Left for Garbage

trunk.
    Leaning down into the opened trunk , she carefully placed a small red heart sticker over the duct tape on Deeley’s lips, and whispered, “Sleep tight, Baby Girl. I love you,” before closing the trunk.
    As soon as she cleared the garage, she started to breathe easier and a grin tugged at her lips. It was all happening just like she’d planned. In two minutes she’d be at the end of Subdivision Lane where it turned into woods, and five minutes after that she’d be in the woods and by the swamp, and five minutes after that she’d be back in her car and on the phone to Aaron to see if he wanted her to stop at Target to pick up …
    Thump!
    If there had been another car on the road, Denise would have driven up their back seat as freaked-out as she was by the sound.
    And then it happened again …
    Thump!
    … and, oh God, no please, God, no please no, no, no, no. Was that a muffled scream?
    Her immediate reaction was to brake the car and jump out , screaming herself, and start running down the street until … until what?
    A colder calme r voice than her own asked quietly in her head, ‘Until fucking what?’
    … Until someone came along, probably a neighbor whom she’d known all her life, someone who would ask helpfully, “Hey, Denise, what’s up, got a spider in your car? And, by the way, what in the hell is making that sound in your trunk? Here, we’d best check right away. Can you pop the lid?”
    Fear of exactly that scenario was immediately followed by the will to make sure it didn’t go down that way. Knowing she could not be caught here forced her foot off the brake and she continued steering slowly down Subdivision to the edge of the woods, parking far enough in so someone would have to be nearly on top of her space to see the car.
    Then she put her head down on the steering wheel and prayed to a God she was certain wouldn’t listen this time, “Let her be dead, she should be dead … I put the tape … I put the tape …”
    Oh Christ Jesus, where had she put the tape? Over her mouth, but was it over her nose?
    Another muffled thump from the trunk answered her and her head snapped up and she breathed jerkily, fighting hyperventilation. After a minute … or ten, she didn’t know … but the car had become very hot inside, and she reached over and opened the glove box. It was right there on top of her insurance folder, the mix CD Aaron had made her.
    Last week when her mother had forced her home from Aaron’s apartment was when she had realized there was only one way out , and the next day she had gone into Walgreen’s and easily purchased five syringes, the kind Diabetics use. When she’d made her next batch of chloroform, for the first time ever she filled a needle with it, the needle she now held.
    It hadn’t been for Deeley. S he would never stick her baby girl with a needle filled with mostly Shock Powder - never, never - it had been for her, for Denise, in case they caught her but now … now she wasn’t caught but she would be if Deeley didn’t die, and it wasn’t her fault, and it wasn’t her fault.
    N ot, not, not, not dead, not dead, so I have to … I have to, yes, but it won’t hurt her, it will only be a second, yes, just a tiny second …
    She reached down and popped the trunk lid , stiffly moved to the back of the car, and repeated her mantra have to, have to and told herself she didn’t hear the tiny, pitiful squeals of a frightened little girl.
    Denise tried very hard to depress the syringe without looking down but that was impossible as she had to see where … she had to see … and it was then her eyes met the enormous, terrified, confused ones of Deeley. And because it was the only thing she could give her baby, she met those eyes as she plunged the needle through her baby’s fat little arm right above the elbow, and then it all crashed down - the rotting smell of the forest, the wide pain-filled eyes, the heat - and she let out a long wail and slammed down the lid, cutting off forever those eyes.
    Denise’s nerveless, numb hand dropped the syringe to the forest floor, and beyond thought or consideration of her plan, or any rea l memory of what she had intended to do with Deeley, she backed out down the path until her wheels connected with the asphalt. If the small bundle in the trunk rolled and made noises now, she didn’t hear it. She was already dialing Aaron.
    When he answered , she said brightly. “Hey, Babe, I’m on my way to your place. You