swooped down with both arms and lifted the girl from the pavement. With his right hand firmly pressed against the girl’s mouth, the other reached into his breast pocket to retrieve his keys. The trunk popped open with a hard press of the keychain’s locking remote and Madison was dropped in a moment later.  McEnroy immediately shot his hands up to the top of the trunk to slam it down…

…when the most dreadful sounding growl he’d ever heard rumbled behind him. The only thing McEnroy could envision making such a noise was a lion-sized bulldog with rabies, and expected to see exactly that when he slowly turned around to face whatever vicious creature was breathing down his neck.  But even the darkest creation of his imagination could not prepare him for what was really bearing its teeth and drooling yellow puddles of saliva on the ground.

The animal bore a gruesome smile of needle-like teeth which resembled the horrible porcupine quills that sprouted from its back.  It stood on all four bearish paws, great black talons scratching at the concrete.  And while most of its body was covered in coarse black fur, serpentine scales armored its legs and neck.

McEnroy paid no attention to the warm sensation of his own urine flowing down his leg.  He could only focus on the creature’s blood red eyes and the collar that hung just below its throat. Only one word was inscribed on the metal tag, which Madison joyfully shouted as she emerged from the trunk.

“Marmalade!”

Madison ran past McEnroy and up to the forbidding beast who greeted her with a lick to the face. She returned the gesture by scratching the monster behind its ears before turning back to her kidnapper whom she asked, “How did you know to say the secret word to make him come?  I thought only mommy and daddy knew his name. It’s always them or me who call him to take care of bad men like you.”

McEnroy’s legs quivered as they struggled to uphold his weight.  His breaths came short and shallow, his limbs completely paralyzed with fear. He could not answer Madison’s question.

But she just shrugged. “I guess I’ll just ask my parents when I see them later.” She turned to her pet. “Okay, Marmalade! Go get your dinner! Go on!”

McEnroy never had a chance to scream.  The beast’s first slash of its claws went directly across his throat, instantly clogging his airways with blood and staining his white collar a deep crimson hue.  Only a gurgling noise could escape his mouth as Marmalade began opening his stomach.

So McEnroy lay there silently awaiting the end of his agonizing death, fully realizing the power of language and the magic of words.