“You’re fucked, Amber Lynn,” was all she said and walked straight back to our house fast like he was right behind us. My sister took one look at the half-in-two Cadillac and shook her head. That was a year ago and we’d all forgotten about it. That was their job because they were older, but they stood around laughing too loud while I did it. I shouldn’t have done it, but they dared me to and I was only seven and didn’t know any better. That’s when I knew he was coming for me and they were right: You really can call him with a stupid rhyme, a piece of white thread, and just one drop of blood. I didn’t really mean to believe in him until he split Miss Minnie’s big white Cadillac right down the middle like one of the pictures in the science books at school where you can see the insides of cows and chickens only it wasn’t pink stomachs and red hearts inside, it was gray seat stuffing, Tic-Tacs, wires, plastic, and melted metal. When Mom heard us talking about the Get-Get Man, her face went still and sharp, sort of like when she has to drive into the sun on the way home from DayPlay, so we stopped talking about it in front of her. Mooznick said, but Mom says she’s always making stuff up and it wasn’t on the News so it couldn’t be real. She wouldn’t get out of bed until the police came. That lady said it was like someone unwrapped the thing out of thin air. That bird bath turned up all the way across town in some lady’s bedroom. Weaver had made especially in the shape of Jesus. The Get-Get Man steals things from the world, borrows them really, because they usually show up in another place, cut out and put somewhere else. He was just a story though until someone spotted the Get-Get Man over in Greenwood and once in Tchula, but that old woman had cataracts so it could have been a shadow or the line of smoke from her cigarette.
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The Get-Get Man makes a sound like a badly played violin, the rattle of chain link fences, the hiss of cats as they curl up and away in tight. If you see him head on it’s probably too, late because which way would you run anyway? He is as wide as the sky, deeper than the grave, and he always gets what he came for. They say you can only see him from the side. He cuts through the yards and streets, slicing and taking what doesn’t make way. The Get-Get Man travels at night, sharp as a scalpel, dark as soot.