In Mad Hands: A Novella, page 1
Copyright © 2025 Jon Athan
All Rights Reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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First Edition
Thank you for your support!
ALSO BY JON ATHAN
Our Dead Girlfriend: Author’s Enhanced Edition (2025)
Are Your Parents Home? (2024)
Blender Babies (2023)
Shared by Two (2022)
The Girl in the Attic (2021)
The Groomer (2020)
Lovesick (2019)
Party Games (2018)
The Abuse of Ashley Collins (2017)
A Family of Violence (2016)
WARNING
This book contains scenes of intense violence and some disturbing themes. Some parts of this book may be considered violent, cruel, disturbing, or unusual. This book is not intended for those easily offended or appalled. Please enjoy at your own discretion.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Join the Mailing List
Dear Reader
1
THE ARRIVAL
The doorbell rang.
The aged metal number on the door read: 704.
Kristine Sloan stood in the hallway, head slightly tilted down and hands gripping the straps of her backpack. Her face was a stony mask of apathy—eyes glazed over, lips set in a straight line, face motionless. A child’s screaming and some muffled voices made it past the front door before dying out in the corridor. Footsteps thudded across a hardwood floor, getting louder with each step. A woman hollered something inside.
Kristine forced a small smile onto her face upon hearing a lock click. The door flew open. A boy’s laughter, accompanied by the stomping of his little feet on the floorboards, burst into the hallway. Yoselyn Cooper stood in the doorway. Her long, wavy black hair stretched down to the middle of her back. She was wearing a burgundy minidress and a pair of slippers, almost ready to go out.
“Kristine,” the woman said with a hint of surprise. She checked her wristwatch. “Are you early? Or are we late?”
“I’m always ten minutes early, ma’am,” Kristine answered. “But I can wait out here or come back later if you want. No biggie.”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that. I’m sorry, we just, uh... We lost track of time again. River, he, um... He makes us lose our minds sometimes, y’know?”
Yoselyn gave a little laugh. Kristine just nodded. The muscles in her cheeks started to tremble subtly as she struggled to keep the smile on her face. In the apartment, Yoselyn’s husband, Joel, called out to their son, River. He was trying to convince the boy to get ready for his bath. River, however, was in the midst of his ‘terrible twos.’ He was having too much fun defying his parents and running around his bedroom to listen.
Yoselyn beckoned to Kristine. “Come in, come in. I’m sorry about the mess. I meant to clean up before you got here, but... Well, you know how it is.”
Kristine stepped into the home. Toys—building blocks, stuffed animals, cars and trains—littered the living room floor. One of the sofa cushions had a large wet spot on it. Yoselyn had cleaned a juice spill just a few minutes earlier. A wide archway at the other end of the room led into the kitchen, which was visible over the bar. Joel and River were in a bedroom down the hall to the left.
“River just finished his dinner,” Yoselyn said. “We wanted to give him a bath before you got here, but he’s been getting more and more stubborn these past few weeks. I swear, he’s like a completely different kid compared to last year.”
“He’s just going through a phase,” Kristine responded. “He’s growing. Learning. Experimenting. Testing what he can do and what he can get away with. Every child goes through it and every parent swears their kid turned into Damien overnight.”
“Damien?” Yoselyn repeated with one eyebrow raised.
“Y’know, the kid from The Omen.”
“Right.” Yoselyn said, dragging out the word while snickering. “Well, I think River’s a little more like Chucky these days.”
Kristine laughed with her. Down the hall, River could be heard howling like a wolf. His obsession with wolves was sparked by his favorite bedtime stories, The Three Little Pigs and Little Red Riding Hood. His dad would always growl and howl when he read those stories to him. Joel spoke to the boy. Although his words were muted by the walls, his exhaustion and frustration were clear.
“I can give him a bath,” Kristine said.
Hands on her hips, Yoselyn glanced over at the hallway and rubbed the nape of her neck. Doubt crossed her face.
She brought her attention back to Kristine. “Sorry, I don’t think I ever asked you before: Do you know CPR? Like, first aid and all that?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m certified in childcare by the Red Cross. I also took lessons at the daycare I work at when I got hired there. I’m sure I discussed this with your husband the first time I had the pleasure of taking care of River.”
“Well, I guess–”
A crashing sound interrupted her.
“Uh-oh,” River exclaimed, emphasizing each syllable.
“Everything okay over there?!” Yoselyn called out.
From down the hall, Joel responded, “All good! Little man dropped that stupid cart. Again.”
River tried to mimic his dad. “Stoo-pit.”
“Shit, don’t say that word, okay?”
“Shit!”
“No, no, don’t copy...”
Joel’s voice faded away. Yoselyn sighed, rolled her eyes, then facepalmed. Yet, despite her displeasure, she couldn’t stop herself from smirking.
Bringing her voice back down to a conversational tone, she said, “Okay. It would be very helpful if you could give him a bath. Just make sure it’s not too hot. And don’t let it get too cold, either. And make sure you dry him off right after. Especially his hair. It takes a long time to dry and I don’t want him catching a cold if it’s still wet when he goes to sleep. And maybe you should wait a few more minutes to let his stomach settle. I don’t want him getting cramps or–”
“I got it, Mrs. Cooper,” Kristine interrupted with a half-smile. “Everything’s under control. Trust me.”
“Yeah, um... Yeah, of course,” Yoselyn said, looking unsure. “You’re a... professional. I’ll be right back, okay? I’ve gotta help Joel before he teaches River every swear in the English language. Make yourself at home.”
“Thank you. Let me know if you need any help. I don’t mind starting a few minutes early.”
“You’re a sweetheart,” Yoselyn said as she walked away. “Wish us luck!”
The woman strolled down the hallway. Although unintelligible, her voice joined Joel’s in the bedroom. River woofed at his parents.
Kristine looked at the full-body mirror in the corner of the room near the front door. River’s fingerprints were stamped all over the glass at the bottom. She turned her body to face the mirror and eyed her own reflection, as if sizing herself up. Her brown hair touched her shoulders. Freckles speckled her cheeks. There was an almost imperceptible hollowness to her green eyes. She wore a gray long-sleeve button-up shirt, denim overalls, and sneakers.
She wrenched her gaze away from the mirror. Walking around the room, she scanned the photographs hanging from the walls. All smiles, the pictures depicted the Cooper family in various locations—home, a zoo, a beach, a couple of parks. She stopped and stared down the hallway. It wasn’t her first time there, so she was familiar with the place. There were two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a storage closet down that hall.
Yoselyn’s voice came from the closest room.
“At least let me change your diaper,” she was saying.
“No!” River cried out.
“Honey, please.”
“No! No! No!”
Kristine approached the kitchen bar and peered into the room. Her eyes traveled over the appliances on the counters, the stove, and the refrigerator. The purple twilight sky could be seen through the window over the sink. She gave a nod of determination and swung around but came to an abrupt stop. The Magnavox rear-projection television in the corner of the living room seized her attention.
An episode of a children’s educational show played on mute. Although no sound came out of the speakers, the TV called to her. With her head tilted to the side, she crept towards it with ca
“Are you there?” she murmured.
The TV remained muted.
The corners of Kristine’s lips flipped up and down, cycling between a smile and a frown. She reached for it but stopped short of touching it, her fingertips hovering over the textured screen.
She said, “I’ll finish what–”
Giggling, River tottered hurriedly into the living room. Kristine snapped back into reality and drew her hand away from the TV. She glanced over her shoulder and faked a smile. The little boy crashed into the side of the sofa. He was shirtless and barefoot, only wearing a pair of pants with different cartoon cars all over them.
“Hello,” he said as he attempted to climb onto the sofa’s armrest.
“Hey,” Kristine responded.
Joel walked into the room. He was a tall, burly guy. His black hair was cut high and tight. He kept some stubble on his jaw. His outfit wasn’t as flashy as his wife’s—a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black jeans, and dress shoes. He held one of River’s shirts in his hand.
“Sorry, Kristine,” he said as he walked up to the sofa. “He might be more of a handful since the last time you saw him.”
He pulled River off the armrest. There and then, the boy wailed and swung his limbs around frantically, acting as if a stranger were kidnapping him. Joel started wrestling the shirt onto him.
“Don’t worry about it,” Kristine said. “We’ll get along just fine. Isn’t that right, River?”
River kept fighting with his dad until Joel managed to get the kid’s arms through the sleeves. The boy stopped crying after a few seconds, looked around the room as if he were lost, then went back to smiling while climbing the sofa’s armrest.
In a pair of high heels, Yoselyn came into the living room while putting an earring on. “Ready?”
“Yup,” Joel answered. He ruffled River’s hair. “Be a good boy tonight, okay? Love you.”
He kissed the back of his head, then walked over to the console table near the front door and gathered his belongings.
Yoselyn approached River. “You be good, okay? We’ll be back in a little bit. Mommy loves you. Yes, she does.”
As she kissed the back of his head, River laughed and swung an elbow back at her. He struck her shoulder. Yoselyn leaned away from him to avoid his second and third swings. She sighed as she stood up and adjusted her dress. Half of her face was scrunched up in annoyance while the look of adoration never left the other half.
“Still love you,” she said, smiling warmly. She went to the console table and grabbed her handbag. “Everything’s in the same place as last time. Diapers, bottles, milk, extra clothes. He’s usually in bed around eight, eight-thirty at the latest. Just give him some warm water and he’ll knock himself out. And call if anything happens. Anything, okay?”
“Got it,” Kristine answered as she followed them to the front door.
Joel opened the door and stepped out. “Have a good night, you two.”
Trailing behind her husband, Yoselyn shouted, “Good night! Bye bye, River!”
“Bah bye!” River blurted out with unbridled enthusiasm.
His parents chuckled as they walked away. Kristine stood in the doorway and stuck her head out into the hallway. She watched Joel and Yoselyn stroll towards an elevator at the end of the hall.
“Have a nice night!” she yelled. “Don’t worry, he’s in good hands!”
They waved back at her while chatting about their plans. Kristine closed the door, secured the deadbolt and fastened the door chain, then checked the locks two more times. She turned around steadily, then leaned back against the door. Her eyes flicked over to River. He was still trying to climb onto the armrest.
“Bath time,” Kristine said coldly.
2
THE DRIVE
Only the clicking of the turn signal broke the silence in the car.
Joel was driving, one hand on the steering wheel. Yoselyn sat in the front passenger seat. Joel took a right and turned off the blinker. An awkward silence invaded the interior of the vehicle. It was their first time going out for themselves without River since his birth. They had hired babysitters before, but it was only when their work schedules overlapped and they needed someone to take care of their kid.
“It’s too quiet,” Yoselyn said softly, as if afraid of startling her husband. “I hate it when it’s like this. Makes me feel like something’s wrong.”
“Yeah, me too. How about some music?”
Joel turned a knob on the radio. Blue (Da Ba Dee) by Eiffel 65 played through the speakers. They side-eyed each other, then snickered. The music reminded them of their son. The boy loved bouncing and bopping his head along to the song. They weren’t the biggest fans of the track, though. Uninterested in cycling through every radio station, Joel lowered the volume until the music was just some background noise.
Yoselyn glanced at the back seat through the rearview mirror. She imagined River sitting in the child’s safety seat back there, playing with his toy train while spewing an endless babble of baby talk.
“You remember the last time we went out?” Joel asked, keeping his eyes on the road. “I mean, the last time we went on a real date?”
“I do. It was, um... just a few weeks before River was born.”
“We went to that Mexican restaurant. What was it called? God, what–”
“I know the one.”
“–was it? La, uh... No, it was ‘El.’ Yeah, El Chilito. That’s it. The small chili, right?”
“And I know where you’re going with this,” Yoselyn continued, a smile tugging at her lips.
Joel was fighting off a grin himself. “What do you mean? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re never gonna let me forget that day, are you?”
The car rolled to a stop at a red light.
Joel said, “Why would you want to forget a day like that? Delicious food. Live mariachi music. Projectile vomit.”
Yoselyn laughed. “And there it is.”
“What? C’mon, y’know me, babe, I’m a big fan of The Exorcist. When you started throwing up those green enchiladas, I felt like I was in a–a... a reenactment of Regan’s exorcism. Right there, y’know? Right in the splash zone.”
“I had morning sickness, asshole.” Yoselyn gave his arm a playful slap. “God, you’re so stupid. Just shut up and drive.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” Joel responded, a look of proud amusement lighting up his face.
The traffic light turned green, so he cruised forward. Yoselyn leaned against the door and looked out the window. She saw an older woman pushing a flimsy, wobbly stroller on the sidewalk. Her smile slowly sank.
In a droning tone, she said, “I forgot to tell her something.”
“Huh?”
“Kristine. I forgot to tell her about River’s new sleep routine. If the water doesn’t knock him out, he’ll need some warm milk. I should call ‘em. Or... Or maybe we should just go back.”
Wide-eyed, Joel said, “You wanna go all the way back just for that?”
“You know how he is these days. If he doesn’t fall asleep with the first bottle, he’ll just keep crying and crying until he gets what he wants. And it could take her all night to figure out that he wants some milk.”
“He’ll sleep eventually.”
“But then his whole sleep schedule will be out of whack all day tomorrow. Maybe it’ll even change his bedtime permanently. Or what if she just leaves him in his room? Y’know, maybe she’s like you and she assumes he’ll sleep ‘eventually.’ What if he tries to climb out of his crib when she’s not looking?”
“You might be overthinking it, babe.”
“So? Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? We’re parents. If we don’t overthink, bad things can and will happen. If he falls out of his crib, he could hit his head or hurt his neck or break an arm. He can seriously hurt himself.”
Joel nodded as he stopped at another red light. He agreed with the general idea—he had a tendency to overthink about River, too—but he also believed in finding a balance. Overthinking could prevent accidents and ensure safety. But left unchecked, it could also open the door to obsession and madness.
