[PROMPT] The whole town knows about it. The black shadow on the baby monitor. Sudden changed diapers or meals ready for kids when they get home. Cleaned rooms and drawn baths. It is known as The Babysitter. It will never harm a child, but heaven help those who don’t pay for its services.
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Pinehurst was a smaller town on the coast, full of rolling green hills and not far from the mountains. It was beautiful here, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the larger metropolitan areas. People were friendly for the most part – every town has a few bad apples, after all, and residents were keen on their roots. The town had been settled largely by Irish and Scottish folk in the eighteenth century, and here in the early twenty-first it seems like little has changed, despite keeping up with the times.
Many of the adults in town worked at local stores or commuted to nearby cities, and those who weren’t employable often opted to volunteer for churches or other volunteer organizations. This left the children of the town largely unsupervised, but no one worried. The children were always taken care of and always tended to well. No one spoke of the unseen that tended to them – they just carried with them the traditions of their ancestors, leaving offerings of freshly homemade bread, milk, and honey most often, though some left gifts of fresh, homegrown fruit or wildflowers.
It wasn’t often that new families moved to Pinehurst, but in late spring a new family had arrived, and they were warmly welcomed by the townfolk, despite seeming aloof. The family’s name was Green, and consisted of the parents, Jonathan and Laura; and the children, Matthew (age 14), Samantha (age 12), and the twins, Andrew and Lily (age 8). The twins were very friendly, and the liked their neighbors. Samantha was a little shyer, while Matthew was rather sullen most of the time. The parents were polite but didn’t involve themselves overly much with town goings-on.
The children were the first to notice, of course, as all the town’s children did. They were happy with their after-school snacks, and help cleaning their rooms. Their parents didn’t believe them, however, when the children (mainly the twins) insisted it was magic. In fact, it got to such a point that the parents threatened the children with a beating if they didn’t stop lying. After the first few times, things only got partially done, and other things in the house might go missing, turning up in odd places later on, or broken.
“Hasn’t anyone told you about leaving offerings?” their neighbor told them when Laura complained about the children’s lying one day. “The children are always taken care of.”
“By who?” Laura had asked.
Jen, their neighbor, shrugged. “No one knows. But they’re always taken care of, and always safe. It’s been like this since the town was founded, and all they want is an offering.”
“I don’t understand…but…what happens if you don’t?”
“No one knows. We’ve always just left offerings overnight.”
“What do you leave?” Laura asked, figuring it couldn’t hurt to try, really being at her wit’s end about the whole matter.
“Most of us bake bread, and leave out a bit of that with some honey, and milk or cream. Others leave bits of fresh fruit and wildflowers. It’s best to leave it on the porch, front or back.”
“I’ll try that.” Laura said, thanking Jen before she headed inside. That night, after the children had gone to bed and her husband had settled in front of the tv, she put together a small dish of bread, cream, and honey, then set it by the backdoor.
The next day, the missing items were back in their place, and broken items had been fixed. Amazed, she kept up the offerings, finding the help of whoever took care of the children to be immensely helpful to her as well, as it gave her fewer things to take care of. She kept her offerings discreet, however.
Mid-summer, Jonathan came home in a bad mood, at an unexpected hour. He took to drink right away, and went about the house, trying to find fault with something in order to yell about it. Laura sensed what that night might bring, so she hurried the kids along to their bedrooms, giving them extra privileges if they stayed in their rooms that night, except to use the bathroom.
It was very late that evening when Jonathan found the offering on the back porch, and he started yelling about Laura feeding strays. When she protested that she was nothing, he took a piss in the bowl, and swore to put poison in the next one he found. Laura was worried, and wasn’t sure what would happen, but Jonathan wouldn’t allow her to remove or replace it, instead making her go to bed with him.
In the morning, things seemed fine. When the kids came down to breakfast however, she noticed something was off. The twins were behaving a bit oddly, but she initially chalked it up to childish games. After eating, she took the family out to a town festival that was happening that week. Normally, the residents of the town took warmly to the twins, but not today. Even they sensed something was wrong, and gave each other looks, but said nothing.
That night, Laura tried again to give the offering, but Jonathan found her in the process of doing so and threatened her with a knife for being foolish. Frightened, she stopped putting it together, and tended to her husbands demands instead. The following morning, both Matthew and Samantha were behaving oddly, just like the twins.
Again, to get them out of the house and away from their angry, drunken father, she took them to town. Again, the same exchanges of looks. In desperation, she begged a group of elderly ladies to tell her why the looks, to tell her what was wrong with her children.
Agnes sighed, taking off her glasses for a moment to clean then, then put them back on. “My dear, even you know that something isn’t right with your children, don’t you?”
“Yes, but I don’t know what. Please, can you help me?”
“You’ve angered them, dearie. They took your children away as recompense.”
“Angered who? Recompense for what?” she cried.
“The fair folk, dearie. My guess is your lack of offerings to them for all they do for your children.”
“I’ve been trying.” she said, tears running down her face. “My husband taints them or threatens me and the children when I do, ever since he found out. Please, how can I get my children back?”
Agnes looked at the group she sat with, as though seeking approval before answering. “There’s a ritual tonight – Malcolm over there can tell you where. You’ll need to bring something, though.”
“What do I need to do?”
They looked at each other again. “Tonight is important for two reasons.” Malcolm said. “Tonight is the new moon – a time of rest, peace and banishing. Tonight is a time to banish negative energies from our lives we are serious about getting rid of.” he said, letting that information wash over her before Agnes continued.
“It is also Lughnasadh, a festival to mark the beginning of harvest season. We celebrate it over the course of a few days here, hence the festival. Normally, we don’t have rituals, but as Malcolm said, it’s important. On Lughnasadh, we offer First Fruits. Mainly, offerings of the first of the harvest, as well as a ritual dance, and sometimes a bull sacrifice.”
Malcolm continued. “Being as it’s the new moon, however, we’ll all be sacrificing negativity from our lives. You’re welcome to join us, and no judgment will befall you.” he promised. “Do you understand?”
“I…I think so.” Laura responded. “Thank you.” Malcolm handed her a scrap of paper with the ritual location written on it, and then she left, spending some more time at the festival before making her way home.
The children were left at home that evening – she had made sure to put out an apology offering of fruits, flowers, bread, cream and honey, then kept her husband away from the porch. She coaxed him into a good mood with a nice meal, then suggested they go to a town gathering that evening, with the promise of fun times later.
They drove out of town a little way, first driving off the main road and then onto a dirt path, finally parking amongst a lot of other vehicles before climbing up a hill. At the top, there was a large bonfire going, and people laughing and talking, some dancing and drinking. It wasn’t until later when Malcolm called everyone to order. A small prayer was said, then everyone was directed to cast their negativity into the fire, one by one.
Jonathan gave her an odd look as he drank more of the homemade wine he’d been given. “What kind of New Age shit is this?” he asked, belching afterward.
“I’m tired of you always putting us down, of beating us and making us feel worthless.” Laura said, her fists clenched. When it came time for her to cast her negativity, she grabbed Jonathan’s drink, doused him with it, then shoved him into the fire.
She had expected to get in trouble. She had expected for them to help Jon. But they seemed to know that he was not a good man, that he deserved no less. She bore no trouble for her deed, and authorities helped her cover it up in the days to come. When she came home, she checked on the offering to find it gone. Picking up the bowl, she cleansed it, then paused. A thought occurred to her, and she did a search on her phone for other offerings, other things she could try and do to apologize and appease.
Finally, she set out into the dish her wedding ring, a few pieces of mint from her kitchen herb garden, and a tiny mirror that had once been in a locket she owned, then went to bed. In the morning, the bowl was again empty, and at breakfast, her children were normal, all of them excitedly telling her about their adventure in the other place.
No one seemed to miss Jon, and she never again forgot to leave an offering.