Sweet Little Lies

By Ina Louise

“Awwww, puppy!”

It was a totally weird thing to hear inside the mall. I turned just as a blur of golden fur burst out of the food court. It sped past me, its coat changing colors as it reflected the neon lights of the storefronts. It looked like the Yorkie mutt from the movie Benji. I totally loved that movie and watched it every chance I got on HBO. I don’t think sixteen-year-olds are too old to watch it.

Music poured down from the mall speakers, and just as the high note hit in “Take on Me,” the small dog took a sharp turn down a service hallway, heading toward an open elevator. As the door began closing, the dog dove in. I raced to rescue the poor thing, just barely making it in. My jellies were not made for running.

I followed the sound of yapping, pulling up my falling legwarmers every five steps, until I saw the dog. He was barking furiously at a set of double wooden doors. As I reached him, he started throwing his body against the door. With each attack, the dog grew. Its legs lengthened and its body expanded.  I couldn’t believe the magic happening before my eyes! Then, it inexplicably changed breed. Soon, the doors cracked open as the dog busted through as a Saint Bernard.

I gasped as I took in the scene: a small elderly woman tied to a chair, looking up at two hooded men. One had a gun in his hand; the other was grasping a small pouch. The now fully grown Saint Bernard rushed in with a growl, attacking the man holding the gun. The ropes fell as the woman launched herself out of the chair. Spinning, she kicked the other thug in the stomach, then his knee. He crumpled to the ground. The senior grabbed the pouch, jumped onto the chair, and reached over the Saint Bernard to punch the gun-toting thug in the face. The blow looked harder than it should’ve for a woman of her size and age, but down he went.

Leaping off the chair, she landed lightly on her feet, belying her years. She sighed and looked around at her handiwork. From behind the chair, she picked up a large purse and pulled out a plate. Ignoring the moans of the men lying on the floor, she set the plate on the chair and placed several cookies on it.

The woman’s gray eyes found mine on the other side of the broken doors.

“Cookie, dear?”

I could only shake my head.

“Oh, come now. You must be hungry! And everyone likes cookies. You like cookies, don’t you?” I nodded numbly. “That’s what I thought!” She smiled.

The small woman easily cleared the hole in the doors and joined me in the corridor. My eyes locked onto her gauzy white hair floating around her head like a halo. For some reason, that seemed to shake off my shock. “Are you The Sweet Avenger?”

“Yes, dear.”

The Saint Bernard growled at the answer.

“Sorry, Matteo.” She patted his head, “We’re The Sweet Avenger.”

“That’s totally wicked! I’ve seen your story on the news… leaving cookies at crime scenes with the bad guys tied up and waiting for the cops!”

“Yes, sweetie, and we need to get out of here before the fuzz arrive. No one needs to know my true identity.” She shoved a cookie into my hand and pulled me into a run with Matteo close behind.

“What about me? I know your true identity.” I let her lead me away from the criminals, when another thought hit me. “You’re not going to have to kill me, right? Because I know your secret identity? I am sooo sure my parents will wig out if I don’t come home for dinner!”

We raced out of a set of double doors that spit us onto a sunny sidewalk. Turning to me, she put her hands on my shoulders.

“Look, Heather, I know you won’t spill the beans on old Miriel here—”

“How did you know my—”

“—just like I know that secret you’re keeping from your parents.”

That shut me up.

“I know that you probably consider it a small lie, and that it’s no big deal.” Miriel patted her cheek. “But trust me, the small lies quickly turn into big lies, and that could ruin your relationship with your parents. You don’t want to risk that. When I was your age, I unexpectedly left home. I was on bad terms with my parents and afraid that I wouldn’t get the chance to reconcile with them. I loved my new home but longed for a chance to return and apologize. Luckily, I got that chance. My parents are gone, and I’ve been trying for a long time to return home.” Miriel shook the pouch, and its contents jingled. “My bus tokens. Their magic will get me back there.”

“Those guys stole them?”

Miriel nodded. “They thought I was going to be an easy mark, but I showed them.” She smiled and looked over my shoulder. “Now there’s the ride I’ve been anticipating for a long time.” An old trash heap of a bus pulled up. “Matteo and I have been here many years trying to earn our way back. We’ve finally done it, and now it’s time for us to go.”

The bus door swung open. There was no driver.

“Now do me a favor and be sure to eat that cookie.” I’d completely disregarded the treat in my hand. “It’s unforgettable.”

I watched as the bus carrying Miriel and Matteo drove away and disappeared. I took a bite of the cookie. She was right. This cookie is bodacious! It is unforgettable! I’ll have to—

I suddenly lost my train of thought. Looking around, I knew I was outside of the mall but didn’t remember how I got there. I shrugged my shoulders and took another bite. I think I need to call Mom.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ina Louise is a lifelong book lover and brand-new writer who enjoys reading and writing YA fantasy for its power to inspire and transport. A public school music teacher for over 20 years, she’s passionate about inspiring and encouraging teenagers through life’s challenges. Ina lives in Southern California and also enjoys leading worship and playing in bands, blending her love of music with her heart for uplifting others.

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