Saturday Short: Watching Mushrooms

photograph of mushrooms growing in a pile on the ground

Evelyn loved storms. She loved the way the thunder rolled across the valley. It was like the wind had transformed its motion into sound. She loved how it reverberated against her chest and made the windowpanes shake. She loved the lightening that came after and counted to see how far away it was, how long she had to wait for the eye of the storm to settle in the valley. It made even the shadows of the well-worn buildings in her village new. And, she loved the rain. The winter deluges that swept away the hardpacked dirt from the sidewalks and the dust from the roofs.

Evelyn loved every part of the storm, except for what it birthed. She hated the toadstools and mushrooms that sprouted after the storm passed, like stowaways in the ground making a break for it. She knew other people loved this aftereffect of the storms better than the storms themselves, but she thought they were mad.

Evelyn knew what came with the toadstools and mushrooms, even if no one else believed her.

A huge mound of mushrooms sprung up alongside the path she had to walk to the library and she glared at it as she passed. It looked like nothing more than a lump of brown gills, like cauliflower that had gone off, but she knew it hid a secret that she’d glimpsed when she was but a child of seven and she refused to ever eat mushrooms again.

“I see you,” she whispered as she walked passed. “I will watch you.”

No one and nothing answered her, but after she turned and was almost out of sight of the mushroom mound it shivered and shook, like it was waking up from a nap. And a dozen mud-stained eyes followed Evelyn until she disappeared around the bend in her path.

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