The Novella Life of Illuscia Nester Himawari

    I had started running with the Marauders when I was thirteen. I know, the name makes us sound like D&D nerds trying to come up with the name for a street gang, and maybe in some ways that wasn’t too far from the truth. The four of us: Diego, Jamie, Freddy, and me, we were giant nerds, and if I’m being honest, roleplaying games in Diego’s mom’s basement was part of what brought us together in the first place and made us a group instead of four disparate kids who were bored, lonely and wanted to have fun and excitement in their lives. By the time we jokingly started calling ourselves the Marauders, we were all fourteen or fifteen—that restless age where you have more energy and curiosity than you have ways of expending or satisfying either. We started to look for fresh hobbies and thrills, new things to explore. And, over the course of one long summer of rambling around the more distant and desolate regions of our town, we found ourse

  Last night I was driving home from work when I saw a car crash up ahead. It had just happened I think—the front of the small brown sedan was cozied up to a massive cypress like it was giving it a hug, and as I slowed, I thought I could make out a thin trail of grey smoke among the gloomy twilight shadows that covered the tree line. No signs of movement, but no signs of help either. I glanced into the rearview and my heart sank. No headlights or other signs of bystanders that could share or take the burden of helping from me, and I was already wasting time, wasn’t I? Pulling onto the shoulder, I grabbed my phone as I got out. I tried to call 911, but it just buzzed and then went dead each time. Awesome. Just fucking great. Leaning back in, I turned on my emergency lights and headed down toward the car. “Hello? Anyone there?” I kept hoping I’d see them pop up from around the far side of the car or the bushes somewhere—some

  The last time I babysat, I watched someone die. I was in college, and back then babysitting was one of the best ways for me to make extra money. I’d done work-study the first semester, but the pay was really low and the hours tended to suck, and the available jobs were always the ones where you got interrupted enough that squeezing in study time at work was hard, especially once I decided to double-major and needed access to a laptop most of the time. But babysitting, once I got a good reputation as safe, responsible and willing to work on short notice, was the best of both worlds. Better pay, shorter hours, and with younger children or stricter parents, I sometimes had two or three hours of fairly uninterrupted time while the kid slept upstairs. It wasn’t always steady work, but the flexibility made it worth it, and usually I enjoyed myself too. The kids tended to be cool for the most part, and the couple of times I ran into real brats

    My Aunt Nancy mentioned the mosquito truck the first night I stayed with her. It was weird, not just that she mentioned it at all, but more the way she mentioned it. Almost as though she was cautioning me about a local mean dog that was prone to bite. “Be careful if you go out at night, honey. This neighborhood is still okay, but it’s not as safe as it once was, and a few streets over they’ve been fighting a real drug problem. And,” she added with a nervous glance toward the window, “just make sure you’re back in by midnight. About one is when the mosquito truck comes around.” I frowned at her. “You mean like one of those sprayer trucks that spray the bug poison?” She shrugged and waved away the question. “I don’t know about all that, but I do know it’s not good to be out when it comes around.” Licking her lips, she put on a smile. “Just make sure you’re home and the door is locked by then, okay?” Returning her smi

  I didn’t notice the blood when the woman got into the backseat of my car. “Thanks for the pickup.” I glanced back in my rearview mirror. We were still under the bright lights of the hospital’s front entrance, but the reflected glow still only gave me a vague idea of the woman sitting behind me. In her early forties, pretty, with intense eyes that met mine in the reflection as I spoke. “Sure thing. You didn’t say on the app where you wanted to go. Just tell me the address if you can and I’ll put it into GPS.” She nodded and looked out the window. “Um, I’m still trying to decide I guess. Can you just drive for now? I’ve only used a rideshare a couple of times, but you can do that, right? Just drive around and charge me for the distance or time or whatever?” I hit the button on my app for roaming tolls before putting the car in drive. “Yeah, sure. It’ll use my phone’s GPS to keep track of how far we go. And it will