Marie Rales eagerly tapped the screen on her phone to get a closer look at the map.
ETA forty-nine minutes?
FUUUUCK.
Knowing damn well she was going to accept the pick-up on the Uber Eats app, Marie groaned. She needed all the money she could to pay her rent that was due next week.
This specific pick-up included delivery notes and already seemed to come with a headache kind of customer:
DELIVERY NOTES FROM CUSTOMER:
BRING FOOD THROUGH GATE AND SET ON THE ROUND TABLE ON THE BACK DECK. BEWARE OF DOG.
Accepting her destination, Marie drove to the McDonald’s, then the forty-nine minute drive to bring the brown bag of food. Hope they know the french fries I smell inside of their bag will be cold by the time I get there, she thought, turning up the volume on my stereo.
Pulling up to the address on her app, Marie continued driving down the long, dirt driveway. After a few seconds, she finally saw a small, red house come into view at the end of the drive. Parking behind an older, white Tacoma truck, Marie swung her legs out of her car.
Retrieving her phone out, she re-read the delivery instructions on her phone once again. Looking around the house, there was no fence in the back yard, nor a visible gate that she could see.
Further behind the house, Marie could see the back deck described in the notes, but in front of the walkway to the steps leading to the upper deck was a small garden full of tall, red gardening pots.
Two things about this seemed odd to Marie:
1. Why is there a garden blocking the stairs to where I was told to leave the food?
AND
2. Where was the dog that was mentioned?
Marie approached the black, garden gate that was as tall as her shoulders. The gate had a sharp, ancient-looking, design around it, coming to a point. The gate latch was rusty, and Marie had to set the food down to get the latch to budge.
Once she got the rusty latch to open, she closed the gate behind her. Marie slowly walked past all of the tall garden pots. Each one of the five pots was red porcelain and filled with dirt up to the brim.
No flowers.
No herbs.
No vegetables.
Just dirt.
Chills trickled down Marie’s body like droplets of icy sweat, causing her to walk faster through the small, creepy garden to get to the stairs. Looking closer at the fence, there was no second exit on this side of the gate to open. You couldn’t get through to the stairs unless you jumped over the tall fence.
Well this is fucking weird, Marie thought to herself. Quickly leaning closer to the edge of the pointed black garden gate, she dropped the brown bag onto the bottom step through the gate.
Good enough.
Marie jumped up at the sound of the gate closing behind her. She turned around to see a man standing with his back to her inside the garden. The fenced-in garden was nowhere near large enough for two people, plus the five garden pots inside.
Marie stared at the back of the man. As he slowly turned around, she saw he was wearing black work overalls with brown rubber boots, and a black knit cap on top of his head. If
she had to guess the man’s age, she’d assume in the 40-year-old range. His face looked a little weathered, and his expression seemed blank. The man finally parted his lips to say something.
“Thank you.” His voice was deep, but quiet when he said it. Marie eagerly nodded once at him and took to steps to the right to go around him. The man did not move out of her way. Marie pushed past him, knocking over one of the red garden pots. Dirt dumped out of the pot as Marie quickly walked through the small garden. A little louder this time, the man asked her a question.
“Do you like my garden, Marie?” he asked. The man grabbed her upper arm, stopping her from getting back to the gate.
How does he know my name? Oh, right, the app tells the customer. SHIT, I cursed myself for picking up a second job.
“I built it myself,” the man told her. Marie glanced down at her arm, pulling away from his grip.
“Sure, it’s nice,” Marie said.
Okay! Time to get the fuck out of here!
She reached over the gate to unlatch the rusty lock, but there was a pad lock over it that wasn’t there before.
“You don’t like it, do you?” the man asked. Marie jiggled the gate, hearing the lock clink against the latch. “No, I do. I just have another order to deliver. Could you unlock this gate, please?” Marie asked him. He gave her a confused look in return.
“Oh, no. You’re not leaving, Marie. I’ve got one over there waiting for you,” he told her, pointing to the back deck. There stood another red, porcelain garden pot that matched the other five inside the garden.
Marie anxiously pressed her back against the black gate as the man took another step closer to her. Peering down at the man’s side, Marie noticed a tool belt possessing one terrifying tool dangling down from it.
A saw.
Her eyes scanned down in horror to his brown, rubber boots moving closer to her with each step.
Next, she looked to the left of the man’s boots where the dirt had spilled across the ground. Emerging out of the spilled soil Marie saw the human hand poking through the dirt. The fingers on the hand were pale and drained of their color, partially buried beneath the dirt.
Marie screamed out the same time the man lunged forward at her, enclosing his hands around her throat. He squeezed tighter until she stopped. Marie’s hands flailed around trying to break his grip for the last of her breath.
Finally releasing his grip on her, Marie’s dead body fell limp to the ground. He turned around, pulling the key to unlock the padlock he’d placed on the latch.
Walking slowly around the outside of his garden, Miller Tills climbed the steps to retrieve the red porcelain garden pot and carry it back down to the garden.
Miller bent over to replace the fallen garden pot. Scooping the dirt back inside of it with his rough hands, Miller replaced the human hand to pop up and out of the dirt in the red garden pot.
Dragging Marie’s body across the dirt closer to the empty pot, Miller spread some more soil into it. He pulled out her cell phone from her pocket and held the screen up to Marie’s face to unlock the screen.
Clicking on the familiar Uber Eats app as Miller had done many times before, (five to be exact) he clicked the ORDER
DELIVERED button and dropped the phone into the overalls pocket.
After deciding which part of her was the most beautiful, Miller removed the saw from his toolbelt and began to cut off each of Marie’s ten toes. Next, he planted all of them neatly inside the red porcelain pot. Like they were seeds he’d chosen to bloom next in the human garden.
THE END
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About
I’m Jill, mom, wife, pet lover, and recently published murder mystery author. I am a very low-key person. I stay at home with my toddler and write when she’s asleep. I love reading other thriller/mystery books and doing yoga at home 2-3 times a day when I’m not playing with my daughter. Every morning we begin our day getting an energy tea, do our daily errands, and sometimes go to the library for story-time. Been happily married to my husband for going on 5 years now. We are truly meant for each other. We like to have date nights with each other, sometimes that’s just us staying up and playing Rummy together after the toddler is asleep or staying overnight with my brother.
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