A Box of Fish Hooks

When I was a kid I used to play down by the creek that was behind my house. I’d throw rocks, play with plastic army men, make little houses out of mud and sticks having them sink into the creek. On a particular hot day in July when I was about nine I was sitting by the edge of the creek. I had my feet in the water trying to cool down as the day was unbearably humid. I had my eyes closed and didn’t hear her walk up. “Hello” I heard an older voice say. I open my eyes and see a thin middle aged woman wearing a thin white dress, walking barefoot carrying a box under an arm. I recognized the box as a fishing tackle box that looked similar to my dad’s only a different color. I thought it was strange that she had a tackle box but no fishing poles.

“Hey lady.” I asked “How are you going to fish if you don’t have any poles?” She smiled at me and made eye contact. I wish she hadn’t. Being as young as I was I didn’t quite understand it, but I felt an slightly scared when I looked into those eyes. There was just something so fake about the happiness in them. It was like staring into the plastic eyes of a stuffed animal, they were made to look happy, but wasn’t the real thing. Her mouth was stretched into a grin that slightly quivered. She spoke in a hushed, smokey voice of fragile composure.

“Oh no little boy, I’m not fishing, I’m using this for something very special.” They way she said that last part really sent alarms off even for a child as young as I was. She said it with a girlish giggle that sounded more like a recording, an imitation. I didn’t want to ask what it was and began to walk away. Then she spoke again. “I was going to do it by myself but I think I need a little helper.” Her eyes got wider and she started to walk towards me.

“No that’s okay” I shouted and ran away from the woman into my house and locked the door. I told my mom about it and she went outside but the woman was already gone. A few days later my mom approached me with a worried look on her face and showed me a picture she cut out of the news paper.

“Honey that woman you saw on Tuesday. Was this her?” She showed me a photo of a woman standing with a man by a house both of them with ear to ear smiles. It was her without a doubt, those blank eyes were not something you can forget. I said

“Yes she was.” I made a frightened face and my mom looked down dropping the photo, and hugged me.

“Oh honey I would never let anyone hurt you” She cried. I was confused but was glad she was comforting me. My mom had a police officer come talk to me. The officer and I played with my action figures for awhile while we talked. He asked me about the lady, I told him the same story I told my mom, and I saw the same worried expression my mom had.

“Wow she sounds really scary” he said the way adults do when they talk to children. He showed me a photo line up of various women’s ID photos and asked me if I can pick her out. I immediately do as she is the only one with a smile.

“She kept smiling at me, that smile looked. . . wrong.” When I told the officer this he froze and went a little pale for a second.

“Yes it must have been very scary, but you sound very smart for being able to get away from her.” He said in that same adult tone to please children.

“Who is she?” I asked serious. The cop paused and looked at me in sorrow.

“She was hurt very badly and we needed to talk to you to know when you saw her so we can guess when she got hurt.” That answer satisfied me and I didn’t ask about it any more. A few weeks later the local police department sent me a certificate for a Junior P.I for my help with the case. My parents said they were very proud of me but they’d often still glance at each other with that same worried look whenever I brought it up. Soon after they forbid me to go to the creek alone. Years later I’m in college getting my masters in Criminal Justice, and working as a file clerk at the local police department part time. One day I run into the same officer that talked to me that one day at a mutual friends birthday party. He was already long retired but still remembered me. We begin to talk when I bring up my certificate jokingly and asked if he remembered that case. He went silent and looked down at his drink.

“Yeah I remember that one alright.” He got up and motioned me to follow him somewhere more private. Outside he lit up a cigarette and told me the story. That woman was a recent divorce whose husband she discovered was cheating on her for a much younger woman. He said that when they interviewed her friends she still continued to be chipper and everyone thought she was just being optimistic. She lived about a mile from my house but by the same creek. Her husband loved to fish as a hobby.

That day just an hour before I saw her she broke into her ex husbands home, found his new wife on the bed sleeping, and strangled her with a cord before stealing her husbands tackle box. The officer began to shake when he explained what she did next. She climbed up into a tree, sitting on a branch she opened the tackle box. Taking out all the hooks she threaded fishing lines through them and tied them to the same end of the branch. After she tied about ten hooks on fishing lines, she took them all in her hand. She swallowed all of the hooks and jumped off the branch. The coroner estimated that she was hanging there for half an hour before she bled to death.

“But the worst part” The officer now almost in tears stammered to say. “was that smile, even dead she still had on a fucking smile. Blood everywhere, her eyes were rolled back till you only saw the whites, but she still had a big ear to ear smile” After hearing this I immediately thought what she would have done to me and what I would have seen if I agreed to be her “helper”.