James drew four boxes on a page of graph paper and connected the boxes with some lines. Then he drew some more lines in light blue ink, and some circles. He took a fine, gold-tipped fountain pen from the pocket of his brown dinner jacket and drew a small seahorse inside each box, the fourth one with a unicorn horn. The 87 Pacific clattered by outside the window, sounding a shrill whistle. There was also a woman’s voice calling something. James thought he heard his name. He set down his pen, heading to the window. He drew open the blinds and pushed up the sash. The world outside was humid and green. A woman stood below the window, face glowing in the twilight. Her grey dress was decorated with a pattern of purple and red orchids. She extended her bare arms up towards him. Quickly! she said, with a glance back in the direction the train had gone.

James reached out the window and took hold of her small, moist hands. He held tightly so she wouldn’t slip out of his grasp. Her hands in his, she stepped her high heels against the stucco below the window until she reached the top. When he’d gotten her inside she dropped down into his chair. Who drew this? She asked, looking at the lines and boxes and sea horses. You?

Just then Mermachree burst through the door. Did you hear anything strange? Mermachree asked. We heard some things. From the train! There was somebody out back. Did you see anything funny? James looked over at his desk. The woman had disappeared. Maybe she was hiding behind it? I heard, James started. I heard… heard, uh… a whistle.

The whistle of the train. Of course. But any voices?

Well, I suppose I heard voices, probably people in the dining car.

You wouldn’t have heard that. Mermachree glanced at the drawings on the desk. Who drew those?

I’m not sure… I—

What do you mean? Mermachree paused. I was just about to praise the artist. Hey, relax James. It’s Friday. He patted James on the shoulder. But then Mermachree coughed and spat and collapsed right there on the floor. The woman revealed herself from the shadows. She placed a bloody butter knife on James’ desk.

James looked down at Mermachree. He dropped down on one knee and turned Mermachree’s body over but it had gone cold and stiff. Blood spread on the dark hardwood.

I’m taking these, the woman said, lifting the drawings carefully from the desk and folding them into squares. Then she was gone out the door.

James stood and pulled some tissues out of a box to wipe Mermachree’s blood off his hands. He pulled his cell-phone from the charger and entered 9-1-1. But before he got through to a dispatcher he’d put down the phone and was climbing out of the window, lowering himself down to the gravel by the train tracks. Another 87 Pacific train moved slowly past. At just the right moment he jumped half onto a flatbed train car. He swung his legs up and held on as the train accelerated. The whistle blasted, sounding like an alarm. Lying on his back he took a nail and scraped Mermachree’s blood from under his fingernails. When he was satisfied he’s gotten all the blood off he closed his eyes. The train rattled on, taking him further and further away from his usual desk and the cell phone that wouldn’t stop ringing.

Stattin wore a yellow raincoat to protect what was left of him. His face was puffy and bleached but under his mac his body was bones and gore- fatty tissue and knotty intestines barely hanging on. To see him walking through the woods you just thought, There’s a guy wearing a yellow raincoat, maybe a fisherman. But there’s no place to fish in these parts anymore- the rivers have become mud and in the middle of what was the lake there is a wide mucky hole that goes down for miles into the earth.

I used to think I heard woodsmen cutting with chainsaws out in the trees- a common sound when I was a boy- but the industrial grinding was Stattin- that’s how his ruined voice came out. He’d make those horrible noises and slap his limp hands against the tree trunks, dragging his rubber boots through the dry leaves.

One day Stattin had a friend- it was a girl, a beautiful girl. He sculpted her out of mud and clay and river muck and shaped her body so it looked like she was resting on Sunset Rock. She was truly a beauty. Her lips were red, colored by poisonous berries pulled from brambles. She had a mysterious smile that cast a hypnotic spell on anyone who looked long enough. Stattin looked and looked and dropped to his jagged knees in front of her. She’s the one who would tell him to do things.

Later, after all the bloodshed I thought back to those evenings as the sun was setting when I’d see Stattin silhouetted, kneeling there before the sensuous mud goddess, listening, listening to a beautiful velvet voice soothe him and command him.

I was only about fourteen when I went into the woods alone to see the mud girl up close. I stood beside her, nearer than I’d ever stood to any girl. I asked her, What did you tell Stattin? What’s he gonna go do for you? And she stared back at me, grinning. I closed my eyes and felt her soft fingers stroke the sleeve of my jacket. I heard a soft voice whisper just like the hiss of a snake.

Then I took off running, tearing down the hill, sharp tree branches ripping at my face as I got lower and lower into the valley, not stopping until I was at my own doorstep and could smell stew and cornbread cooking on the other side of the front door.

With my hand on the door handle, I glanced back over my shoulder at the dark hill with its thin branches silhouetted against the blackening sky. Then I slipped into our house and bolted the door behind me.

In the middle of the night I heard that terrible grating chainsaw-wail and looked out the window to see an unnatural glow up by Sunset Rock. I could just make out the shadow of Stattin returning, dragging a heavy sack behind him.

When the glow finally faded the cicadas lulled me into a half-dream where I imagined myself dancing with the mud girl. I kissed her stained red lips and tasted the poisonous juice on my tongue, all the while listening for the terrible sound of Stattin returning, an unfortunate lump in a dirty burlap sack dragging behind him.

Caught myself thinking life was not so bad. I’m sitting on a plane wearing silk shorts instead of pants. I have a tinfoil helmet on, with the eyes cut out. Some green slippers from Bali. None of this is illegal. Either that, or no one in the airline industry cares anymore. When I turn my head I’m always a little afraid part of my helmet will fall off- the construction is rather flimsy. Now- is someone going to tell me to put my shirt back on? Apparently not. Even the professor in the seat next to me is not looking- he’s too focused on his little tablet world over there.

Why is no one else laughing at this movie? When I see something funny I laugh –out loud. Sometimes I’ll like hit the seat in front of me if it’s really funny. Is no one allowed to laugh at something?

The first thing you have to do when you get on a plane is take your shoes off. I’m doing that right now. Try to grip the carpet with your toes.

Look, I’m going to take a walk. We’ll see how well this goes over. What, are they going to arrest me for wearing a tin helmet? Listen, professor, I’m going to need to step over your little tablet party.

Something’s wrong though. I think I forgot my cell phone back in the airport bathroom. Otherwise I’d be taking a selfie right now with my lovely fellow flyers.

Oh, it’s so quiet now without my headphones plugged in. Cable just swinging as I navigate down the aisle. I think these big headphones are helping to keep the helmet on actually. Okay let me interview some of these people. Hello, miss, is this seat taken? Yes? Well maybe your “husband” won’t mind if I ask you a few questions. Did you just say you were going to pepper-spray my face? Well I know you’re not because we’re on an AIRPLANE. You don’t pepper-spray in close quarters. Plus I have a HELMET on. And that —AAEEEIIIIEEEEE!!! My fucking eyes!! You’re killin’ me! Stop spraying that! Stop spraying that! …MAN!!

Okay, I’m in pain but I’m calming down. Calming down. Where did she go? I close my eyes for a second and she’s gone.

Now wait a second, where is everyone else from this part of the plane? Where did they all go? Okay, well watch this. I’m pressing the flight attendant button repeatedly. When someone gets here I’m going to ask for some coffee and a slice of pie. All I need is some coffee and pie to enjoy my life for once.

Now this started out as a good day. Actually no, I’m lying. It started out as a terrible day. I kind of had a fit. Let’s just say I did a lot of things I’ll pretty much regret the rest of my life. So yes, started bad then turned good when I found this tinfoil.

You know, I’m just going to sit here and wait. Sooner or later someone is going to have to bring me some coffee. If not, I’ll demand a refund. You know, I’m kind of coming down now. First I was up here, then I was plateauing, then I started coming down. This helmet is sweaty and it’s cutting into my face. It’s these headphones that are so annoying. Get these headphones off me! That’s better.

Listen, it’s getting a little creepy. I think I just saw someone peek from behind that curtain. They’re leaving it kind of dark over here –I know why. Silver headgear looks way better in the dark. Especially if you just had to throw it together the day of.

Why do I feel like we’re landing?

Why do I feel like I’m being surrounded by a bunch of cops? Maybe because I am. Well, it’s been nice talking to you. We’ll have to get together at some other juncture- some time when I’m not being dragged down the aisle by a bunch of pimple-faced teenagers in SWAT gear. Look, let’s talk then –okay?