The Hovering Blade
By Mercedes Lawry. Published on March 25, 2023.
Jaz talked in a rat-tat-tat manner and we made fun of him behind his back but we played with him because he had a knife. Nobody else did. His knife had two blades and a fake pearl handle and was heavier than it looked. Jaz didn’t bring out his knife for our entertainment all that often, no matter how much we begged. We didn’t know if Jaz’s parents even knew about the knife – he didn’t tell us where it came from but he did say it was his destiny to have it. We didn’t really know what that meant but Louie said God meant for him to have it which didn’t make sense because why would he? But as long as we could hold it and cut something every once in a while, we didn’t really care. Kevin’s mom was going to take us to the zoo but she could only fit 5 in her car so we decided not to tell Jaz but Raul’s little sister spilled the beans and Jaz was angry, not in a loud, shouting sort of way but in a quiet, simmering way that was somehow, threatening.
We were down behind the elementary school on a Saturday when he suddenly appeared, holding the knife up so it glinted in the sun.
“You know,” he said, “this could be a murder weapon.”
Nobody said anything and then Louie snorted.
“You think that’s funny?” Jaz said, taking a step closer.
“You got the guts?’ Louie asked and then Raul said, “You wanna spend the rest of your life in prison? That’s just dumb.”
“It wouldn’t be forever,” Jaz sniffed. “I’m a juvenile.”
“They can treat juveniles like adults, if the judge says so,” Raul went on. “Happened to my cousin.”
“You shoulda wore gloves,” Louie called out. “No fingerprints.”
“So what are you, a CSI expert?’ Jaz said. “Besides, I might not use it today but I might surprise you sometime. Like when you’re sleeping.”
In the silence you could hear a truck changing gears. Even though we were pretty sure Jaz was bluffing, each of us decided we’d double check our window locks at night.
“And if you think I’m kidding, take a look at this.” Jaz reached into a bag he was carrying and pulled out what looked like a ball of fur. He tossed it toward us and we all jumped.
“What’s that?” Louie sneered, “your grandma’s wig?”
“It’s a cat,” I said, leaning down for a closer look. “It’s the Emersons’ cat.”
“Used to be,” Jaz laughed.
“So you killed it?” Raul asked.
“What do you think?” Jaz turned and walked away.
We went over to the cat and poked and prodded. It was dead alright. “Are there stab wounds?” Louie asked. “Maybe he just found it like this, maybe it was hit by a car or a raccoon got it.”
“Maybe,” I said.
“We should take it to the Emersons, so, you know, they won’t wonder where it is and stuff.” Raul had this streak of goodness in him sometimes.
“We’ll get blamed,” Louie whined. “And I’m sure as hell not touching it.”
Raul picked up the bag Jaz had dropped and went over to the cat. “We’ll leave it in the yard, so they can find it.”
“In the bag?” Louie asked. “What about fingerprints?”
“OK, not in the bag,” Raul said. “Who’s gonna care about a dead cat though. Come on.”
So that’s what we did and in a couple of weeks things went back to the way they were with Jaz. We didn’t ask about the knife anymore. My guess is his parents found it and took it away. But whenever we heard about a missing pet, we wondered...how could we not wonder?
Mercedes Lawry has published short fiction in several journals including, Gravel, Cleaver, Garbanzo, and Blotterature and was a semi-finalist in The Best Small Fictions 2016. She’s published poetry in journals such as Poetry, Nimrod, & Prairie Schooner and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize several times. She’s published three poetry chapbooks as well as stories and poems for children. Her collection, Vestiges, was recently released by Kelsay Books. Her collection Small Measures will be published in 2024.
