by Tobias Wade
“Be nice,” Becky said, “Weird or not, we need to start getting to know the neighbors.”
I nodded in agreement as I stretched and walked to the door.
Jack stood on the porch holding a paper bag. “What’s your game, Jim?” He tilted the bag and smiled. Inside was a six-pack of Coors, a fifth of Maker’s and a pack of cigars in cellophane. “Cubans. Best there is.”
I waved him over to our patio table and went to find something we could use as an ashtray. He unpacked the bag and brought out two new decks of cards. “Your call, my friend.”
“Well, it’s been a while so let’s go for an old-fashioned game of five-card draw.”
“Sounds good to me.”
He shuffled a deck and set it before me to cut. “Jokers wild. I like a little extra chance, don’t you?”
I cracked the top on one of the beers and nodded. I enjoyed wild cards too. He dealt the first hand and I won with two pairs. He won the next with three-of-a-kind. Back and forth, up and down. He told me stories of the people in the area. Who got along with whom and more importantly, who didn’t get along. He shared his opinion on local politics—“Ain’t none of em ever gonna do nothin’ worth a damn. Ain’t worth the time it takes to get my ass out of bed.” And the weather, “Only goldarned place it’ll be colder’na witch’s tit one day and hotter than the Devil’s sack the next, but I can’t leave.”
The stories he told were interesting and the way he told them was warm and engaging. At some point we forgot to play cards and just traded stories and laughs. Becky came outside and joined us for couple drinks. He paid her several compliments that bordered on the flirtatious and made her blush. “One hell of a family you got here, Jim. Play you for them!”
I laughed, “You’re on!”
Becky giggled as the cards were dealt and the bets and draws went back and forth and Jack won the hand. “Welp, honey, I guess go pack up, Mr. Jack won you fair and square.”
“You wish!” she said playfully, “We just got the house the way I want it and you’re sending me away? No way, Jose!”
Jack laughed, “Well it would be nice to have a pretty lady like you to keep me company and maybe pour me a glass of sweet tea from time to time, but not iffin’ it’s gonna make you sad. I suppose you can stay here if you want.”
“I’m such a lucky girl!” she remarked before going back inside.
It wasn’t long before Jack said he needed to get moving on and he’d see us next week. And shortly after, he was up and gone. Becky and I cleaned up and talked about how much fun we’d just had. I honestly could not wait until the next weekend to play cards with Jack again.
A couple of nights later, Miss Lucie appeared in a dream. I was standing in the clearing, near the trail through the woods. The white house was on fire and smoke was pouring out windows and doors. Horses were screaming in their corral and through the flames I could see figures moving inside the house. Were people trapped in there? I stepped cautiously toward the house when Miss Lucie came out the front door and walked up the trail toward me. She was not naked this time, but her outfit left little to the imagination as she sauntered toward me. “Bonjour,” she said.
I didn’t know what to think. She was moving slowly, swaying, showing me all that could be mine if I but wished it but despite a sudden, uncontrollable ache in my crotch, the feeling I had was almost paralyzing fear. I took a step back. She laughed.
“Come now, Monsieur, you gotta let Miss Lucie in sooner or later. You’ll go mad if you do not.”
“What do you want from me?” I said as I started to tremble.
She paused and considered, “Oh, Monsieur, I don’t want nothin’. I ain’t nothin’ but a dream in that pretty little head of yours. You want me. You want this. You jus’ dreamin anyhow. You oughtta let me work my magic for you.”
I took another step backward when something muscled and hairy brushed by me. It was the snaggletoothed hog, blocking my exit as it had before. I tried to step around it when it whipped its head around and knocked my legs out from under me. Almost as soon as I hit the ground, Lucie was upon me, tearing at my clothes and kissing and caressing me. For my part, I still felt drugged and slow, as you do in dreams, but somehow even deeper. I began thinking, moving, trying to wake myself up but it wasn’t working. I turned my head and saw that there were, in fact, people inside the burning house. Someone broke a window from the inside and was trying to climb out when her head exploded, splashing red across the white washed timbers. The rifle report echoed through the field. I didn’t know what I was seeing, what was real, what was not. I could not be sure, but the face of the woman who had just been shot looked like Becky’s. Nobody else tried to escape the burning house. They simply screamed as the fire consumed them. I watched it as Lucie kissed and groped, and finally climbed off of me.
Had there been sex? I didn’t think so but I could not be sure. Time and events move differently in dreams and I had been so focused on the house and the fire, I had totally ignored the witch woman who was trying to rape me. I remembered how angry she had seemed when Becky had pulled me out of the last nightmare. I looked around and Miss Lucie was gone. The house and the hog were gone too and instead of clear blue sky, it was dark. I was sitting on the ground near the trail and after a few minutes of very intense disorientation, I realized that I was awake. I was awake and sitting in the woods in the middle of the night. I got up, feeling rather sick, and walked back to the house in my bare feet and shorts. When I got back to my bedroom, Becky snored softly, and I climbed into bed next to her. I lay awake until dawn wondering what the hell had just happened. I was now sleepwalking into the woods at night.
This was not good.
For the first time since we’d lived there, we had a hard rain and the roof did not leak at all. It seemed as if I had fixed at least that while I felt my sanity slipping further and further away. How else could I explain giant dream hogs that refused to be shot? Or a spectral house that got clearer and more horrifying every time it appeared? Sexually ravenous dream seduction by my new neighbor’s daughter; who, by the way, managed to tame a dozen feral creatures with a bag of feed and a song? My strange new neighbor himself whose last name I didn’t even know but who would just appear on our doorstep when he wanted to play a game. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know anything anymore. The season moved in a series of good days, days when I was a stable, loving husband and father to my wife and son; and bad days, days when I was tormented by beasts and dreams and blasphemous seduction.
Jack arrived at five o’ clock on Sunday each week. And while I had a lot of fun when he was here, more and more often, that little rapping knock sent shivers down my spine. Becky had started getting annoyed with the bizarrely strict schedule and with the fact that I spent every Sunday drinking and smoking cigars while she got left alone to deal with Jason’s bath and bed time by herself. I mentioned this to Jack, suggesting we take a week or two off or whatever, but every time I did, he’d make a bet on it that I’d lose, and he’d leave that evening saying, “See you next week.”
And those fucking hogs.
Every time I’d have a dream, of any kind, Snaggletooth and his buddy would show up somewhere. They were always snorting and squealing and either standing there staring at me or shoving me around. I’d come to see Snaggletooth as Lucie’s pet, as she was never without him.
I continued to sleepwalk. I found myself in the clearing night after night, barefoot and confused. Becky was no longer sleeping when I’d come in after a weird walk. She was worried and upset and started to suggest I see a doctor if these fugues didn’t stop. It came to a head one night when, in the dream, Lucie and Snaggletooth were coming after me. I pulled my pistol and shot at the mad hog. The pistol, of course, was the cap gun I got for my fifth birthday. I aimed and shot and came awake immediately in the woods holding my very real smoking gun in the middle of the night. Horrified, I ran back to the house to Becky who sat at the kitchen table, her counten
ance a mixture of fear and worry.
“I don’t know what’s happening,” I said, “Something’s not right. I’m sleepwalking; having strange dreams. Something’s very wrong.” I handed her the pistol, “I can’t be trusted with this. I was asleep just now. I need you to take this and go, right now, and change the combination on the safe. Don’t let me know what it is. Just… Don’t.”
She did as she was asked and then came back to me. “I want you to see a doctor, Jim. Maybe it’s stress over the life changes? I don’t know but what if it’s something worse? I want you to get checked out.”
I could say nothing. I agreed with her. I shuddered. All this time, I thought the experiences were external. What if, instead, there was something in my head that was causing the dreams, the breaks from reality? What if I wasn’t haunted? What if I was sick? Jason woke up crying and Becky went to check on him. I sat at the kitchen table trying to make sense of what was happening to me, but sense could not be found. The next day was Sunday. I’d scheduled a Tuesday morning appointment with a doctor in Austin to get checked out. All I needed was to make it through the next two days and everything would be fine.
Jack arrived at five to play cards. Becky rolled her eyes and said, “Really?”
I got up to answer the door and tell Jack I wasn’t well and we’d have to skip a week. When I opened the door, however, Lucie stood there instead. My heart leapt into my chest. Was this a dream? What was going on? Feelings of guilt and fear struck me and I stumbled backwards as the girl in front of me cocked her head and gave me a curious look.
“Are you okay, sir?”
“I, uh, I’m fine. I just, uh. I was expecting someone else.”
“I know. My dad sent me up here to tell you he can’t make it tonight. He’s a bit under the weather.”
“Who is it?” asked Becky.
“Uh, it’s Jack’s daughter. Uh, Lucie, right?”
She eyed me curiously. “Um, no, I’m Kara.” She reached out a hand to shake. I hesitated and she narrowed her eyes, genuinely confused. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look a little pale.”
This was terribly wrong. This was Miss Lucie, the demon girl who had been terrorizing me since we’d moved in. I knew her too well. She could call herself what she liked but I wasn’t fooled. Becky came to the door and took the offered hand. “Becky Campbell, nice to meet you Kara.”
“Thanks. Anyway, Dad wanted me to let you know. He really has a great time playing with you. He hasn’t had a friend to play with since Old Mr. Johnson died. And I was barely five then, so it’s been a long time. I appreciate your kindness.”
“Well, we like him too,” said Becky, “Tell him we hope he’s better by next week.”
She thanked us again and turned to walk home. “Nice seeing you again,” I said, waving.
She stopped and turned, “Excuse me?”
“Um, it’s nice to see you again. It’s been a few months.”
“I’m sorry, but you must have me confused with someone else. I just got in last night.”
I thought of the girl who had saved me from the hogs that morning. If this wasn’t her, then this was her twin. “Maybe it was your sister, then.”
“Uh, nope. There’s just me and dad,” she said, obviously uncomfortable, “Don’t know who you saw but it wasn’t me.”
“My mistake, I’m sorry.”
She gave us both a quizzical look as she wandered down the driveway to the road to Jack’s place.
“Well, that wasn’t weird or anything,” Becky said, closing the door.
“I’ve met her before,” I said.
“Well, she’s never met you. You should go lay down, Jim. You’re starting to worry me.”
I couldn’t argue. I was suddenly very tired and could think of nothing that would please me more than a good, long nap.
I came awake to a crash and a scream. I sat up in bed and listened as things slammed and glass broke outside my bedroom. I leapt to my feet and ran out into the living room. To my horror, Snaggletooth and the small hog were in the house! I stared at the two of them before the little one came at me and I kicked at him as hard as I could, my bare foot connecting with the side of his head. He squealed and shied away but his distress enraged Snaggletooth, who foamed at the mouth as he ran at me.
I spun on my heels and ran to the closet that held the gun safe. Of course, it was locked, and I did not know the new combination. I slammed the door in his face and held it shut as he slammed against it again and again. The wooden door began to splinter, and I looked for anything I could use against him when he came through. My hunting bag was on a top shelf and I reached for it, retrieving my knife. Seconds later, Snaggletooth’s head poked through and I stabbed him in the snout. His flesh yielded and he let out a scream that sounded almost human. His head drew out of the hole in the door and the large animal went back to join the little one. Had I really hurt them? I had sent countless bullets at these beasts over the past several weeks and never so much as scratched one. Now Snaggletooth stood huffing and rubbing his bleeding snout on his leg. Where were Becky and Jason? Hopefully they got out or were locked in a bedroom away from the carnage.
I stood with knife in hand. Snaggletooth stood eyeing me madly. Each breath he took was a promise that as soon as he could, he would tear my guts out. He shook his tusks in warning as the little hog continued to squeal fearfully. Without taking my eyes off the animals in my living room, I took a step toward them. Each time, their squeals got louder and more nervous, but they did not attack. Another step. More grunts and squeals. The anxious hogs trembled as they backed themselves into the corner. Emboldened, I crossed the threshold toward them. Snaggletooth screeched and swung his tusks at me as he cowered. I was careful in my approach, keeping my eyes on the injured beast. Although it would be a terrible mess, I realized I was going to have to kill these animals in my living room. I took another step toward them, they moved away.
Suddenly, the small hog squealed and ran toward me, breaking to the side to get by me. I swung out with the knife and buried it an inch or so into the flesh behind his head. He screamed in pain and fury and ran into the wall, dragging a bloody stain down the newly painted surface. Then Snaggletooth came at me. He grunted and screeched as he charged, turning his head and tusking my hand, ripping it open from the base of my ring finger to my wrist. At the same instant I brought the knife across, burying it deep in his neck. The animal screamed again as blood poured from its neck and mouth. He then slowed down, his breathing heavy. He crossed into the kitchen and collapsed onto the linoleum floor. I walked over to him and drew my knife across his throat before turning my attention back to the small one. He was not as badly injured as his pal but was still squealing in panic. I quickly cornered him and brought the knife down again and again, finally ending the terror of the hogs, these unlikely beasts that had been haunting my dreams for months.
Dreams. I looked at my hand and realized that although it was torn open and I could see the ligaments exposed, it didn’t hurt and it wasn’t bleeding. The hogs still lay across the floor, bodies giving little spasms as they died. Blood was everywhere and the knife in my hand felt as real as anything I’d ever held. But why was I alone? Where were Becky and Jason? I checked the other rooms of the house but there was no sign of them. It was strangely quiet and I kept expecting to wake up any second. I then had an idea. If this really is a dream and I’d just faced down and destroyed my fears, maybe I could go outside and Miss Lucie would show up. Then I could put an end to that nightmare as well.
I walked outside barefoot and went straight to the clearing, knife in hand. As I stepped off the trail, the night turned to day and the house sat in the field. The horses trotted around merrily. There was a shot, followed by a scream and another shot. Moments later, smoke began to rise from the house. A window broke and a woman began to climb out, but someone shot her in the head and she fell across the window sill. I looked up to see a man on a horse holding a rifle to his
shoulder. Another window broke and another shot rang out as the mounted rider shot at anyone who tried to escape the blaze. The rider turned and nodded down at me and I recognized Jack.
“Hell of a day, ain’t it Jim?”
I tightened my grip on the knife as Miss Lucie appeared on a horse next to her father.
“My name is Kara!” She laughed. Jack laughed with her, both amused at something I didn’t understand. I still don’t.
“Thanks for playin’ Jim, my boy, you’ve been a real sport,” Jack said.
“I had a good time too, Monsieur. ‘Hard to get’ is my favorite pantomime,” said Lucie.
Jack took aim and fired at another poor soul trying to escape the fire.
“Go on back home and get some sleep. Lucie and myself will leave you alone now. I’ll even let you keep part of my winnin’s, cause we’re such good friends.”
Lucie blew me a kiss, and then faded away. When I turned back to Jack, he too was gone. The house continued to burn out of control for a moment, then it too faded and the day turned into night. I began to start for home, then I heard the rumble of thunder from an early morning storm and I woke up in my bed.
I lay there for a moment, listening for any sign of Jason, who nearly always woke up and cried during thunderstorms. I opened my eyes and looked around. Whatever time it was, it was still dark outside. I remained still so as to not disturb Becky and listened to the rain. I dozed.
I woke up to a sound with which I had become angrily familiar. The sound of water dripping through a leak in the roof to splatter on the ground. It was light outside this time and I sat up, ready to discover the source of the drip. But the source of the drip was something else entirely. I have no words. I can barely think of it now. I still don’t believe it.
