This one had taken a while. He liked her blue eyes, blonde hair. Her eyes had matched her pants today. Like Dorothy. That was cute. But she didn't have a Toto to look after. He was sorry about that. She didn't have make-up on this time, he missed it. She didn't wear it normally, but he had liked it. She should have worn it more often. Really brought out her eyes, her tan skin. Geronimo shivered. He really loved her skin.
It had only been a month. Hard to believe, but there it was. His calendar ticked off the days, one by one. He was home now. Clean and happy. The clock on the mantle piece chimed. 11:30 p.m. A record. He straightened his knees and let his hands fall to the floor in front of him. The muscles in his calves stretched thin, blood warming his legs.
She used to do this every morning. Wake up to a popular song by an indie rock band with funny hair cuts and dour expressions blaring on her phone, breaking the silence of her room. He had really loved the silence, just before she woke up. He could almost taste it. The sawdust in the cracks of the floorboards, the apple cinnomen flavor of her shampoo, the crinkled Wizard of Oz poster on the wall. On her fuzzy rug by the window in the corner she would stretch up, up, up to the sky. Then with a whoosh her hands would fall and she would tumble, knees locked until her hands rested by her toes. One leg would go back, the other bend forward, hands upright as if in prayer for her balancing act. He did the same now, felt the warmth course up his thigh. He balanced, a deep breath in, a deep breath out.
She had been a good girl, her grades were high and her friends sincere. She had a kitten that she loved to play with, a little brother that thought he was Superman. He would come running in to her room on Sunday mornings with a special red cape she had made him last Christmas and jump on top of her. "WAKE UP TIME!!!" He would shout in that little boy way, giggling too much for breath. She would growl and pretend to be a tiger, tickling him until he ran downstars to Mother for mercy. Geronimo switched legs, balanced through the burn. Deep breath in, deep breath out.
She hadn't seen him the first time, lagging behind her mother in the supermarket. It had been an accident. He wasn't supposed to be out on Wednesdays. But he had needed strawberries. He had to have his strawberries. She was walking down the sixth aisle, comparing boxes. He hadn't meant to look. But her hair. It was bright, and golden. It was a tangled wild mane all the way to her hips. And when she had turned around, Geronimo shivered again. Almost lost balance. That skin, soaked in sunlight. Under the fluorescents it blinded him. He knew then.
Following them home had been easy. Finding a place to hide even easier. He had stolen her poster, right off her wall. Dorothy smiled at him now, Toto by her side.
She never saw him as the calendar ticked away. Not until that accident at her school dance. She had been wrapped in a shiny purple sheath, so much skin. Her mirror was painted with hearts and arrows. Troy and Charlotte in curlicues around a picture of a boy taped to the top left corner. She smiled at him as she put on her earrings, painted her eyes and lips. Showtime. He was here.
Geronimo only had to take a tray and serve. No one ever asked questions. He was slight, young. No piercings or tattoo's. His only scar hidden behind his ear. He hadn't meant too. But he had handed her a drink. She had smiled. Deep from her soul smiled. Her bright blue eyes swallowed him. For a moment, he was scared. Maybe she knew? She looked happy. That boy from the picture had a hand around her waist. He whispered in her ear and she had giggled. She wished Geronimo a nice night before moving away.
Geronimo straightened his legs and stood. He stretched up, up, up and then let himself tumble down until his hands rested by his toes. It had been easy after that. She had been walking home from the corner store down the street, a bag filled with snacks dangling from one arm. She had wanted to go on a date, but her mother wouldn't let her. Instead, he was coming over for a supervised dinner. She slouched, dragged her feet. Her anger had been felt all through the house. She was grown up now. She could go out on a Saturday. Her mother said no. It was too dangerous. He was a boy, and Mother knows about boys.
She had tried to scream, but it was a lifeless thing. Only 1 minute and 45 seconds passed before they left. She was unconscious in the back, hair splayed across the seat in a fountain. The sun had stayed with her, stuck to her skin. Geronimo shivered. What beautiful skin. It had taken her 1 hour and 27 minutes to wake up. They had made very good time. She was groggy, slow. Once he got her running though, she was fast as lighting. She had been a star on the track team at school. She knew how to run. Her hair had flowed behind her as she ran. Bounced up and down off from the shoulders of her thin t-shirt. She couldn't outrun him, but she tried. Geronimo crossed one arm over the other, pulled until he felt the burn.
He hadn't been to the pier before. He was surprised she had found it. She must have been very smart. She had run in zig-zags through the trails. He almost lost her once. Almost. If she had found the family toasting marshmellows a quarter of a mile to her left. Geronimo shook himself. He smacked the bad thoughts out. His hands came away red.
It had taken 3 hours and 16 minutes for her to slow down. By then, it was dark. The sun had left her, but her skin still glowed. She was his beacon. She had run to the end of the pier. There were no boats to jump into. No way to hide. It was quiet. They were alone. He had been very happy. She had been his. The skin of her face was flushed, her breathing hard. Her eyes had been bright, alive. "I know you!" She had shouted. He didn't like her shouting. It made him mad. He just wanted to touch her hair, to soak the sun from her skin. She wouldn't let him. She had broken two of his fingers. She had bitten him. She had been bad.
11:45 p.m. Geronimo shook his arms out, stretching his head this way and that. Bedtime. He climbed in. Curled his arms around his knees. Next to him lay a doll, it's golden skin soaked in sunlight. Geronimo smiled.
