Sunbeam kid


The girl on the billboard blinked, her face a mixture of innocence and menace. “This can't be happening,” Doug thought. “Leave me alone!” The girl giggled as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “I've been drugged,” he said out loud, “I'm going mad, I'm dreaming, I must be dreaming, you're NOT REAL!” Doug’s car suddenly swerved off the road and spun across the dusty earth, flipping twice, almost silently, and landing face down with a bang on the sloping hedge off the highway. His nose had cracked and burst. He lost consciousness for a moment. When his eyes flickered open he felt an unspeakable pain creep slowly up from his feet to his legs to his waist, and he screamed in terror as he realised his body was on fire.


* * * * *


Miss Bradshaw ate her lunch quietly and alone, in the dining room, at 12:30. Two beef paste sandwiches, cut triangularly, an apple, and a small glass of milk. The child would normally be napping, post lunch and post learning; however today he was being a brat. A heavy bang from above rattled the dining table and Miss Bradshaw marched upstairs to the boy’s bedroom. A chest of drawers lay tipped on its front. Miss Bradshaw grabbed him by the shoulders. The boy spat in her face. “You nasty little bastard!” she shouted, as he dashed out of his room towards the staircase. Miss Bradshaw was quick and as she reached out to grab him, she pushed him hard and watched him tumble down the stairs like an out of control slinky. Silence filled the house. Miss Bradshaw descended the stairs and carefully felt for a pulse, which did not come. Calmly walking over to the telephone, she dialled for an ambulance and, with a slightly hysterical tone, explained the boy had fallen to his death.


* * * * *


Detective D. Marshall was crouched below the billboard, observing the tire marks in the hot earth. This was the second fatal road accident here in a month. First it was Jerry Bennett, only a month after his kid drowned in a fishing accident. Marshall looked up; a stream of cars had slowed along the highway as folks tried to get a closer look at the crash. “Rubberneckers”, he thought. Police officers waved them along. Marshall walked up towards the road in order to get a fuller view of the billboard: “Sunbeam Bread: Kids really love it best!” Marshall thought about his own kids eating their toast this morning before school. There was nothing unusual or distracting about the billboard, just the Sunbeam kid eating her bread. He walked back to the crash. A body had been removed and zipped up in a black bag. An officer Marshall recognised walked over to him. “Anything?” he asked. The officer handed Marshall a driving license: Annie Bradshaw. The Jamesons’ nanny.


* * * * *


Patrick Delaware knew he had to get away from town. He'd left work suddenly, raced home to pack a bag, and was now on the highway with his thumb out, trying not to look insane or guilty. Doug had tried to reason with him but there was no point. They were gonna get caught, and the clock was ticking. A lorry pulled up and Patrick hopped in.

“Where ya headed?” the driver asked.

“Wherever you are.”

“I’m headed south through Florida.”

“Perfect.”

He rolled the window down and relaxed, watching Danville disappear from view, cool air on his red face. He squinted when he saw the figure on the upcoming Sunbeam billboard move. As the lorry got closer he saw a child's face - Brandi's face - laughing directly at him. The lorry driver hadn't seemed to notice. Brandi was singing, her words unclear but the melody was unmistakably “One, Two, Buckle my shoe”. Patrick yanked the steering wheel in a flash of uncontrolled panic, causing the lorry to veer onto the sloping ditch and tumble clumsily and heavily onto its side before crashing against one of the barriers. 


* * * * *


Paranoia had seeped into Detective Doug Marshall like a cancer, and he felt the panic rise to his mouth. It tasted bad. Four bourbons in, he decided to call it a night and placed a few notes on the bar, grabbed his coat and walked to his Ford Custom. Brandi’s death had been an accident. We weren't meant to kill her. Patrick's death, although it saddened him, meant he was free. And yet something bothered him about the crashes. Patrick; the Jameson's nanny; Jerry Bennett. All dead below that God damn billboard. Doug fiddled clumsily with his keys before eventually starting the engine, and decided to take a late night visit to the billboard. As he approached it he saw it. He saw the Sunbeam kid move, and Brandi's face appeared, blinking and laughing like a lunatic in the sky. That’s when he lost control and the car flipped and he busted his nose. When he gained consciousness he realised his legs were on fire and he was trapped under the weight of his police car. Screaming in terror, the last thing he heard was the faint, warped laughter of the Sunbeam kid as she sang “One, Two Brandi's coming for you…”