Liz writes from Western Massachusetts. Her stories have appeared in Vine Leaves Press, Black Hare Press, 50-Word Stories, Flash Fiction Magazine, The No Sleep Podcast, and elsewhere. Her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize.
Eye on the Sparrow
by Liz Mayers
Leaving Vin’s Pizza around ten, I learned my three Sparrow sisters, with whom I’d just shared pepperoni pies and too much cheap wine, planned to kill me tonight.
“Gummy, you’re riding shotgun,” Shy had said.
That was the final order to the others: my execution was a go.
I knew the drill: they’d get me into the car, we’d drive to the spot, one of them would knife me and roll me into the swamp atop layers of other gang girls, and I’d sink and rot in the muck.
But I wasn’t prepared to hear my name and cold, hard fractures spread across my chest while the rest of me burst into a sweat. The traffic roar and the drunk laughter of a typical Saturday night deadened.
Across the country, Las Vegas and a job were waiting for me.
At home, my grandmother was waiting for me.
GranGran and I had a date every night at eleven. No matter what, I showed up to watch the news with her. With my parents gone, I was the only family she had. She cracked me up with her old-fashioned comments about the world today.
Late that afternoon, a particularly hot and humid one, I’d stashed a big carton of fancy chocolate ice cream in the freezer for later. Before leaving to meet Shy, Rome, and Red, I’d yelled to GranGran that I’d be back by eleven with a special treat.
She’d yelled back, “I’m counting on it love.”
Now I wish I’d gone into the tiny, yellow living room where she’d been reading and keeping an eye on the street below and given her a last hug.
GranGran didn’t know I was leaving tomorrow. I’d told no one. But somehow the Sparrows had found out.
Trying to leave them was enough to get me killed.
I walked the broken and heaved sidewalk shoulder-to-tattooed shoulder with Shy and Red while Rome followed close behind to ensure I didn’t turn around and bolt. I swallowed pushing down the sharp, sour taste of regurgitated pepperoni and Vin’s basement swill.
“So, where we going girls?” I asked, acting like I didn’t know.
Shy shoved her shoulder hard into mine, rattling the bracelets filling her wrists. Rome grabbed the strap of my bag yanking me back.
“Car’s on the next block,” Shy said.
My best friend’s words caught in her throat like she couldn’t get enough air. She did that when she was stressed and anxious, something she hadn’t gotten a handle on since I’d met her in the fifth grade.
We reached the crosswalk at the four-lane boulevard. Up and down the street, car lights, streetlights, and neon glowed fuzzy in the humidity.
When I was younger, I used to think I’d leave here by hopping into any car waiting at the light and asking the driver to take me wherever they were going. Then I’d keep going wherever the next car was going and the next and the next like the hitchhikers I’d read about. Finally, when I reached a place with fresh air, wide open sky, and smiling people, I’d call it home.
To our right, two police cars pulled up to the curb. A cop from each got out and sauntered slowly toward us. Like clockwork they were going for coffee.
I pulled my canvas bag around to the front of me, unzipped it, and searched inside.
“Sparrows,” the taller officer said, acknowledging us.
“Hello officers,” I said.
Shy jabbed my back.
I was close enough to touch the two men as they rounded the corner behind me.
“Hey officers,” I said and turned.
Shy gripped my arm, but I kept searching for whether she’d successfully removed all my weapons while I was in the bathroom at Vin’s. I made her nervous thinking she may have missed something.
And she had.
The two men stopped and turned with their hands near their revolvers.
“Whatcha need Gummy?”
“I…”
“She doesn’t need anything,” Shy answered.
“I need some help,” I said just to unnerve her more.
I heard Shy say something under her breath that I couldn’t make out.
“Shoot,” the officer said.
“Keep an eye out for GranGran. Would ya?”
“Sure thing. We always do.”
“You know, like if something ever happens to me.”
They nodded. Things happened all the time here. “Anything else we can do for you ladies?”
I saluted them and they walked away.
We waited for another change of the traffic lights. I zipped my bag.
“Not funny Gummy,” Shy said. “What were you going to do knife them?”
“You took all my knives.”
“You just realized it?”
When Shy’d called shotgun, I’d felt my bag was light, but it was too late; I couldn’t make it back to Vin’s and escape through the kitchen to the subway.
“Yeah, just realized it,” I lied.
We looked at each other.
“You’re losing it Gummy. You aren’t sharp like you used to be.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
Shy’s eyes didn’t dance like they used to. Neither did mine.
The lights changed and we walked.
*
The car was at the end of the block; I picked up the pace.
“You can’t outrun us,” Rome said. “A couple of guys are waiting up ahead to make sure you get in.”
I knew that wasn’t true; we no longer relied on the guys because it sent the message we were weak. Queen Sparrow had agreed with me on that.
“I wasn’t trying to.”
I could have outrun them especially since two of them would trip on their untied sneaker laces, but if I didn’t escape, I wouldn’t stay alive. Every hiding place in the neighborhood was well-known. Every Sparrow would be looking for me. They’d corner me and end me in an especially gruesome way. Queen Sparrow might even do it herself and Shy would pay for it too. So, I fell back in line sickened by their sticky, warm shoulders bouncing up against mine.
Leaving the Sparrows was a blatant violation of the oath I took when I was fifteen: “I’m a Sparrow forever. I will never, ever fly away. The only way out is death.”
What did I know about oaths? But it wasn’t like I’d had a choice about joining.
At the car, Shy and Rome walked into the street and got in. Red opened the passenger door for me like I was special.
“Get in,” Red gripped the door handle. She’d be sitting behind me in the killer’s seat. I would be her first and a big step in her gang life.
I hesitated on the sidewalk.
Red was a tiny, shy thing, maybe sixteen with a large nose ring. Girls like her made it a year with us, two if one of us looked out for her. She had a lot less time to live.
“But Shy said I’d be riding shotgun,” I said.
Red looked at me and I shrugged.
She put one hand on the car’s roof and the other on the top of the open door and ducked her head inside the car. If I gave her a strong kick in the back and slammed the door on her, I could sprint to the park in the next block before any of them moved.
“She says she’s supposed to ride shotgun,” Red said to Shy.
I rolled my eyes and pulled a hairband from my wrist and put up my hair.
Poor Red.
“Riding shotgun means sitting in the passenger seat.” The way Shy enunciated her words meant she was angry.
“But I thought it meant I was going to…” Red said.
“It means BOTH,” Shy said. “Gummy, get in the car. Get in Red.”
Horror movies taught me to never go into the basement, never go into the woods, and never get into the car.
I threw my bag on the seat and got in.
*
Shy started the car but we sat there because another car was waiting for our spot and our stalling was something we did to annoy people.
They blew the horn.
Finally, we pulled out slowly and paused halfway so Shy could extend her arm out the window and give them the finger.
“That’s showing them,” Rome said.
More than a year ago, when I decided to leave, I met Miss Pamela who worked at the library. She taught me that not everybody acts like this and most people don’t think it’s cool. Miss Pamela gave me books on how to behave. Some were about etiquette and some about being a better person. Much of what was in them were things GranGran would tell me.
No one spoke as we headed west through the neighborhood towards the highway.
We passed stretches of sand-colored concrete walls topped with barbed wire and splashed with lame graffiti, spindly trees planted then neglected ensuring they’d never reach their potential, and building after building with barred windows.
I opened my bag and took out my favorite candy.
“Mind if I enjoy my last Gummi Bears?” I asked.
“Go ahead. But you still gotta share like always,” Shy said.
I passed her the crinkly bag.
The air was a thick stew of bad breath, air freshener, weed, and fear. As if reading my mind, Shy turned up the air conditioning.
“You don’t have to do this Shy.”
“You know I don’t have an option. And, by the way, I’m not doing anything. You are breaking the oath.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“Technically you haven’t done anything YET. I have my orders from Queen Sparrow. If I don’t do it, I’ll be next. Next thing you’ll be asking me to drive you all the way to Vegas,” Shy said.
They really knew.
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
I didn’t answer.
Traffic on the bridge was heavy both in and out of the city. We crawled a couple of feet then stopped. Red bounced her knees against the back of my seat.
Riding to my first kill I thought my body would come apart. It was winter and I was sweating through my sweatshirt and jeans before we’d reached the bridge. When the girl riding shotgun finally figured out where we were heading, she whimpered and begged and I slammed the back of the seat with both hands so she’d stop but that made it worse.
“Red. Just look out the window and breathe. Look at the pretty city lights. Breathe. And please stop hitting my seat,” I said.
Red stopped.
“You like soothing everybody whether they’re going to be killed or they’re doing the killing,” Shy said.
“I guess maybe I do. You know what I’m thinking?”
“Yeah.”
“Your first day in fifth grade.”
“Don’t you dare Gummy.”
“You know I’d never tell them. I’ll take it to the grave.”
“Just stop talking.”
I wouldn’t tell Red and Rome that I’d met Shy when she was the new girl at school and afraid to go to the bathroom down the hall by herself. So, I volunteered to go with her and the entire year I accompanied her. We became best friends.
Even though I wanted to save Shy and have her come with me, I couldn’t trust her. I only planned to save myself and that was overwhelming to figure out. Miss Pamela didn’t know what I was planning exactly but she taught me a lot of practical things about banking, finding an apartment, and buying a car. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t know how to fly to Las Vegas.
The bag of Gummies got passed around and everyone was distracted, chewing on the sweet little bears.
Red’s knees banged against my seat, but I didn’t say anything.
*
The traffic cleared, and we exited the highway and looped under a long, hulking bridge where tall marsh grasses spread across both sides of the road. Beyond them lay black, polluted waterways, warehouses, and smokestacks. And beyond them was the airport where my flight would leave at six the next morning. The smell of rotten eggs blew in through the air conditioner.
My first time here I sat where Rome sat behind the driver. My second time, I drove. My third, in the killer’s seat. The previous Queen Sparrow said I was a fast learner with the right temperament. This would be my tenth time here.
“How’re you doing Red?” I said.
She didn’t answer.
“First time is hard. Don’t freak out. Go for it with everything you’ve got. I’m sure Shy gave you a really sharp knife. Didn’t you Shy?”
“Shut up Gummy.”
“I don’t feel so good,” Rome said.
“Me either,” said Shy.
“Vin’s crappy wine has a way of sneaking up on you,” I said.
We passed a yellow sign telling drivers to watch for truck traffic.
“It’s coming up on the right,” I said.
“I told you to shut up,” she said less forcefully than before.
An airplane roared close overhead.
We turned onto the dirt road without slowing, drove a short way then parked in a sandy area big enough for three or four cars.
“Everybody out. Red move it and get it done quick,” Shy said. “I wanna get back.
The headlights lit the opening of a narrow path into the thick grass.
We got out. Rome and Shy leaned against the hood arms crossed. Red and I stood by the bumper.
“Gummy, get going and stay in front of me.” Red motioned lazily with the knife.
“I have to say goodbye to Shy first.”
“Don’t do this Gummy.”
“You’ve been the best friend anyone could ask for. Under our circumstances.”
Her eyes glistened and she attempted to smile.
“Are we going to haunt each other like we talked about? Communicate from beyond? Remember?” she spoke slowly.
“Maybe we shouldn’t do the haunting thing.”
“Maybe not.”
I wanted to hug her. But Red was behind me and I wasn’t sure what she and Rome would do if they thought I was attacking Shy. I planned to stay alive.
“Go Red! Yell if she doesn’t go down easy. Get out of here,” Shy said.
I walked down the sandy path and Red followed. The planes rumbled and the wind swished the grasses. After a few minutes we were close to the spot.
“How are you doing Red?”
She didn’t answer. I turned around. She stood twenty feet behind me holding the knife by her side. She swayed and dropped hard.
“Red?”
She groaned.
“Red? What’s wrong?”
I walked back to her. She mumbled and bubbles foamed around her mouth. I knelt beside her, took the knife, and covered her hand with mine.
“Red, I’m sorry.”
She groaned and shook. I stayed with her. It only took another minute.
I pulled Red by the legs to where the path ended and rolled her into the swamp where she sank into her grave.
I counted to three hundred, more than enough time for Rome and Shy to have become concerned and come looking for us.
Returning up the path, the grasses whispered around me. I looked back half-expecting to see Red drenched and muddy coming for me and anticipated Rome and Shy emerging onto the path ahead with knives raised to attack me.
I froze.
To plan a new life was hard work and to risk leaving the Sparrows was a huge risk. I was so close and now I couldn’t move and I couldn’t stop the tears. My legs gave out and I fell onto the path. I couldn’t think of what to do next, so I prayed like GranGran had taught me. I prayed not to be afraid.
When I calmed down, I got up slowly. Fewer planes roared and the swishing grasses had quieted. It didn’t seem real that I would be able to leave, that I was about to pull it off, that I had something in me that made it possible. I could have a different life.
In the headlight beams, Shy and Rome lay crumpled near where I’d left them.
From Shy’s hand, I snatched the empty Gummi Bear bag and stuffed it into my back pocket. The first time I’d ridden out here I’d thought about how I might escape if I were riding shotgun. On every ride here I always shared my candy and I always carried a special bag just in case.
I pulled both girls down the path and left them in the wasteland. I said a prayer for Shy and asked her not to haunt me.
I was drenched and exhausted.
It was one AM.
I popped the trunk and got lucky; as was Shy’s habit, she’d stashed clothes for emergencies. I changed and drove to the airport.
Eventually GranGran would find my knapsack under my bed packed with clothes, a book of positive sayings from Miss Pamela, and the locket my mother had given me the week she and my father overdosed.
I wouldn’t tell GranGran I was okay until I was safe and I had enough money to move her. She needed big skies, fresh air, and smiling people too.
When the job recruiter had asked me to describe my relevant experience, I followed Miss Pamela’s advice and didn’t embellish what I’d done with the Sparrows.
I got the job.
Of course, they said I’d need additional training. I told them I looked forward to it as long as the job paid well and I killed for a good reason.
Copyright 2025 by Liz Mayers