by Ward Wagher
“And you don’t mess with her much,” Larry said.
“Darn tootin’ I don’t. I’m not afraid of snakes, but I learned down in Florida that you don’t mess with them either.”
“I sort of had a mama grizzly in mind.”
“Mmmm,” she said as she tasted the cheese sauce. “You may have a point.”
She picked up the pot and drained the water out of it, and set it back on the fire. She then poured the cheese sauce over the cooked macaroni.
“I thought after supper we would go back over to the office and see if any responses came in from your inquiries.”
“We could do that in the morning,” Larry said.
“In the morning I have to work,” she said. “Besides, you aren’t doing anything tonight.”
“I really don’t want to go out after dark, anymore.”
“Poor baby,” she said. “It’s all of fifty degrees out there tonight. You could bound around in your undies and be fine.”
“I don’t think I want to trot across to the office in my undies, thank you very much,” he grumbled.
“Right. We’ll just nip over there for ten or fifteen minutes and come back. I’ll protect you.”
He turned to face the windows and rolled his eyes.
“I saw that, Larry.”
“Cripes, Maggie. Sometimes, you are not very much fun.”
“Being out on the street is not very much fun. Which is where you will be if we don’t find something for you to put your hands on.”
“All right, all right. We can go over after we eat.”
§ § §
Larry found more incoming email than he expected. Several of his query notes had produced rejections, however, a few requested more information. He found things to be mildly encouraging.
“See, it was a good thing we came over tonight,” Maggie said.
“I have to admit that I feel better about things,” Larry said. “I guess you were right.”
“Let’s go ahead and get these requests taken care of tonight. That may remove an extra day from the process.”
With Maggie coaching him, Larry was able to reply to most of the items during that session. Larry noticed the clock on his computer display read 9:30 PM.
“We probably need to call it a night, Mags,” he said.
“Yeah, I have an early day tomorrow,” she replied as she stood, and pulled on her jacket. “And you get your coat on, Mister. It has probably cooled down out there.”
“Yes, Mother.”
She cuffed him on the back of the head. “Show a little respect.”
They walked the long hallway and stepped out on to the plaza. He held the door for her and then turned to follow. He bumped into her as he heard the door behind them close with an audible click. He looked to see what had halted her.
Within the darkness of the night, the slightly less dark forms of the grey wolves were barely distinguishable. He likely would not have noticed them, himself. With the greatly reduced human footprint on the planet, much of the wildlife had snapped back. It was not unusual to notice wildlife in the carcass of Boston and Cambridge, although the wolves were not often spotted. They would prowl after dark, hunting for some hapless deer, sheltering in the ruins, and had been known to take down individual people.
“I think we might want to wait inside, Larry,” Maggie said in a quavery voice.
“No argument.”
He turned and pulled on the door. “Well, pig offal! Not again.”
“What?”
“The door is locked. Again.”
Maggie whirled around and grabbed the door handle. “I do not believe this.”
“Somebody is out to get me,” Larry said heatedly. “I just do not understand this.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Got your light?” he asked.
“Of course.”
“Well, pull it out and light the place up,” Larry said.
“I’m not sure I understand,” she replied.
“Just do it, Mags.”
Maggie’s Eterna Light had been a Christmas gift when she was twelve years old. It was a rather impractical gift, but she had begged her parents for it. The light was not quite eternal. While it would work for days, it did eventually require recharging. Its impracticality lay in that it was much too bright to be used indoors. But, it did a fine job of lighting up the plaza between the school complex and Maseeh Hall.
The light also revealed the magnitude of the threat. There was at least a dozen of the wolves crouched at the end of the block, and fortunately blinded by the light. Although it was a frozen tableau, they could clearly hear the low growls of the lupine beasts.
“Keep the light on them, Maggie. Let’s head for home.”
“Right.”
They began walking while keeping the light on the wolfpack. It seemed like they edged forward as they walked.
“Don’t run, Maggie,” Larry said. “If we panic, they will have us.”
“They may anyway.”
They reached the stairwell door of Maseeh Hall, and Larry yanked on it.
“Oh, for pity’s sake.”
“Not again,” she responded. “The door is locked?”
“Yes. I thought they removed the mechanisms,” he said.
“We gotta get around to the front door,” she said.
“And you want to bet those are locked too?”
“I’m not taking your bet, tonight, Mister.”
“Right. Let’s go.”
The wolf pack seemed to creep forward, and follow their progress along to the front of the hall, but were obviously reluctant to get closer. As they rounded the corner of the building, Maggie turned and walked backward, keeping the light trained on the creeping threat. They arrived at the main entrance and Larry pulled at the door.
“Guess what?” he said.
“Don’t tell me it’s locked again.”
Larry started pounding on the door. He yanked and rattled the doors, and the elderly mechanisms produced a gratifying amount of noise.
“Open the door,” he yelled. “Somebody, get the door open!”
This time there was not a winter storm to muffle the sounds, and faces appeared in the windows of the hall. He saw Mrs. Willow marching to the door. She pushed on it, and it opened quietly, and easily.
“You are making enough noise to wake the dead, Mr. Berthold. You must stop disturbing the peace.”
“The doors were all locked, Mrs. Willow.”
“This door was not locked,” she said, speaking to him as if he was a dimwitted child.
“It most certainly was.”
“Whatever,” Maggie interrupted. “We need to get in before we’re dinner for somebody.”
Mrs. Willow peered into the night. “Very well, come in, then. I don’t know what you two were doing out this late. You two are lacking sense.”
Maggie turned off the Eterna Light and stepped in. The wolves moved closer and stared at the humans behind the doors.
“Thank you, Mrs. Willow,” Larry said. “You did save our lives.”
“As if it was worth saving,” she grumped.
She turned around and marched back to her apartment. Maggie and Larry looked at each other and then moved toward the stairs.
CHAPTER SIX
“I’ve gotta get out of this place,” Larry muttered as he looked out the window of his flat into the late afternoon.
“Why do you want to do that?” Maggie asked from where she sat, cross-legged on the bed.
“I’m out of money and somebody is trying to kill me. Isn’t that enough?”
“Are you sure it isn’t just coincidental?”
He shook his head and turned to face her. “What do you think? Doors that only seem to lock when I am outside; twice. Me losing my stipend out of the clear blue. If the other shoe hasn’t dropped, I don’t want to be here when it does.”
“Where will you go?” she asked.
“Does it matter? I’m concerned about m
y life expectancy, here.”
“I think you are worried about a couple of odd events. Why would anybody be after you, Larry?”
“I don’t know. But something about me has obviously gotten somebody’s ire up.”
“I think it was just coincidental,” she said. “Fluffy was horrified at what happened. Even the dean was upset.”
“You were with me when the doors locked and we couldn’t get back in. Why are you playing this down, Maggie?”
“I think there is a problem with the doors and we were the ones who happened to get caught with it.”
He stared at her. “How can you say that. Lock mechanisms don’t simply fuse on their own.”
“Well, I agree that some weird things are going on, but I have trouble believing they are targeted only at you.”
“Hello, I was the one caught outside when the doors locked. Twice.”
“I was with you the second time. Maybe whoever it is is after me.”
“Come on, Maggie.”
“Listen, I am trying to keep you from jumping to conclusions. Someone may well be after you, but if we assume that, we may be missing something else.”
“Okay, then what do you think we should do?” Larry asked.
“I am going to ask around and see if anyone else is having weird things happen to them,” she said. “If there are others, then you can get off this paranoid kick.”
“Maybe I ought to just pack up and leave before my money runs out.”
“Let’s give it a couple more days, Larry. I hate to see you just throw away everything you’ve done here.”
“We’re talking in circles,” he said. “I need to make a decision.”
She unfolded her legs and stood up. Walking over to the window she said, “It’s too late in the day to do something now. Let me talk to some people and if we can’t resolve this, you can leave tomorrow.”
She turned and walked towards the door. Larry followed her.
“Listen, Maggie, I appreciate you listening to me. You’ve always been sane.”
“And I have common sense,” she replied.
“Not a lot of humility, though.”
Her eyes twinkled as she looked at him. “Pot calling the kettle black?”
The conversation was interrupted when the window exploded inward with a crash. Larry jumped and Maggie yelped. Larry ran over to the window and looked out, then turned around and looked at the shards littering his floor. He bent over and picked up a brick.
“Do you still think it’s my imagination?”
There were voices in the hallway and pounding on the door. “Are you all right in there?”
Maggie turned and opened the door. Seb Sylvester stepped into the flat. Several of the other students peered around the door. “What happened?”
Larry held up the brick. “This just came through the window.”
Sylvester walked across the room, crunching on the broken glass. He looked out the window and then back at Larry.
“We’re on the fourth floor, Berthold, nobody can throw a brick that far.”
“What would you suggest, then?” Larry asked.
Sylvester turned to Maggie. “Did you see what happened?”
“I was just leaving,” she said. “Larry and I were standing by the door talking and the window just exploded. The brick wasn’t there earlier.”
Sylvester looked at the two of them, and then over at the window. “This is getting deep, man. At least I don’t have to talk to old lady Willow about getting the window fixed.”
Larry gulped. “I hadn’t thought of that. We’re going to have to put something over the window. It’s already getting cold in here.”
“You’re right. Glad you two weren’t hurt,” Sylvester said. “Good luck with the old bag. See you later, man.” And he walked out of the room.”
Larry snorted. “And so much for that.”
Maggie grabbed his arm. “Come on, I’ll get with you to see Mrs. Willow. It’s not going to get any warmer in your flat for the time being.”
§ § §
Automobiles were rare in Cambridge. Few could afford them, and fewer desired to be the kind of target that car ownership encouraged. Larry had planned to make the long walk to South Station in Boston proper when Seb Sylvester offered to drive him.
“No problem, old son,” he explained. “If I don’t drive the beast occasionally, it goes and gets moody on me.”
“Well, I really appreciate it,” Larry said. “It’s cold today.”
“Right. And I have a slow leak in the gas line and I have to get the tank pumped up. I’m down to one-hundred pounds pressure.”
“Why don’t you get it fixed?” Larry asked.
“It’s actually cheaper to pump up the tank when I need to go somewhere. When the pressure gets under a hundred pounds, the leak seems to stop. I can’t really afford the car. It’s just nice to have.”
Larry said nothing further as the elderly vehicle lumbered across the crumbling streets of the city. The car’s structure creaked and rattled as Sylvester maneuvered around the potholes. The mechanicals of the vehicle provided a background cacophony between the whine of the electric drive motor and the pumps and fans of the fuel cell.
“That’s new,” Sylvester commented as they came to a stop along the street. The remains of a building lay in the street and against other buildings.
Larry studied it. “What would you say, that one was about ten stories?”
“About. Guess we won’t be using this street today.” He spun the steering wheel to the right and headed down a side street.
“I’d say that street is down for the duration,” Larry said.
“You are the master of understatement,” Sylvester said. “If enough buildings fall down, the city fathers are going to have to start clearing some of the routes through town.”
“That’ll be interesting,” Larry said. “I read somewhere that it pretty much takes all the money they have to keep the rail lines open into the city.”
“Yeah, but people will do whatever they have to do.”
“I wonder if anyone was living in that building,” Sylvester commented.
“Not anymore.”
“Ever wonder what will happen when all the buildings finally fall down?”
Larry shook his head. “They’ve started clearing some of the more dangerous buildings in Montreal. There is even some new build.”
“There’s no question you Quebecois have your act together,” Sylvester commented. “The people around here are just sitting around waiting for the town to fall down around them.”
“I wouldn’t say that we necessarily have our act together,” Larry said. “It’s more a matter of survival, I think.”
“Apparently the people here don’t want to survive,” Sylvester muttered.
Larry looked over at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever asked, Seb. Where are you from?”
“Urbana,” he replied. “It’s in the Midwest.”
“I know about it. I’m surprised you people have managed to keep a school going out there.”
“The town is no great shakes,” Sylvester said. “But the University keeps the money flowing to the community, to they have worked at keeping it alive.”
“You did your undergrad there?”
“Yeah. I grew up there, so it made sense. My parents let me live at home and fed me. I had to take care of the rest of my expenses, though.”
“I thought your parents lived here.”
“They moved out here when I came here for graduate school. Dad had an idea for a new business and thought it would be an opportunity to get something started without a lot of competition. Since I finished undergrad, they have pretty much cut the apron strings.”
“I guess you’ve done pretty well, then,” Larry said.
Sylvester shrugged. “I get by. And here we are at the station. The magnificent South Station.”
Larry looked out the window at the ancient train station. “I’m surprised it hasn’t fa
llen down.”
“The day is young, my friend.”
“Well, thanks a lot for the ride.” Larry reached over to shake the driver’s hand.
“Hey, I’m glad to, man.” Sylvester looked Larry in the eye. “Too much weird stuff going on, man. I hope you can get in front of it.”
Larry climbed out and pulled his come-along from the back seat, along with the backpack.
“Thanks again,” he said as he shut the car door.
Sylvester tooted the horn once and then eased away from the curb. Larry walked into the station, keeping an eye out for falling masonry. He had heard of people being killed by the odd brick falling from the old buildings. After his recent experiences, he was wary.
“About time you got here.”
He turned to the familiar voice. “What are you doing here, Mags?”
“I couldn’t let you go by yourself,” Maggie said. “Somebody needs to keep an eye out for you.”
“But what about your dissertation?”
“It’ll keep. Besides, does the world really need another climatologist?”
He stared at the skinny redhead. “How can you say that. You’ve been working towards this all your life.”
“Some things are more important, Larry.”
“Now, you’ve got me confused,” he said.
“Friends help friends.”
“And real friends help friends hide the bodies,” he joined in with her on the last part of the old joke they often shared.
“Let’s get our tickets,” she said, nudging him towards the railroad offices.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Larry Berthold stared morosely out his window as the train wound its way slowly across the countryside. He had been driven out of a comfortable life and he the future seemed bleak. He didn’t understand why these things were happening. Maggie sat next to him and was working on her portable computer. They were fortunate to find one of the few seats where the power outlet worked.
She looked up at him. “Are you going to spend the trip staring out the window?”
“There is nothing else to do.”
“You have your computer. You could be working on your research.”
