Ava was a natural disaster, the calm inside the tornado, and a girl that came with a warning sign. Ava was a 5-year-old child, with juice boxes and animal crackers and she was a  mistress in black lace and temptation. She was the girl you pray will finally notice you, and that girl-next-door you once kissed. It was that special blend of impure innocence that tempted me, tempted me to my own destruction as though offering the taste of an apple.

I was nine, maybe ten, when I met her. She didn’t look like an eight year old. Well what I mean to say is, despite the messy pigtails, juice mustache, and mystery bruises, she lacked something. I don’t know what I’m trying to say, my mother says I ramble, but what I do know is that even then she scared the shit out of me. She was pretty, but it was like a gorgon breaking free, some sort of flames-of-hell-in-a-princess-costume, kind of thing. I hated play dates with her, she burnt the heads off every one of my G.I. Joe figurines, and she called them dolls. I don’t care if she was only eight, she was a bitch.

Mom had wanted to move, I didn’t. She used to say things about change being good for the soul, windows of opportunity, and so forth. Well, that change meant we left most of my toys, my town, and my father behind. Though the resentment for her later turned to admiration, I always felt some cliché void from his absence, even if he was a schmuck. Turns out, most parents are.

Mom always tried her best, but in this neighborhood, with that girl, neither one of us stood a chance.  I was carrying the last box of our possessions from the car to our new house, dreaming of my reward, and how I would savor the ice cream sandwich, when I suddenly felt like I’d been shot in the arm. I dropped the box, ignoring the shattering sounds, and looked down to see blood on my arm.

“Mom! Mom, I’m dying, I’m gonna die.  Mom! Mom! Look at the blood. I’m dying, I’m dying! Mom, don‘t you even care?!”

“Grayson, you’re fine! Jesus, I’m going to start charging you a quarter every time you say my name. Now what happened?”

That’s when I heard the snickering, like an imp, half-cackle, and half-giggle. The bushes shook, revealing a pod of children; probably what was the majority of neighborhood kids. I felt like it was an appropriate welcome, friends weren’t really my specialty. I was a social nematode.

“You there, which one of you did this? Grayson stand up, let’s go.” That was mom’s authoritative voice.

As five young boys stood up, I gasped slightly as the six one took her place in line. They admired her, they followed her like Wendy and the lost boys, and it came to no surprise when each tried to take the blame.

“Cowards! Don’t surrender! She can’t catch us if we run boys! I did it lady, and I’d do it again. Wanna know why? Cuz your kid looks like wussy!”

“Young lady, wait till your mother hears about this.” Yes, my mom was utterly frightening.  But the look Ava then gave was heart wrenching.  Oscars should have been awarded.

“ I,…I wish” she stammered.  “ I wish you could tell my mom. But, but you can’t, cuz she’s dead. I begged her not to take the elevator. Dad always said, ‘stairs are good for you’, but she didn’t listen….and down it went…all 24 floors. Kaboom, kaboom….ka..kaboom.” At this point tears had interfered with her flow of speech.
Mom actually bought it.

“ Oh your poor child, I am so sorry for you. Come inside, lets you get cleaned up Would you like an ice cream sandwich?”

The sobbing Ava nodded her head, and as they walked inside to eat my prized treat, she looked back and gave a wink and a wicked grin that would have taken others years to perfect.

I stood there with the other boys, each one of us in a slight jaw-dropping competition and we watched our favorite monster work her magic. Poor mom. Then without turning their head from her direction they introduced themselves. I lived on that street for ten more years, and I don’t remember any of their suburban names.  I just called them the Johns. It didn’t matter who they were, except that they followed her lead. Ava always had Johns around her, and they went from being her lost boys, to her friends, to lovers, to exes, to problems. But, they were always just Johns.
Not much changed over the next few years, I was still as every bit as anti-social as the day I arrived. Chesapeake Street had not changed,  Ava’s house was still only hand spans from mine, so near in fact that if one found themselves in need of toilet tissue it was but a shout out the window and quick toss over the gap.

As I sat on my bed, I looked out the window, always expecting to see some majestic view, like there was when we lived with Dad. I didn’t miss him anymore, I don’t think I knew how to miss him. I began biting my cuticles, as I usually did when I was bored or nostalgic, and then  I succumbed to the urge to look up. It was as if I could sense her. My bedroom was directly across the gap from hers, as if arranged in some sick twisted joke. Now, not to boast, but I hadn’t grown up completely devoid of some physical appeal. Girls looked at me, but usually almost immediately regretted it as Ava’s constant presence both captured every morsel of my  focus, and put a defeated sense of hope into their minds. That, and apparently girls took my quiet, sarcastic nature as my being an asshole.
Ava, on the other hand was captivating, as only the devil could want to be.  She had attached herself to me, and for some reason took some perverse pleasure in watching me squirm. So, now,  as I looked up across into her room, she began to undress. She undoubtedly knew where I was, and assumed I was watching,  and she enjoyed this. Not that I didn’t.
As my phone began to ring, I  knew who was calling before the end of the first ring.
“Hey Ava, what’s up?”  There was a tone to my voice that would hint I’d been through this before.
“Oh nothing. Bt dubs, do these panties make my butt look fat? Hahaha I saw ya!” You could hear her smiling, and it always made me smile back.

“ Like a beached whale’s ass”

“You’re such a jerk Gray. I dumped Anders today. He was a jerk too.”
“Oh good you mean if I act like that I’ll be free?”

“Never. Haha. Umm…Gray? Would stay over here tonight, you know just in case I have a nightmare or something?”

“Of course”

And like every other night for the last few years I put the plank across the windows and crawled the 2 feet across. It was torture to spend my nights next her. This girl, this women who I hated and loved, but I was hers and hers alone. She had made that quite clear. All irrelevant, because despite all rationale, I wanted to keep close, wanted to remain in her presence as if doing so made life more exciting. She sucked me into a world I both hated and loved. But that’s just what Ava did best, she enchanted you with darkness. Funny thing is, she didn’t even know she was doing it, hell, she was afraid of the dark.