Maker of Strange Children Part 3 – 5 – JP Vallières
September 21, 2026
PART 3
The bat circled the children three times before returning to its home in the closet.
“Who let the bats in the house?” asked a boy.
“Bats are fascinating creations!” said Claudia with a grin. “Did you know a bat can collapse their bones to fit into the tiniest crevice? Bats only need the slightest of cracks to move through,” she indicated a small space between her chubby thumb and forefinger, revealing how small a space a bat really needs. “Bats are as sly as our sins. All there needs to be in your soul is a slight crack, and like that!” she snapped her fingers. “Sin enters!”
The children did not breathe, they wheezed.
“Can’t we kill the bats and eat them?” asked the rebellious boy.
“Son, He gives and He takes away.”
“I’m so cold,” said the rebellious boy. “Can’t we start a fire?”
Claudia straightened herself and gave a deep sigh. “Son, our Savior will light the fire when He comes. Have faith.”
“But they have fire,” said a girl pointing out the window. The children looked to see flickers of red light on the glass.
They could hear the men singing and laughing. From time to time they could hear a baby or two giggling as if they were being tickled to death.
“I’m so thirsty,” said the rebellious boy. “The well is full, Ma. I looked down into it this morning. All I want is some clean water.”
“Oh, disobedient son, you know the water is for the garden.”
“Even the little crawling bugs drink the water,” said the boy.
“Not another word,” said Claudia.
They sat silently in the cold of the room. The reek from the stale vomit sat over the children. More bats fluttered out and weaved through the shadows of the house. The men outside began beating a dull drum at odd rhythms. The boy with the scab moaned as he itched.
Soon it was time to lie down. Claudia closed the flame on the oil lamp and stood, “It’s time to rest.” She walked around the children, softly patting them with the end of the stick.
“Sleep my small doves,” she said. “Time to sleep.”
The children draped over each other, exhausted.
•
Hours later, Claudia circled the sleeping children, tapping the stick to the floor in front of her. The men’s laughter faded over the green hills as they returned to whatever evil land they came from.
There was no more singing, laughter, nor fire.
Now the darkness centered in the house like a black hole.
Bats came and went. The bats pleased Claudia. Creatures that could see through the dark without sight! Imagine, she thought, if I could see my way in the dark… She smiled as she dreamed of being a black bat in the quiet night.
The children took turns crying out. Claudia calmed their night terrors with shushes and whispers of the Savior’s promises, her heavy steps creaking the floor below.
PART 4
With the morning light Claudia stirred the children with her stick. She prodded them tenderly in the ribs. “Come come, my little doves. Time to do your chores.”
The children picked up their buckets and, with their other hand, held their sick protruding bellies.
The day was bright and the sun was warm on their skin. They dragged themselves to the well to fetch the water.
Each child filled their bucket and with great effort carried them to the ransacked garden.
Claudia watched the rebellious boy as an eagle watches its prey, making sure he didn’t dare dip his sick hand in. She wanted nothing to spoil the water.
The children poured the water over the garden. And then poured again, making sure to cover every seed, leaf, and stem.
They stood around the shining plot, awaiting the miracle. This is what they liked best.
First, the vegetables sprang forth: tomatoes swelled, beans sprouted, broccoli, leafy greens, asparagus grew like little arms, squash, cucumbers, a hundred miracles ripened at once, in an instant. Then the raspberry bush popped plump red berries, on the verge of explosion.
The children never got tired of seeing the Savior’s miracle. The sacred food given from above.
How obvious is the love of the Savior. All their sufferings justified in the miracle. There was nothing left to question.
Claudia smiled and said, “See children, do you see how the Savior proves His love for us?”
The children smiled, brushing the hair out of their eyes. It was still so early. The men wouldn’t be charging over the hills until dusk.
Claudia felt the pleasure of the Savior. If it wasn’t for pleasing Him she knew this life would all be for nothing. A warmness that only comes from obedient submission filled her desperate soul. My Savior is pleased with me, she thought. As she looked over the blessed land a great joy enlivened her.
The rebellious boy saw the satisfaction on Claudia’s fat face. He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand and licked his dry lips. He looked out over the hills to the forest beyond. He had never seen a river or creek but had heard of their existence. He dropped his bucket, closed his eyes, and imagined what it would be like to submerge his whole body in water.
He looked down into his bucket. There was still some water left. Not much, but if he tipped it enough he could submerge a few fingers.
Without thought he dipped two fingers in, three, all the way and pulled them out and sucked the water. The water was sweet and cold. His eyes widened, and something inside felt a relief he’d never understood before. The boy exhaled deeply.
As he went to reach into the bucket for the second time a great thunder rang in his ears. He fell and then held his ears tight so as not to hear the thunder again.
“Boy!” shouted Claudia, her right palm in the air, ready to strike once more. “What have you done?”
The boy was confused. He looked at the cloudless sky. He unplugged his ears and listened to the world around him. There was no thunder. The bucket was tipped, the water pooling in a dipped section of grass.
“Ma,” said the boy. “Ma, the water!”
“Shut up,” said Claudia. “Shut your mouth and stand.”
The boy slowly came to his feet. Any healing in his gut was overtaken by sickness once more.
“There is no room for the unrighteous,” said Claudia. “You must go.” She pointed her stick to the hills.
“But Ma, no!” cried the boy. “The men, Ma. The men are out there. You know I can’t go out there alone. I’ve never left you.”
She closed her eyes and repeated herself. “There is no room for the wicked.”
The boy hunched over and began trudging toward the hills. His mind emptied itself of any hope he ever had. What was ahead he couldn’t conceive, for he knew nothing of the world beyond the green hills.
PART 5
The boy wandered without hope, dragging his feet, toward the dark forest. He already missed his brothers and sisters. He wished they were with him, holding his hand or rubbing his back. He even wished Claudia would come alongside and gently prod his shoulder with her stick. Hush, hush, little one, she would say.
The boy sat in the grass, covered his face with his hands, and cried. There was nothing left for him to do. The tears mixed with the dirt on his face and made ugly black streaks.
He was exhausted and only thought of the ways he could die: starvation, eaten by a wild animal, drown in a river, etc. He’d prefer to drown.
He laid down in the grass, defeated and lonesome.
•
When the sun was high and hot, he covered his eyes with his hand. He wanted to find shade, but was too tired to move.
It was then he noticed something in the grass, moving toward him.
A long slender snake. The snake was green with yellow polka dots. The snake raised its head above the grass and looked at the boy.
Without thinking, the boy sat up and snatched the snake right below the head. With his other hand he wiped the tears from his eyes. He brought the snake up close. He wanted to inspect the snake. He wanted to know it.
The snake’s eyes were black, its split tongue wriggled out as if it was trying to lick the tears off the boy’s face.
“Snake,” said the boy. “It’s good to have a friend.”
He then stood and with snake in hand began walking toward the forest.
•
After entering the dark forest the boy found himself walking through what appeared to be a graveyard. However, instead of gravestones there were little arms sticking out of the ground. One of the little hands reached out and grabbed the boy’s ankle. The boy took his snake and whipped the hand.
There was laughter coming from above. He looked and found little bare-chested men with big furry bellies pointing and laughing at him. He recognized them as the same men who carried the babies over the hills to Claudia’s garden. But they were so tiny, harmless, like thirty fat cats in the trees.
“You bury your babies?” asked the boy.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” said the men.
“We didn’t know you were so small.”
“We didn’t know! We didn’t know!” mocked the men.
The boy walked on, all the while hearing the men mocking him – We didn’t know! We didn’t know!
•
The snake he held looked over at him and seemed on the verge of speech. But what the boy heard came from somewhere else.
“Whatcha got there, son?”
He nearly stumbled over a man wearing a dirty hat, sitting against a tree.
“Where’d you come from?” asked the boy. “I didn’t see you.”
“I’ve never left,” said the man. “Now tell me son. What you holding that snake for?”
The boy hadn’t thought about why he held a snake. He just did.
“My son, you never can tell with snakes. Are they good? Evil?”
“Our Savior created them.”
“Ha!” laughed the man. “Sounds like you got it all figured out.” He leaned his head against the tree and covered his face with his hat. “There’s just nothing I can teach a boy like you.”
The boy wanted to talk to the man but didn’t know what to say.
“Don’t you see I’m trying to get some shut eye?” The man turned his hat up and peeked out at the boy. “But since you’re here. Can I tell you one thing I know?”
“I’d like that.”
“I seen you coming into my woods. I seen you holding that snake. You think you come to feel something you’ve never felt before? You come to put some fat over those scrawny ribs? Let me tell you son, where you’re headed there ain’t no turning back.”
“Ma said I was wicked.”
“Yeah son, don’t you got it all figured out. Now you and that snake need to hurry on and let me get my shut eye,” he said as he covered his face again. “If truth be told, this world ain’t no place.”
The boy began to walk but the man spoke once more, “My boy, wait just a hair. I nearly forgot.” He began rummaging frantically through his satchel until he pulled out a shirt with buttons. “This will keep you warm. It’s meant for a man but you’ll fill it out some day.”
The man helped him with the shirt. He buttoned the little buttons and rolled up the sleeves. The shirt sagged to the boy’s knees.
“Now that’s better.” The man searched again in his sack and pulled out a sheet of paper. “One last thing, I promise,” said the man as he began excitedly folding the paper. “If you could do me a favor?” He put the folded piece of paper into the boy’s shirt pocket. “Please give this to our Virgin Mary.”
“The Virgin Mary? Will I see her?”
“Oh yes, she’s not far off.”
“How will I know it’s her?”
“You’ll know. Now promise me you won’t read this little note. Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“If you read this little note curses will be on your life. One evil event after another will befall you. You hear me?”
“I promise,” said the boy. “But why don’t you give it to her yourself?”
“You can only meet with our Virgin Mary once in a lifetime. I’ve already met her.”
“What’s she like?”
The man sat back against the tree. “You’ll find out,” he said. “Soon enough.” He covered his face with his dirty hat.
A soft snore began.
•
The boy followed the path before him. At some point he noticed the stiffness of his snake. It appeared more like a long straight branch than a serpent. He grabbed the head and prodded the earth. It was stiff and strong, just like Claudia’s stick. He tapped the head of the snake, but neither mouth, split-tongue, nor eyes moved.
As he walked he felt comforted by his new walking stick, and every so often on his journey, he’d touch his pocket to make sure the man’s note was still there, safe and secure.