The Girl in the Rayne

This disgusting town only became worse around Halloween. Going on dozens of ‘Finding Rayne’ tours was one of the few things I actually enjoyed during this awful holiday.

“Follow me and I’ll lead you to Rayne,” Our tour guide was an overweight ginger who most likely fed off government funds to get by. Strong odor rays sizzled into anyone’s nostrils that dared to get too close to his sweating, fat neck.

Children cowered behind their mothers as we passed through the entrance gate to the Rayne Trails. Little girls tied their stray hair back with silk ribbon and wore white dresses, a sick act to deface Rayne’s legend.

This would most likely be another dead end and a colossal waste of my time, but I had my best friend Tooth along with me. Marcus “Tooth” Nix was just an average kid with a wicked talent in the arts department. He was head of the Painter’s Club at the local high school.

His puckered lips caressed the ends of a fresh toothpick, which was a common habit of his. The pick easily slid into the obnoxious gap between his two front teeth. He used to be bullied a lot due to the fact of those pearly whites, but the nickname and everyone’s love for him really stuck on the student body.

I chose to become the human caboose and follow the line of ducklings, all leading up to our ginger mother. A trail of B.O. whooshed back in short bursts and was quickly replaced with pure Mother Nature.

The crunch of dead leaves and tree remains soothed me and I almost forget where we were. Bark fled from their creator tree and exposed ghastly flesh tones, only adding to the children’s anxiety. No birds chirped and no squirrels jumped from branch to branch in chattered voices. It appeared that the only living thing in this place was us.

An over exaggerated gasp silenced my moment with nature, my coal black eyes shot up. Before us was a man and woman standing before a background, which appeared to be an old house. The woman was drenched in pearls and lavish laces down to her toes. Age marks were sloppily applied to her high cheekbones. Circles of bright red blush stuck to her virgin skin like wet glue on construction paper.

The man was simply in a black suit and tie with matching pointy shoes. His graying hair was slicked back, his black moustache curled to the sky. His tanned, Italian skin dared to bare us aged hickies.

“Neil, I’m pregnant.” She spoke in a very disinterested tone.

The man, now Neil, dropped his mouth in an over dramatized O. “That’s awful news.”

“The feeling is mutual, dear husband. I want to keep our exquisite lifestyle. I do not have any desire to keep this damned child; it would only succeed in bringing us down.” She looked at her manicured red nails.

A dam of irritation overflowed and gushed into my blood stream. This was just another stupid recreation that got the facts all wrong. My face grew red as they continued to whine about a child neither of them desired.

“Nate?” Tooth placed his palm on my shoulder and gently squeezed.

My eyes darted to the group, which was now proceeding to the next scene. The woman and Neil made their way behind the scene. Mushy sounds of their lips meeting in a sloppy embrace brought me back to reality.

“It’s just another dead end.” I said through clenched teeth.

“You’re such a pessimist, dude.” Tooth chuckled and chewed on his toothpick casually. He walked away from me and flashed his neon colored Nike’s that were covered in a thin layer of earth. His gray jeans covered his black laces that plastic heads into the outside world. A black V-Neck adorned his sculpted chest. His dirty blonde hair tickled the back of his neck, curling slightly at the ends.

I grunted and jogged to catch up with the rest of the group.

“Wow!” A girl of about seven exclaimed as she laid eyes on the next scene.

A hospital room full of antique medical supplies stared back at me. A different woman, with a messy bun and water splashed on her face, huffed and puffed. The pillows under her stomach quivered as she ‘pushed’.

A new, younger Neil watched over his wife as he had a Pall Mall in the delivery room. He seemed unaffected that his only wife was now in labor, not with just any child, but his only child. His eyes seemed far too fixated on the fake nurse’s chest as she sat in front of his wife.

Stereos cranked the sound of a baby crying and from under the sheet above her legs, a doll appeared. Its arms were twisted upwards in an excited motion, encouraging the children to cheer at its birth.

“It’s a girl.” The nurse howled.

The woman frowned and snapped her fingers angrily, forgetting the last nine months easily. “Neil, take this thing away.”

Neil came to her side and took the doll from the nurse’s fingers. His shoes clanked against the fake tile floors and he jumped off the stage into the darkness. He disappeared behind the scene and lights dimmed.

Did each scene get slightly more technologically advanced?

“One scene to go,” The ginger spoke, leading us into another direct hit of his B.O.

With clenched fists I followed and attempted to keep my cool. Tooth sensed my obvious annoyance and elbowed me. As I met his dirty brown eyes I saw years of abuse and neglect shining back at me. If you didn’t know him like I did, you would never have guessed what his family did to him over the course of his sad life.

Fog machines sputtered to life like an old car engine, cranking the scent of fresh, artificial mist. This was the part of the story that always made me cringe, reminding me why I was so drawn to the legend in the first place.

An old and poorly constructed bridge creaked under the weight of the woman and yet another Neil. In her hands was the doll from before, its little eyes were closed tightly like it didn’t want to see what happened next. Crickets chirped and frogs croaked below.

“I despise the rain, husband.” She said in an over dramatized British accent.

An antique umbrella popped open and Neil held it over his wife’s head like it was his job. “What shall we name this monstrosity? All children do need names after all.”

Tooth fiddled with the toothpick in his mouth. He seemed so intrigued, this was the part where everyone, and I mean everyone, was hypnotized by the story. If they could pull this off right those actors would go home with a nice pay raise.

“What shall we name our daughter?” He asked as he stared up at the moon.

She put a red nail to her puckered lips and pretended to be deep in thought. Her eyes popped open as she got an idea. “We hate this child, so why not name it something we hate?”

“Like the rain?” He chimed in.

She nodded happily. Her arms loosened slightly, leaving one of the doll’s feet exposed. As she fiddled over the way to spell her child’s name, she didn’t even realize when he dropped the baby over the side of the bridge. Worse yet, she didn’t even seem to care as the child blared shrieks and squeals as it dove into the water, never to resurface again.

The children cried out in fear. “Mommy, please don’t ever do that to me.” A little girl pleaded with her mother.

I had had enough at this point. As the crowd cheered and applauded the terrible acting, I waited for it to become silenced. “You have it all wrong.” I said aloud.

Ginger duck stared at me. “What was that boy?”

“You heard me,” I said as I crossed my arms over my chest.

“We have nothing wrong about this story.” Neil said with an irritated voice.

Tooth kicked my shin as a signal to shut up. But, I wasn’t going to back down. Someone had to tell these people that they had just defaced the most amazing legend I had ever heard.