Susie's First Roast-Short Story

Hello again, Readers. Today, I have for you another short story. This one is more recent than the others I've posted so far. I remember back in my creative writing class a nice prompt that I enjoyed doing. The premise was simple:

1. Teacher shows a picture
2. Student looks at picture
3. Student writes a short story about the picture

I really liked this exercise because you don't have to think about the world-creating as much. You already have a world in front of you. All you have to do is explain what's going on. If there's a person or two in the frame, give them a backstory. Connect them somehow. It's just a fun and easy way to practice your writing. I highly recommend it to anyone that wants to write seriously.

All that you've got to do is find a random picture on the internet to use. I like searching random paranormal or creepy pictures because I like writing scary and suspense stories. If the story leaves me sweating cold bullets, I'm a fan. I may have a screw or two loose, but oh well. 

The story I put here is one of my personal favorites. When I found the picture I was obsessed with it. So creepy, so ominous, and the people in it look horribly okay with the whole thing. I changed the look of the main figure in my story, but that's okay because the picture is merely an inspiration to the story. I hope you enjoy it. 

Susie's First Roast

“Mommy, Mommy!” Susie shouted as she ran head-fast to her mother walking toward the base of the tall hillside. She skipped and sung circles around the woman; her white cotton jacket bouncing along with every merry beat. Her already sky-high energy (thanks to a well-balanced breakfast of sugar-infused cereal) soared when she caught a glimpse of the hill from Main Street. Susie clasped her mother’s hand at an attempt to drag her up herself, but Susie’s weak, six-year-old leg muscles were not able to quicken their pace.

“C’mon, Mommy!” She shrieked, “We’re gunna miss it!”

“Relax, honey. We’re making great time.” Emily said while she readjusted the straps of her backpack with her free hand so she could close her yellow cardigan. The wind was really starting to move in from the west. She hoped it wouldn’t be too much of a problem for the Roast. She examined the cloud cover above the hill in the town center. Not enough for rain, but a mood-dampener for sure. Lost in her worries, she didn’t notice the woman calling her name from higher up the hill until she stepped directly into her line of sight.

“Oh, hi there Rachel. Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts I guess.”

Rachel was a bit heavier than Emily’s 120-pound stature, but not by much. She had dulling brown hair pulled tightly back into a short ponytail. She held a quilted blanket around her shoulders to shield the breeze. She turned and followed Emily’s gaze to the sky. “Yeah, it looks like a shitty day, but the Roast should add some nice color to everything.”

“Language please, Rachel,” Emily eyed Susie still bouncing around at her side with a comical grin on her pale face. “If you don’t mind.” She hoped her voice didn’t come out as hurtful as she thought it did.

Emily felt she was in the clear when Rachel looked down at Susie and covered her mouth with a quilted hand. “Ope, sorry about that. I didn’t even notice her.”

“I don’t doubt it. She’s been so jittery all morning she must seem like a blur.” The two women laughed. That finally had caught Susie’s attention. She waved a tiny hand at Rachel.

“Hi, Aunt Rachel.”

“Hey there, Sugar Plum.” She bent down a little and almost lost her balance from the steepness of the hill, but adjusted her stance. “Are you excited for your first Roast?”

“Yes yes yes! Mommy and I have been getting ready all week. I made my own quilt. Do y’wanna see, Aunt Rachel?”

Rachel moved her quilt covered hands to her chest in adoration. “Of course, I do sweetie.”

“Get my quilt out Mommy, pleeease!”

Emily stripped off the backpack and set it on the ground. She unzipped the largest pocket, pulled out a large and worn looking quilt made with multiple colored squares, folded it, and set it on the soft grass beside her. Next, she grabbed another quilt covered in newly constructed squares decorated with tiny rainbows. She handed that quilt to her daughter’s beckoning hands. Susie held it up to Rachel proudly as if she had actually played a part in its creation.

“Isn’t it the most beautifullest blanket you’ve ever seen?” Susie was glowing.

Rachel made an exaggerated gasp, “Oh my goodness. It is so pretty. But not as much as the girl who made it.”  Susie said thank you while Emily mouthed the words as she met Rachel’s eyes.

“Well, Rachel, it was great to see you, but we need to find a good place to sit before the ceremony starts. Dinner at my place after?”

“Sure thing Em, I’ll see you up there. I should probably get around to finding where Jeremy went anyway. I swear that boy will be the death of me. See you after the ceremony.” Emily watched her friend stride back up the hill. Her face cold and brooding. The former from the wind. The latter because of Rachel’s seemingly innocent phrase as she left to find her son.

“Look Mommy,” Susie’s voice sounded far away for a moment. When Emily returned to where she was she followed Susie’s pointer to the hill’s left, “It’s Mr. Callahan.”

 “That’s Father Callahan, Susie. He doesn’t go by Mr. Make sure you remember that.” Emily searched the passing crowd and spotted him. A tall and disturbingly skinny man. She had always thought that his body resembled a flute with arms and legs. He was speaking with an elderly woman, her hand sandwiched in between his as they spoke. Emily and Susie made their way awkwardly across the side of the hill toward the father. He helped the older woman up a few paces of the hill and spotted Emily coming his way. He smiled at her. He has the most handsome smile, Emily had always thought. Not handsome in an attractive manner. More of a loving father. I always feel so safe in his presence. Trustful.

“Ah, Emily. Wonderful to see you.” His voice was the only part of him that conflicted with the flute-like figure. It was too strong and deep to come from such a frail-looking frame. “You look lovely today.” Emily thanked him and grinned down at Susie. Callahan took notice and his lips parted to show the sparkling-white pearls. “Well I’ll be. This can’t be your Little Susie, can it Emily?” Emily couldn’t help but feel concern whenever Callahan spoke in his over-the-top southern drawl. It was almost too stereotypical and evangelical to be trusted at times.

“It sure is, Father Callahan. Say hello, Susie.”

Susie glanced up in what couldn’t have been mistaken for anything except intimidation. She waved and said, “Hello, Mr- Father Callahan.” Her tiny voice was pitched high and shook a bit at the end, but if Callahan heard it, he was a great actor. He stretched a spindly hand to the young girl. She took it with caution and shook it once up, and then back down.

“That’a girl. Y’know, Susie, I remember when your mother was your age coming to her first Roast.” He spoke mother like muhthuh.“Oh yes indeed, she was a cute one. Big ol’ eyes taking in every little bit of detail around her.” He laughed two beefy grunts. “If I think hard enough, I believe I can still hear you singing along with everyone else, Emily. You had quite the roar back then. Like a mighty lioness.” His hazel eyes went back up to Susie’s mother.

“Oh, stop it, Father. I wasn’t that loud.” Her face was turning a small shade of pink. They laughed as Father Callahan went to one knee for more of a level ground with the young girl. His voice dropped to a more serious tone, but his eyes still sparkled with youthful trust.

“Susie, have you been practicing the Roast hymn?”

At that Susie’s bashfulness flew away on the wind to be replaced with sheer excitement. “Yes yes yes! Mommy and I have been practicing reeeally hard! I know every word.”

Callahan wrapped his bony fingers around each of the girl’s shoulders. They were so long that the tips of them almost touched at the center of her back. He was still grinning. “That’s mighty fine to hear, Susie. You wouldn’t want to ruin the Roast by saying a wrong word, would you darling?”

Susie looked rattled. “No way, José! I won’t mess up. I promise!” She held out her little arm, and on her little hand was a little pinky. It stuck straight up like a lightning rod waiting for the strike.

Callahan raised his own pinky (it was nearly the length of her forearm) and hooked it with hers. “That’s what I like to hear, Little Susie. You don’t want to go upsetting your mother at the Roast, do you?”

“No sir, I don’t want Mommy to be in next year’s Roast. She’s a good mommy. The best one that has ever lived in the whole entire world!”

Callahan’s smile widened again. He stood back on his feet, patted Little Susie on her soft head (that’s a well-trained child right there, oh yes), and shook Emily’s hand. “You’ve got a good daughter, Emily. I must get ready for the Roast. You two better find some place to lay your blankets.” He turned and walked a few paces up the hill before turning over his shoulder and saying to Emily, “Keep up the good work, Emily. I’d hate to be announcing your name at a Roast.” He strode away leaving Emily covered in goosebumps and small sweat puddles on her lower back and under each arm. She regained herself and squeezed her daughter’s (my good daughter. Oh so good daughter that always behaves and will keep me safe) hand.

“Come on, Susie, we better find some empty spots.”

                        Trudging up the hill’s precipice, Emily found a good-sized patch of blanketless grass. Taking no chances, she yanked Susie to the space before it could be occupied. Emily all but leaped onto the grass to claim it before anyone else. She stood tall and mighty in her circle, waiting for somebody to test her. No one, however, took much notice to her and she smiled, triumphant.

Susie, agitated about her shoulder torture, tore the backpack from her mother’s side and unzipped it. She reached in, first pulling out her mother’s blanket and throwing it to the grass beside her. A small pinch tensed her shoulder as she tossed it. Then, she clutched her own quilt and hugged it softly to her face. Her mother showed her how to lay it down just right so you didn’t get any rocks or sticks poking you while you sat. The two of them sat on their blankets crisscross applesauce style. “Now Susie, when you see Father Callahan walking up what do you do?”

Susie answered without a second thought, “I move my knees in front of me and sit on my feet. Nice and tall.”

“That’s right. Straight and tall, and don’t forget to smile like a good little girl.” She showed her daughter how it was done. Susie mirrored her.

Emily checked her silver wristwatch and looked around at the fellow citizens sitting around her. Somehow, she and Susie managed to snag a spot closest to the top of the hill. Just as it leveled off to a nice flat top. Sitting in the center of the flat top was the roasting pit. She marveled at the nine-foot-tall teepee-like structure made of dead mix-matched tree limbs and lined with thick brown logs turned on their sides in a circle at the base. The teepee had a gap on the side facing Emily. That’s where the pig goes, she thought to herself. Remembering all the Roasts in the years before.

Her trip down memory street was cut off by her daughter tugging at the sleeve of her cardigan. She stared down at Susie and followed her extended finger down the left side of the hill where she could see Father Callahan speaking to Rachel and her son, Jeremey, while slowly making his way up to begin the ceremony. “Is it almost time, Mommy?” asked Susie from what seemed far away to Emily as she eyed the various families around her. One mother or father. Sometimes both, but that was rare. Always only one child. That’s never changed. Emily couldn’t even imagine what would happen if two children from the same family were to show up. But she didn’t have to imagine it because it would never be. And that was that.

Emily wasn’t sure what happened to the orphaned children. The ones who had lost both of their parents. A truly bad child such as that would need to be punished to quite an extent. But again, that was none of her concern. All she needed to worry about was her own child’s upbringing. As long as Susie had learned from her last mistake (And Emily had made sure that Susie got a lesson she wouldn’t forget anytime soon, you can bet on that) then Emily could continue living her ignorant carefree life. Safe from any ill thoughts and worries.

She again found herself away in her thoughts, and almost didn’t realize that Father Callahan was almost to the Roasting Pit. She saw that Susie had already moved into the right sitting position and was making a look at her to do the same quickly. What a good little girl I have. She sat on the heels of her feet and waited faithfully for the old priest to begin the Roast.

Father Callahan walked slowly toward the tall stack of deceased trees limbs. The wind was beginning to pick up more, but Callahan seemed not to notice it even though he only wore a thin black sweater tucked into tan trousers. He stopped just in front of the opening of the roasting pit. He stood and faced Emily. Only seeing her for a split second before moving on to the rest of his audience. His chin raised high and mighty like a king considering his loyal subjects. Callahan raised both hands to the graying sky and bellowed, “Friends, we are gathered here again to bear witness to another Roast.” The kneeling crowd said nothing. No one would dare interfere with the spotlight on the Father. “Bring up the pig.” He gestured down the hill where two men were making their way to the top. One shouldering a simple wooden chair, and the other struggling with the long and squirming body of the pig thrown over his right shoulder. His mighty arm hooked around the body to keep it latched on. As they strode upward, Callahan continued his speech.

“It has been a triumphant year for our community so far, I am glad to say. Only two Roasts and we’re almost through the harvest.” He grinned warmly. “But, as most of you are aware, the last few weeks have been a struggle. The lack of rain has been stunting our crop, and I just knew that a Roast was coming soon, I did. I was not aware who He wanted, but I knew that it wouldn’t be long before He made it known.” The two men walked behind Callahan and he told them what to do in a quick guiding whisper. They nodded in understanding. The first set the chair down beside Callahan, while the second man sat the long pig onto it. The cloth bag over its head hiding its view.

Father Callahan sneered at the pig for a moment before resuming. The winds were swirling even harder. Threatening to blow Emily off her balance. She hoped with everything she had that Susie was staying strong. “Thankfully, my friends and family, our luck will return, and we shall prosper!” He roared over the swirling winds to the silent observers. “Look upon the swine that will bring us back into God’s favor!” He yanked the cloth from the pig’s face, and the first word that entered Emily’s head, and many of the others in the crowd was surely the same. Grace.

Grace Harper, to Emily’s memory at least, was just another face in town. A passerby that you nod to at the grocery store as you move along in line, or someone that catches your eye for a second during some random church event. She’s sure that this crying woman means more to somebody here, but she would never know because no one would make it known. Not unless they wanted the scenic route to the almighty along with her. Emily would keep her trap shut, and she knew Susie would too. Or at least she hoped she would. As far as Susie was concerned, (and if Emily taught her daughter correctly) this woman was nothing more than a squealing pig that was unable to keep her piglet in line.

“This woman,” Father Callahan said, “was unable to effectively raise her child to live as a functional citizen of society. Instead of giving the child proper punishment when it misbehaved, this woman rewarded acts of misbehaving by sending the child to it’s room for the day and buying it treats for forgiveness. And because of this feebleness to teach, the child did not learn from past mistakes and was caught thieving.” Emily could feel the lips rearing back in disgust on her face and the people around her. What a weakling, she thought. What kind of punishment is sending them to their room? All that is good for is allowing them alone time to contemplate more rule-breaking, and drags down their respect for you and all authority figures. One or two good smacks shows them that what they did was wrong, and that doing wrong causes more smacks. But, the important lesson is, that they know who will deliver those smacks, and they know not to try and bypass your authority again. Grace was too stupid to understand that apparently, a weak-link in this town. That’s how you end up on the pit.

Grace wriggled in her seat and tried begging for her worthless life, but the rope around her wrists were well-knotted and the gag in her mouth well-placed. Father Callahan placed a hand on her shivering shoulder and leaned over her to instruct the two men again. The obnoxious wind was starting to pierce into Emily more sharply and the strength of it made it hard to hear what the Father was saying, but reading his lips she could see him say, “Let’s begin.”

At once the two men nodded again and this time picked up the crying pig, one holding each armpit, and dragged her into the open gap of the pit. She struggled as best she could, but the men held her easily as they tied each wrist to the sides of the teepee. Grace yanked to try and destabilize the structure, but as everyone could see, thick rope bundled the branches together at the top, and the large logs pressed into the base kept it from shaking. One of the men placed three long branches over the gap as a make-shift wall. This little piggie was all caged up.

During the caging process, another man approached Father Callahan with a crooked stave of wood erupting with fire from its top. Callahan took the torch and said, “Friends, prepare thine selves as we cleanse this weakness from our town. We will erase her sin from our homes for our Lord to smile down upon us! Join me as we cleanse our fates again!” The wind howled wildly around the crowd. The flame in Father Callahan’s hand danced as if overjoyed to rid the world of this weakling of a parent. He pressed the fire onto the roasting pit as his followers raised their hands high into the air towards the heavens above.

As the pig burned, it’s muffled wails were buried underneath the collective chanting of the disciples as they recite Father Callahan’s translation of the death hymnal, Dies Irae:

Righteous Judge, for sin’s pollution
Grant Thy gift of absolution
Ere that day of retribution!
Guilty, now I pour my moaning,
All my shame with anguish owning:
Spare, O God, Thy suppliant groaning!

From that sinful woman shriven,
From the dying thief forgiven,
Thou to me a hope hast given.
Worthless are my prayers and sighing;
Yet, good Lord, in grace complying,
Rescue me from fires undying.

With Thy favored sheep, oh, place me!
Nor among the goats abase me,
But to Thy right hand upraise me.
While the wicked are confounded,
Doomed to flames of woe unbounded,
Call me, with Thy saints surrounded.

Low I kneel with heart submission,
See, like ashes, my contrition;
Help me in my last condition!
Day of sorrow, day of weeping,
When, in dust no longer sleeping,
Man awakes in Thy dread keeping!

            Emily couldn’t help but watch Grace Harper as her skin blackened to a crisp before melting off and revealing the bright white of bone before it too browned from the flames. A thick black cloud of smoke slithered out from the teepee’s top and swirled into the sky. The smell of her, sweet and putrid, flew around on the wind and across the chanting crowd. Emily’s nose wrinkled at the first whiff, but she had grown too used to the smell of burning flesh and organs. It’s a smell that never really leaves after it made its way in. No matter how long someone lived. It wasn’t an off-putting smell to her, at least not anymore. It was simply a reminder of how she didn’t want to end up like Grace, or the countless others whose failures as authority figures ruined not just their souls, but the immortal souls of everyone in town. No, Grace would not fail her town, but she knew it wasn’t up to her. She stole a quick glance down at Susie, who was still shouting the words they had worked on for so long in preparation to this moment. My good little girl. You’ll make sure nothing bad ever happens to me, won’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you won’t send me into that fiery pit. Emily looked back to the Roasting Pit as the flames grew and roared higher into the sky. She watched as the hanging remains of Grace Harper swung inside of the cage. Still dripping bits of flame-broiled flesh onto the crackling grass. And just like that, the winds ceased and blessed rain fell from the clouds to douse the flames. Father Callahan announced that The Roast was officially over and for everyone to return home before they catch a cold. Everyone did just that. As if they didn’t just watch a friend burn to death in front of them and their children.

            Once back home and warm, Emily found Susie sitting on her bed cocooned inside a large blanket. Emily sat next to Susie and wrapped her arms around the girl. “How are you feeling?” She asked.

            Susie didn’t answer at first. Only sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I’m okay.”

            “And the Roast? What’d you think?”

            Susie sat there for almost a minute in silence before answering her mother. Finally, she said, “We sent her to God because she was making our town dirty, right?”

            Emily rubbed the girl’s back, “That’s right.”

            “Why not just tell her to do better? Why send her away to heaven?”

            Now it was Emily’s turn to pause for a moment. She thought carefully. “Because Susie, if all parents got was a warning, then they might continue raising their children the wrong way, and then their children will grow up and raise their children the wrong way too. It’s sort of like a . . .”

            “Like a cold?” Susie added with another sniffle. “One small virus gets in, and then, if not given medicine, it can spread to the whole body and make it sick.”

            Emily smiled affectionately at her daughter. Such a smart girl. Yes, I know that I’m raising her right. She will keep me safe from the pit. “Yes,” Emily said, “Like a cold.” She hugged her daughter tight. “How’d you get so smart, huh?”

            “Daddy used to say that I got your pretty face, but his big brain; before he went away . . .” Both of their faces fell to the floor in grief.

            Emily hugged her again just as tight and spoke right into Susie’s ear. “It’s alright baby, everybody makes mistakes. You’ve learned from yours. We’ve learned. You have, haven’t you?” She felt Susie’s head nod against her bosom. “That’s good. I know you have. I love you baby.”

            “I love you too Mommy. I promise I’ll be the best daughter in the whole world. I’ll never break another rule.”

            “I know you won’t, Susie. I’ll make sure of it.”