Phantom Pain
By Janet Yung


In late June, not long after Louise’s unexpected departure, a mysterious popping noise in the middle of the night pierced the quiet of the normally tranquil neighborhood. Roused from a sound sleep, Nora initially attributed the racket to the pyromaniac fireman down the block, testing out a small portion of his Fourth of July fireworks cache, imported from a county where they were legal.

She turned over and went back to sleep not thinking too much about it, with the idea she’d let Mark know the holiday season had officially begun and they could expect to find celebratory debris scattered in their back yard.

By morning, the incident had slipped Nora’s mind as she stared out the back window watching Louise’s abandoned spouse Ed, puttering in what had been Louise’s garden.; her pride and joy and the subject of several heated arguments between the two.

Nora never cared for Louise, a woman who dominated conversations, pulled weeds in Nora’s yard along with plants that weren’t weeds and tried an unsuccessful coup of the neighborhood association. “Well, if that’s the way you feel,” were the last words Louise screeched before storming out of the monthly meeting, never to return.

Louise’s disappearance had been the subject of much debate once it was known she was gone. Especially, since her gnomes, in assorted poses, lovingly selected and positioned throughout beds of hostas, begonias and geraniums, had been left in Ed‘s care.

Nora wondered if Ed missed Louise although it was difficult to imagine. More like a toothache or pain you’d become accustomed to and once it was gone, weren’t sure how to function.

“Do you think Ed killed her?” Nora speculated one evening watching Ed work a large mound of dirt approximating the dimensions of a grave.

“It would be justifiable homicide,” Mark offered, adding, “and he’d have plenty of volunteers if he wanted help concealing the evidence.”

The kettle began to whistle and Nora turned her attention to brewing a pot of tea, Mark padding barefoot across the kitchen floor.

“What would you like for breakfast?” Nora asked.

“Pancakes,” his usual Saturday morning reply.

They’d finished up the stack in silence when a resumption of the popping noise reminded Nora of last night. “Did you hear that?”

“What?” Mark, engrossed in the morning paper, tuned out everything.

“I think the fireman is getting an early start on the holiday.”

“Fireworks?” Mark looked up.

“Yes.” Nora tilted her ear in the direction of the noise. “I’ll be right back.”

Standing on the porch, Nora listened, trying to pinpoint the source. It was coming from Ed’s yard. Following another volley of popping, something smashed.

She walked slowly towards the fence dividing the two properties, uncertain what she‘d find, startled by what she saw in her neighbor‘s yard. Something must’ve snapped inside Ed or maybe he no longer felt the need for a constant reminder of Louise every time he walked from the garage to the house. Spotting her, Ed quickly retreated to the sanctuary of his home without a word.

“What’s going on?” Mark was at the door.

“Well, it’s not the fireman honing his technique.” She didn’t know how to break the news of the sudden and tragic demise of the gnomes now scattered sacrilegiously over what had once been Louise’s domain. Or, what their untimely end said about any phantom pain Ed might have experienced at the loss of Louise.


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Janet Yung lives and writes in St. Louis. Short fiction has appeared most recently in “The Shine”, “Bring the Ink”, “The Camel Saloon”,“sillymess” and "Fast Forward".