Prey for Us

by Geoffrey Neil

  “Sorry. I haven’t had time to make a copy.”

  “See, Thane? That was such a small thing I told you to do, and you still didn’t get it done. What’s the matter with you?”

  “I’m sorry, Uncle Jesse. I’ll get a spare key made for you right away.”

  “No, you won’t. Remind me when I’m there to take your key. I’ll make myself a copy.”

  Thane walked to the front of the shop and opened the garage entry door the few inches his block would allow. “Is there any way you could wait for a half hour?” he asked, looking out to the driveway.

  “What the hell for? What’s going on with you? You hiding a hooker there?” Uncle Jesse belted out a bigger laugh.

  Thane considered moving his truck toward the front of the driveway to block Uncle Jesse from driving to the back. “Never mind. Go ahead and show up. I’ll be ready.”

  †

  When Uncle Jesse’s Cadillac turned into the driveway, Thane watched through the living room window after having traveled to the house by way of his secret lift in the closet.

  Uncle Jesse parked within inches of Thane’s truck bumper, which now blocked it at the pergola.

  Thane went out to the porch and climbed down the steps to meet him.

  “What’s your truck doing there? You never park in front.”

  “Sorry.” Thane shrugged.

  “I thought I told you to move all of this trash from the flowers you were supposed to have finished yesterday.”

  Thane scanned the street. An unfamiliar car was parked a short distance away. It was a red Mercedes. Its windows were tinted, and Thane couldn’t see if anyone was inside, but this was the description Morana had given him of Waylon’s car. Although Uncle Jesse would likely be little help in an assault, having his uncle there encouraged Thane to step from the porch and approach the empty flower cartons. He tripped, staring at the car.

  Uncle Jesse went to the center of the front yard and took a couple of pictures of the house with his phone.

  Thane got on his knees and began to quickly plant the remaining flowers, looking over his shoulder every few moments at the Mercedes.

  Uncle Jesse crossed the yard a few times, inspecting the sides of the house and said, “It’s about time we give the house a facelift. I think we’ll start with a new paint job.”

  “I painted it only two years ago,” Thane said. “I think it looks fine.”

  “Overruled. Weather’s been tough on it. It’s getting painted.”

  “The last time I painted the house, it took me two weeks.”

  “I know. You’re lucky I’m not in a hurry, but I want it done. I’ll get the paint dropped off to you just like the flowers.”

  Thane shoved the last flower into the final trowel hole and tossed the empty tray on top of the others.

  Uncle Jesse walked to the porch, saying, “Now, I need to go see about that piano.”

  Thane thought he heard a car start out on the street and his head snapped toward the Mercedes. He stared at it while rushing to scoop up the empty flower trays and trowel. As his Uncle entered the house, Thane rushed after him, stumbling with the stacked trays up onto the porch. He entered the front door before it closed behind his uncle.

  “What are you doing?” Uncle Jesse said, watching Thane navigating the hallway corners with the trays. He pointed down by Thane’s feet. “You’re tracking a bunch of dirt in here, boy! Why the hell would you try to carry a bunch of filthy trays through a clean house?”

  Because I don’t want to be murdered in my driveway, Thane thought. “Because this way is shorter,” he said.

  “Look!” Uncle Jesse pointed with his toe. “You’re making a filthy mess.”

  “I’ll clean it up, I promise,” Thane said.

  “Damned right, you will,” Uncle Jesse said. He strolled toward the kitchen with his hands in his pockets, looking around the place. He drew his finger across a cabinet handle and blew dust from his finger. He wrinkled his nose and said, “I expect that to be fixed, too.”

  “Yes, I will.”

  Uncle Jesse went to the window and looked out toward the garage. “Is that the piano?”

  “Yes.”

  Uncle Jesse grinned as he crossed the kitchen and pushed out the back door.

  Thane caught the closing door with his foot and eased outside with the trays. He set them on the ground beside the back door.

  Uncle Jesse went to the piano and said, “Why is it outside the garage?”

  “I thought you wanted to see it.”

  “Yes, but you could have left it inside.” He pulled the tarp off and caressed its top. The pristine black finish and keys glistened. “Did you polish it?”

  “No, why?”

  “It’s shinier than I thought it would be,” Uncle Jesse said, grinning. “Maybe I can squeeze out more than two-and-a-half grand for it.” Uncle Jesse played a few notes, then looked over his shoulder at Thane. “Sounds like at least three grand to me!” He laughed.

  Thane watched, twisting his hands in his pockets.

  Uncle Jesse pulled a cigarette and lit it. He walked around the piano, nodding with approval, then stooped to look at its base. He gave it a half-hearted shove. Then he leaned into it, pushing it harder and failing to budge it. His cigarette flopped between his lips as he said, “This sucker has no wheels. How did you get it out here?”

  “I managed,” Thane replied.

  Uncle Jesse frowned. “You’re telling me you moved this by yourself?”

  Thane said, “I asked someone to help me.”

  Uncle Jesse looked skeptical. He took a toke on the cigarette, squinted and said, “You actually approached a neighbor?”

  “No, a man was walking by out front. I asked him if he could help me. It was quick. He was strong.”

  Uncle Jesse smirked at Thane’s explanation. He moved away from the piano and pointed at the small solar array in the yard. “I can tell you the electric bill for the house has been smaller than I’ve ever seen it lately. Are those panels the reason?”

  “No, the bills have been small because I rarely use the house.”

  “Isn’t solar power supposed to get me some sort of refund?”

  “These aren’t connected to the house. I use the electricity generated by this small array to power my experiments in the garage.”

  “Why do you need an array for that when the garage is wired for power?”

  “I wanted to learn how the solar panels worked. The solar panels themselves were an experiment.”

  “You do realize that they’re ugly as hell, don’t you? And where you’ve got them sticking up out of the middle of the yard is weird.”

  Thane looked away.

  Uncle Jesse stepped closer to him and raised his finger. “They haven’t made me a dime so you either need to get rid of them or hide them better.”

  “Yes, Uncle Jesse.”

  Thane heard a car slow down in front of the house and he felt panic rushing in.

  Uncle Jesse flicked his cigarette to the ground and snuffed it with his toe. “I don’t know when my piano buyer is available to look at this thing, so let me help you get it back inside the garage.”

  Thane winced. “No, it’s okay. I can move it later.”

  “Don’t be silly! You gonna wait for another passerby?” Uncle Jesse’s laugh triggered a brief coughing fit.

  “Please leave it to me. I’ll make sure the piano gets back inside and is covered.”

  Uncle Jesse looked from Thane to the garage and back. “What the hell you got going on in there that you’ve got all the windows covered?” He walked toward the large garage door and tried to lift it. It was locked, so he headed for the entry door.

  “Nothing!” Thane said. He moved to block his uncle.

  “Get out of my way,” Uncle Jesse said. He pushed Thane’s shoulder and sidestepped him, mumbling, “This is ridiculous.” He jiggled the doorknob. “Give me the key.”

&n
bsp; “But—”

  “Give me the goddamn key.” He held his hand out.

  Thane pulled his key ring from his pocket and flicked through the keys until he found the garage key. Uncle Jesse snatched it from him and unlocked the knob. When he pushed it open, the door opened a few inches and banged against the upright 8-ton block Thane had placed behind it.

  “What the hell is blocking this?” Uncle Jesse said.

  “I’m working on a… sculpture,” Thane said, holding out his hand for the keys.

  Uncle Jesse handed them over, then tried, and failed, to force the door open with his shoulder. The opening was wide enough for him to see into the garage with one eye at a time. He pressed his face to it, peering in. “Why in God’s name would you block the door with some damned sculpture? How are you gonna get in?”

  “I’ll use the big door,” Thane pointed.

  Uncle Jesse moved his face to use his other eye and continued inspecting the garage’s nearly-empty interior. Thane’s workbench was concealed by the sheets. All the equipment and area rugs were gone, as well as Thane’s decorative doors that Uncle Jesse remembered hanging all over the walls. All that remained were Thane’s mother’s leftover belongings, stacked near the back corner. There was a small open space between the items where the piano had been pulled out.

  “What did you do with all your crap—your tools and stuff?” Uncle Jesse said.

  “I got rid of items I didn’t need,” Thane said.

  “More like you gutted the place.” Uncle Jesse spotted the four rectangular blocks stacked high in front of the big roll-top door. He turned to Thane with an inquisitive look. “What’s in front of the other door?”

  Thane fidgeted as he said, “I’m trying to build a barricade.”

  “I can see that, but what in the hell for?”

  Thane cleared his throat, then said, “Just… protection.”

  Uncle Jesse laughed, turning back to him. “Not exactly practical if you took everything out of the garage, right?”

  Thane didn’t respond.

  Uncle Jesse stared at him for a moment, then said, “What do you have in here that someone would want? I mean, you’re acting like you’re trying to protect a fuckin’ jewelry store in there!”

  Thane shrugged.

  Uncle Jesse patted his hand on the entry door and said, “And, by the way, there’s no way you brought that piano through this tiny door. And there’s no room for it to go around those other blocks, so how are you moving all these things?”

  Thane said, “I have some pulleys and… grease, and things like that.”

  Uncle Jesse’s phone rang. He pulled it from his coat pocket. He put the phone to his ear and said, “Hold on…” then he moved closer to Thane and wagged his finger at him. “I don’t know what you’re up to. I don’t know where you’ve stashed all the stuff that was in this garage, but whatever you are doing, it damn well better not be illegal, and it better not damage the property. Got it?”

  Thane nodded.

  Uncle Jesse resumed his phone conversation and strolled along the driveway.

  Thane followed him to the front of the house.

  Before getting into his car, Uncle Jesse turned to Thane, covered his phone with his hand, and said, “Garage key.” He held out his hand.

  Thane reluctantly removed the key from his key ring and handed it over. As Uncle Jesse backed away, he said, “Expect the paint to be delivered tomorrow. I want the house done ASAP.” He pointed over Thane’s shoulder and added, “And, come to think of it, the garage could use a new coat, too.”

  After he watched his uncle drive away, Thane went back to the garage and moved the piano back inside before descending to the sub-lair. He entered a chamber stocked with the items he had removed from his garage.

  Off to one side, his decorative doors were propped against the wall. He searched through them until he found a solid door only slightly larger than the current garage entry door. He pulled it from the stack and carried it out with a few other tools that he brought up into the garage. He used a planer to trim the door’s edges, and after some sanding, he fit the new door into the door frame with the same precision he achieved with his rock blocks. He transported the old door down into the sub-lair for storage.

  On the way, he considered how furious Uncle Jesse would be when he returned with a useless key. Thane no longer cared. The attitudes and intentions of people on the surface couldn’t touch him in the sub-lair.

  He went into his bedroom and reclined on his mattress. After a few minutes, he fell asleep, well-protected in earth’s fist.

  †

  Thane woke up the next morning and rode up to the garage. Still, no sign of Gus. After checking his phone for messages, he went to the window and peeked through the crack in the edge. The driveway and backyard were clear. He returned to the sub-lair and took his secret tunnel to the bedroom lift where he ascended to the closet in the house. He cautiously stepped out and paused to listen before checking that everything else in the house remained undisturbed, and the doors were still locked.

  He prepared some toast and cereal for breakfast and watched out the kitchen window while he ate. He soon saw something that made him stop chewing. Although the distance and angle made it difficult to see, the place in front of the garage entry door he could barely make out a faint smear in the talcum powder. He dropped his bowl in the sink, splashing milk, leaned closer to the window, straining for a better view. The longer he stared at it, the faster his heart raced.

  He ran to the front of the house where he parted living room curtains wide enough to see out to the front yard. It was empty. He ran to the front door and looked through the peephole, feeling his own panicked breath on his face. The porch was empty, too. He ran to the bedroom and looked out the window to the backyard again. That, too, remained vacant. His urge to run out the back door and check the talcum powder was dwarfed by the terror of being ambushed if Waylon, or one of his associates that Morana described, was still here.

  He went into the closet, descended to the sub-lair and hurried to the garage lift, riding it back up into the garage. He unlocked the entry door and then repositioned the 8-ton block that obstructed it so that he could fit his head and one arm outside. He held the doorknob tightly and quietly opened it. He knelt and examined the area outside the door where he had seen the smear from the kitchen. A shiver shot through him. Along the full length of the garage’s front, his talcum powder revealed footprints and a dark smear where someone had pivoted several times at the entry door. His eyes welled up, and he clenched his jaw. He wondered if his uncle had returned in an attempt to pick up the piano, but the shoe size was too large. And the tread in the talcum powder was knotty, like that from a boot, not the smooth print from the worn loafers his uncle always wore.

  He squatted for a closer look, and then scanned the backyard again, checking both sides of the house. He opened the door enough to squeeze his torso out. He looked along the outside of the garage windows and saw smudge marks at the edge of two of them.

  He examined the outside doorknob and felt a rush of terror as the powder had been almost completely smeared off and a tuft of hair stuck to the side of the knob. He pinched it between his fingers and examined it. It was the same color as Gus’s fur.

  He backed into the garage, slammed the door shut, and locked the knob.

  Within two minutes, Thane had added a second eight-ton block next to the first—an obstruction a bulldozer couldn’t breach.

  He went to the phone to check for messages. None. He picked up the handset and had trouble holding his finger steady enough to dial Morana. One ring… Two rings… Three rings… Four rings…

  “Hello.”

  “Thank God,” Thane blurted.

  “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

  “Where have you been? Why don’t you ever call me? I’ve been trying to reach you. Everything you said you would do, you haven’t done, and now I’m in trouble. I just�
��”

  “Thane, stop!” Morana said. “You need to calm down. Why are you hysterical?”

  “He’s been here!” Thane replied, hyperventilating. “Waylon was here, and he left some of Gus’s fur on the doorknob. He has my cat.”

  “Why would he do that? Are you certain it’s fur that didn’t transfer from your hand after you pet Gus?”

  “Gus doesn’t shed. This hair is half an inch long and looks cropped. It’s Waylon. He’s taunting me. This is what he does.”

  “Thane, I need you to breathe. Was this today?”

  “Yes. You were supposed to have taken care of him, and you haven’t.”

  “I know you’re frustrated, but there’s a logical explanation. I will explain everything, but first, how do you know it was Waylon?”

  Thane paused to swallow, catching his breath. “I found shoe prints in the talcum and fingerprints on the knob. There are smudges on the outside windows where he put his hands against them, probably trying to spy on me.”

  “Did he try to break in?”

  “Probably. I’ve fixed it so that he can’t.”

  “Are you worried that he might still be there?”

  “If he is, then he’s hiding because I don’t see him.”

  “I want you to stay there. Do not leave the garage.”

  “Of course, I’m not leaving. I thought you were tracking him. Why should I have to call you and tell you that he’s been here? You should know where he is. You said you would handle this!”

  “I know, but there’s been a small problem… I’ve lost the tracking signal on his car.”

  “Small? You’re kidding me. When were you planning to tell me this?”

  “I knew you were safe in the garage, I didn’t want to panic you, and I’m telling you now. Clay will fix this problem. I’m on my way to your place.”

  “Why are you coming here?”

  “To protect you.”