by Ike Hamill
“Have a seat,” Roland said. “The others will be here soon.”
“Others?” Melanie asked. “I thought it was just us and Merritt.”
“Morris wanted to come too,” Roland said.
David found his way to the old couch. He sat on the end with the most duct tape and craned his neck around to look at the painting hung behind him. It was a deer with an enormous rack of antlers, standing on a rocky ledge. Little trails of mist curled out from the buck’s nostrils.
“My uncle painted that,” Roland said.
“Is that the uncle who used to tell stories?” Melanie asked.
“No,” Roland said. “Another uncle.”
The door opened and Roland’s brother, Merritt, came through. He crossed immediately to the couch.
“David,” he said, leaning over and gripping the boy’s hand. “Ms. Hunter,” he waved to Melanie.
Merritt took one of the rickety wooden chairs across from the couch. Merritt sat on the edge of his chair and leaned forward. “It’s been a long time,” he said.
David nodded.
“We’re waiting for Morris,” Roland said.
“He’s coming?” Merritt asked.
Roland nodded.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Roland asked. “Pop?”
“Yes, please,” David said.
Melanie shook her head. When Roland exited through the small door—presumably to the kitchen—Melanie surveyed the seats again. She settled on the far side of the couch, giving David his own space. Roland returned with three dark brown bottles. He handed one to David and one to Merritt before he took a seat.
“I’m sure he’ll be here any second,” Merritt said.
Melanie watched her son take a sip from the bottle.
“It’s root beer, Mom,” David said.
“I know,” she said.
They heard a low noise, like distant thunder resonate through the trailer’s walls.
“That’s Morris,” Roland said.
“Does he travel by herd?” Melanie asked.
Roland laughed and Merritt replied—“We keep deer out back and they know the smell of his truck. They always stampede to the other side of their paddock when they smell him coming.”
They all waited until eventually the door opened and Morris pushed his way through. He dragged his right foot behind him, gripping the door and the frame to hold himself up. When he pushed the door shut behind himself, he stood straight and walked casually to one of the chairs. His limp disappeared.
“They’re not still watching you,” Roland said.
“They could be, couldn’t they. You don’t know. You didn’t think they were watching the first time.”
Merritt leaned forward to speak low to David and Melanie. “He’s on disability. He’s convinced they’re always trying to catch him without a limp.”
“And the second they do—Bam! You’re in court,” Morris said.
Melanie bit her top lip. She looked off towards the door to the kitchen.
“It’s okay, Ms. Melanie. You can look at my foot. I don’t blame anyone. I came to you, if you remember. No need to feel guilty.”
“I don’t feel guilty,” Melanie said. She looked directly at his foot for exactly two seconds and then she looked away again.
“David,” Roland said, interrupting. “How about you let us all know the point of this palaver.”
David looked down at his own lap, composing his thoughts.
“Do you want to know about your Abenaki roots?” Merritt asked. “You must be curious how it is that we share common blood.”
“No,” David said. “I want to know about blood, but not mine. I want to know about the witch who sheds her skin.”
Merritt knocked over his root beer.
# # # #
“I can’t say her name. She gets excited when people say her name,” David said.
Merritt nodded.
“I believe she lives somewhere near here. I think she witnessed when the crooked monster came through here and you guys killed him.”
“You killed him,” Morris said.
David shook his head. Tears welled up in his eyes as he gathered the courage to continue with his story.
“It’s okay, David. You don’t have to get involved,” Morris said.
“He is involved,” Roland said. “And I think you know that.”
Melanie rolled her eyes.
David continued.
“She’s not from around here. She used to live down south, but she had to keep moving north because people would track her down. They track her for her skin.”
“What do you mean, she? What is it?” Morris asked.
“It used to be a person, but it’s not anymore. The people who chase her think that she’s in league with the Devil and that she owes him blood each night. I don’t think that’s right. I think she needs the blood herself to survive, like a vampire.”
“Crazy,” Melanie whispered.
“Lady, you’ve witnessed crazier,” Roland said.
“Crazier killed my brother and ate my foot,” Morris said.
“Okay, forget I said anything,” Melanie said, raising her hands in the air.
“Do you see her when you’re awake, David?” Roland asked.
David shook his head. “Only when I’m asleep. For a little while she was happy. She had a boyfriend and she visited him once a week. The rest of the time she settled for squirrels and rabbits and whatever else she could find. Then, after we had the fight here, her boyfriend didn’t come back anymore. Was it you?” David asked, pointing towards Merritt.
The man nodded. He dropped his eyes to the dirty area rug. “I let her drink from me for a time. When Morris was in the hospital, I stayed away and that broke the spell. I haven’t let her at me in years.”
David continued, “And she was sad. She might have gone away except she found traces of the monster’s blood in the woods and in your field. That little bit was so powerful that it kept her going for a long time.”
“We should have trapped her when we had the chance,” Roland said to Merritt. “I told you it was a mistake. Last time I listen to you.”
“We each have our weakness,” Merritt said, closing one eye and sighting his brother over the top of his root beer bottle.
“And so what’s the problem?” Morris asked.
“She’s got a new boyfriend. She found a guy and his dog. I think they live near here because I’ve seen him around that rock that you guys call the ‘House Rock.’”
Roland nodded.
“Some of the neighbors walk their dogs back in those woods,” Roland said. “What’s this guy look like?”
“I don’t know,” David said. “I haven’t seen him, I’ve only heard her thinking about him.”
“So you’re connected to her because she drank the monster’s blood,” Roland said. He rubbed his jaw.
“I guess,” said David.
“You said you want to know about her,” Roland said. “It sounds like you already know quite a bit. What do you want to know and why?”
“I want to know where she stays during the day so I can find her and stop her,” David said. “I think she has to be stopped before she kills someone. Actually, I’m not sure that she hasn’t already killed someone. I just don’t know.”
“Merritt, you should tell what you know,” Roland said.
Merritt tipped his bottle of root beer and drank the last. He set the empty on the floor next to him.
“We should go outside,” he said. “I need a smoke.”
The cousins stood.
David stood up as well.
“No thanks, we’ll wait here,” Melanie said. She motioned for David to take his seat. Roland sat back down as Morris and Merritt went outside. “Is this going to take long?” Melanie asked after a few seconds.
“David, do you ever have an idea that something is going to happen just before it happens?”
“No,” David said. He shook his head after he�
�d thought about it more carefully. “No.”
“My uncle—the one who used to tell us stories—he would know sometimes before a storm. He’d know before someone came to visit. He could also tell if someone was pointing a camera at him.”
David sat up a little straighter at Roland’s last statement.
“Can you do that?” Roland asked.
David glanced at his mom and then gave a small nod.
“Oh, please,” she said.
“It’s true,” Roland said. “I’ve seen it. My uncle would always know if there was a hidden camera in a bank, or a convenience store. He’d know if you hid a camera in your purse and walked into the room. When light bounces off of you, you own a part of it. Some people know when their light is being recorded.”
They waited in silence for a few more minutes before Morris and Merritt came back. The cousins took their seats.
“I won’t say her name because you tell me that it gets her excited. I’ll just call her Lady,” Merritt said. “As you guessed, I was her boyfriend for a good while. It started with Katherine, that girl you were trying to bang from that college.”
Roland put up his hand. “She was a friend of mine,” he said.
“Same difference,” Merritt said.
“But start at the beginning,” Roland said. “Start with Gus.”
“Okay, fine,” Merritt said. “We had this uncle named Gus. He was the one who used to tell all the kids stories so they’d be quiet at night. Back then they’d tell you a scary bedtime story so you’d be so frightened you wouldn’t make a sound. We would zip our sleeping bags up over our heads and wouldn’t make a peep until sunrise.”
Morris chuckled.
“Don’t work anymore. You scare a kid like that now and he’ll be bawling for hours,” Merritt said. “Kids are different now, I guess.”
“The witch…” Roland said.
“Yeah, so Gus would tell us stories, but he was also responsible for keeping Lady under control. Whatever he was doing, it worked. He would sometimes give her dog’s blood, and sometimes he would just let her forage for herself. He said that he trained her on his own blood and then tapered it off until she was under control.”
“But why?” David asked.
“Because if she didn’t stay under control, she might start going after other people. The more people-blood she gets, the stronger she gets. Gus kept her at a safe level.”
Roland picked up the story. “Once Gus died and nobody was working with Lady, she stopped coming around. We didn’t know for sure, but we thought that she might be getting ready for something bigger, so I talked to my friend Katherine. She was working with some ghost hunter.”
“Dr. Mike,” David said.
“Yup, that’s the guy,” Roland said.
“The guy I was tracking with?” Morris asked.
“Yup,” Roland said.
“We figured that if Mike and them could get her close enough, we could catch her or do something. But then she bit me.”
Melanie wrinkled her nose and dug in her purse.
“She bit me and I started thinking maybe I could be the new Shaman,” Merritt said. “When she bites, you start to think that maybe anything is possible if you just try. I thought I could master her in the same way my uncle did. He had a lot of power, and I thought maybe some of that power came from Lady.”
Merritt pulled a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and made a quick count.
“I was wrong,” Merritt said. “I couldn’t control shit. I was just food for Lady. She got stronger and I got nothing but a weak pulse.”
“I told him to quit,” Roland said.
“Yeah, but telling ain’t knowing,” Merritt said. “It took Morris’s foot to get me to stop. You learn a lot when she’s feeding on you, but you forget most of it right away. What you said about her sounds right. She’s from down south—maybe gulf coast area. She can take off her skin and move around nearly invisible if she wants. She doesn’t like to leave her skin behind though. Her skin is valuable and if someone gets it, they’re likely to try to hunt her down to get more. She has to have blood every night, but she doesn’t need that much to survive. I don’t know what she does with it.”
“Drinks it?” David asked.
“Yeah, I s’pose.”
“Tell me more about the skin,” Morris said. “Why’s it so valuable?”
“People try to use it to conjure,” David said. “They use it in magic spells and stuff.”
“And how were you thinking to trap Lady?” Morris asked.
Roland and Merritt looked at each other.
Roland spoke. “We didn’t have a precise plan.”
“Tell the truth—we weren’t sure it was a real thing before we saw it,” Merritt said.
“Not for sure, anyway,” Roland said.
“The woods out back here aren’t that big,” Morris said. “We could probably track her down if we really tried. Davey?”
“David,” the boy corrected.
“David, how often are you in touch with Lady? Do you see her every night?” Morris asked.
“I don’t think so. I don’t always remember my dreams though. I think I’d remember a dream about her though. They’re scary.”
“Just give a guess—how often are we going to get information about her?” Morris asked.
“Maybe every other day. Maybe every three days,” David said.
“Wait a second,” Melanie said. She grabbed her bag and began to push herself out of the couch. The duct tape holding the cushion together stuck to her back and she tugged to free her blouse. “Just so we’re clear, David’s role in this little drama is done. I agreed to bring him down to talk to you, but just once. He’s not going to be involved in any more of this crazy talk about vampires and ladies and woods.”
“He’s involved already, Ms. Hunter,” Morris said. “He’s connected. He’s connected to us and he’s connected to this witch in the woods. You can’t change that, you can only do what’s right.”
“And what’s right is to keep David safe. Years ago, there was a monster chasing my son. We had to run and then we had to fight and I thank you for your help in both. But this is different. He may have some strange dreams, but these woods are miles and miles away from where we live. There’s no threat to David unless we’re down here getting involved. I can’t let David get dragged into this. If you choose to do something about it that’s fine. I won’t argue it. But we’re done,” Melanie said. With that, she stood and motioned to David.
“Mom, they’ll need to know what I see,” David said.
“No.”
“I can just talk to them on the phone. I don’t have to come down here.”
“No, I said. We’re going.” Melanie took a step and leaned down to grab David’s arm.
“You’re being unreasonable,” David said.
“I’m being a mother.”
She grabbed his elbow and David pulled his arm away. He walked around the back of the chairs and left through the front door. Morris patted his back as he walked past the man.
Before she left, Melanie turned to the cousins. “You understand. Thank you for your time.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Don
DON SETTLED INTO AN easy rhythm of killing time. He cut his hair short and took his shower at night, to avoid the morning collisions in the bathroom. He set his alarm for an hour before they left, so he could take Barney for a walk. The dog was getting stronger. His hind legs looked more stable as he walked, and he didn’t seem to have as much trouble getting up from the floor.
At first, Wes insisted that Barney should stay outside during the day, but Don put his foot down. They compromised on Don driving home at lunch to take Barney out. The office was only fifteen minutes from the house, so Don could make the whole trip in less than an hour if he drove.
The office work was easy and boring. Don took big sketches from one of the designers and worked to fill in all the details on the computer. His job consisted m
ostly of measurement and simple math. When Don finished his part, he sent his files down to the artists who would apply all the proper colors and textures to Don’s wireframes. Occasionally they would bring something back, telling Don that he’d failed to constrain some lines, but mostly Don worked without much interaction with the people around him. In fact, if Don wasn’t there working for such a low wage, Wes would have sent the files overseas to be processed overnight.
Don placed his final lines and began rechecking his work. He found that if he spun the wireframe slowly on his computer screen and focused on the center of the screen, he could spot unconnected lines. This computer model looked like a bulkhead, like you’d see going into the cellar of an old house. Don suspected that it was more like a subterranean loading dock, but he hadn’t asked. He zoomed out and rotated the wireframe. He found a loose corner and zoomed in to fix the lines.
When he looked up from his monitor, he saw Brenda standing at his desk. She worked in the accounting department. Don removed his earbuds and gave her a quick half-smile.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hi.”
“There was a problem with your direct deposit. Can you swing by later and verify your account details?”
“Okay,” Don said. “Or I’m fine with a check. I’m only here for the summer.”
“We only do direct deposit,” she said with a shrug.
“Okay,” he said. When she didn’t move he said, “I’ll come by later.”
People who had cubicles could turn away from their door as a type of dismissal. Don worked in the middle of a room at an unanchored desk with a few other temporary workers. He could turn his eyes away from a visitor and look at his monitor, but it didn’t serve to communicate that he considered the conversation over. He didn’t want to be rude.
“Do you live with your parents?” Brenda asked. She was about Don’s age, but she seemed like she must be older. She had a real job and was done with her school career. She was attractive enough, Don supposed. Despite her real job and degree, she still had a lot of soft edges, like life hadn’t bothered to knock away the signs of youth yet. She wore her hair to her neck in a style that framed her face. She looked like she was hiding underneath that hair.
