The Roast: An Urban Legend by Nathan Rosen
	Dr. and Mrs. Schneider were enjoying their evening out. For the first time in months, they had been able to leave their five-year-old daughter Naomi with a sitter and enjoy a leisurely dinner at one of the nicest restaurants in town. The entree dishes had been cleared away, and Dr. and Mrs. Schneider remained at their table in pleasant anticipation of dessert. Dr. Schneider reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cell phone. His wife glared. "Simon, what are you doing? It's rude to use that thing in a restaurant. Put it away." "I just wanted to give Rebecca a call and see how Naomi was doing." Dr. Schneider's casual tone concealed his worry. Rebecca had been the only girl in the neighborhood available to sit that night, and she had never sat for the Schneiders before. Privately, Dr. Schneider didn't fully trust her, and suspected that she might even use drugs. "Well, it's still rude to talk on the phone. If you're so worried, why not send her a text message?" "I'll do that." As Mrs. Schneider sat back in satisfaction, her husband painstakingly entered a message into his phone. "Dinner was good. Everything ok? How is naomi?" He pressed the Send key. Several minutes later, a reply made his phone beep. "Everything fine. I put roast in oven for you. See you soon." Dr. Schneider relaxed. "She says everything's fine. She even put the roast in the oven for us. That was nice of her." Mrs. Schneider looked confused. "Roast? We didn't have any roast at home. What's she talking about?" A horrible thought occurred to them both. They bolted upright. Dr. Schneider threw some cash on the table, they ran out of the restaurant, and they drove home as quickly as they could. The instant they opened the door, they smelled the unmistakable odor of slowly roasting meat. In terror, they entered the house. Mrs. Schneider ran straight for the kitchen, and in her fear she never even noticed young Naomi sitting peacefully on the couch, toying with a cellular phone. "She's fine!" Dr. Schneider called out. "She's sitting right here! But what's in the--" He was cut short by a blood-curdling scream. He ran into the kitchen, to his wife's side. Stuffed awkwardly into the oven, the corpse of Rebecca the babysitter was just reaching a golden brown.
	Copyright © 2006 Nathan Rosen