“Who bought that moose cookie jar?” Dave asked. Henry shrugged
his shoulders and left the room.
“You need to kill him,” said a voice.
“Henry, you playing me?” There was no reply.
A kitchen drawer slid open, revealing a new rope. “He is
going to kill you.”
“What the …”
“Then use the kayak.”
The back door opened to reveal a new kayak.
“Do it, before he kills you.”
Dave stared at the cartoony moose cookie jar with its dopey
smile. “I must need sleep.”
“Do it now.”
“Henry ain’t gonna to kill me and I ain’t gonna kill him.”
The drawer and door suddenly flew shut and the cookie jar
spoke no more.
Henry was watching TV. “Did you get rope and a kayak?”
“Yeah, gonna be fishing later. Why?”
“Nothing, just hearing voices saying your gonna kill me. Crazy
stuff. I’m gonna take a nap.”
Dave woke up when he felt someone tying his wrists together.
The cookie jar was on his desk.
“You and this mouthy cookie jar are headed for the bottom of
the lake,” Henry announced.
Dave struggled, and Henry punched him until he was unconscious.
Dave woke when his body hit the cold water at the river’s edge. The cookie jar,
now full of cement, was strapped to his chest.
Henry got into the kayak and dragged Dave’s body into the
center of the lake. He cut the rope and watched as Dave struggled to stay above
water.
“Why?”
“You always ate the last cookie from the jar,” Henry replied.
“Just like my dad. You and he will become fast friends, I’m sure.”
“You sick …”
Henry slammed the kayak paddle against Dave’s head then
watched him sink into the water with a very satisfied grin on his face. “Time
to eat the cookies.”
