One Big Bat

by Risner, Fay

  The dog ran to the middle of the park and stopped behind a chestnut tree. He didn't pause long to rest this time. A rabbit skittered from behind a park bench, bringing back old and exciting memories to the greyhound. He took off after that rabbit like he was an entry in a race.

  The only thing that saved the rabbit was the dog looked back to see how close we were to him. He lost track of the rabbit and decided to stop behind a oak tree this time to rest.

  I put my hand out and stopped Briceson before the dog became skittish again. “We got to catch our breath before race three begins,” I puffed.

  “Good idea,” Briceson said, sucking air in and out. He studied the dog. “What do you think we ought to do?”

  I gave Briceson my best serious look. “If you really want to catch that dog, try ignoring him. Get down on your knees and act like you've found the most delicious pile of dog kibbles.”

  Briceson arched his eyebrows at me. “You are kidding me. Right?”

  “No, I'm dead serious,” I said. Well almost.

  “How are we going to explain this if someone sees me acting that way? You know how people in this town talk,” Briceson complained.

  “Hey, I'm just saying it should work. That dog is hungry, and any dog worth his salt is not going to let another dog eat up all the good food,” I said.

  “There are flaws in your theory. First, I am not a dog. If that dog is as smart as you think he is, he can tell the difference between a human and a dog. Second, there isn't anything on the ground for a dog to eat,” Briceson scoffed softy, afraid the dog would hear us plotting against him I guess.

  “Well, I was saving this for lunch, but I guess you might as well have it if this keeps Mrs. Pestkey happy and us from having to run for the rest of the day. Right now I'm pooped.” I reached in my jacket pocket and pulled out a small bag of potato chips.

  Briceson held the bag up, looking stumped. “What am I suppose to do with this?”

  “Drop to your knees and crinkle the bag real loud so you've broken the chips into pieces. That noise will get the dog's attention. Then open the bag and empty it so the dog can see. Get your nose near the pile of chips and say yum, yum like you're eating the chips.”

  “I don't want to do this,” Briceson whined.

  “Hey, don't tell me. You go back and tell that to Mrs. Pestkey, and you better know I'm not going with you,” I ordered.

  “No, that wouldn't be wise.” Briceson dropped to his knees and roughed up the bag. He opened it and poured out the broken chips.

  “Keep it up,” I whispered. “He's interested enough that he came out from behind the tree. He's staring at you.”

  “Yum, yum, yum, this is good dog food,” Briceson improvised.

  “He stopped. Not so much talking. He's not sure he wants to carry a conversation with you,” I whispered.

  “Yum, yum.” Briceson whispered out of the side of his mouth, “What's he doing now?”

  “He's coming very slowly toward you,” I said, backing up so the dog wouldn't worry about me. “He's hungry. I can tell. Listen, you keep an eye on him until he tries to steal a mouth full of chips and grab his collar.”

  “Sounds easier said than done,” Briceson hissed. “Is there anyone in the park to see me acting weird?”

  “Nah,” I lied. “Too early in the day.” I wasn't about to tell him about the group of park lovers behind us that had gathered to watch the show. “Now ease up to give the dog room. He just might grab your nose instead of the chips.”

  Briceson straightened up and sat very still.

  “Look down. He has to think he's sneaking up on you so don't make eye contact with him,” I hissed.

  Sure enough the dog one step at a time stalked the chip pile. He was too hungry to worry much about Briceson at the moment. The dog sniffed the chips to make sure this was food. He scarfed a mouth full.

  Briceson grabbed his collar. “I got him. Oof!”

  He just thought he did. The dog leaped and lurched, trying to get away. Briceson fell flat on his face.

  Good thing Briceson had a good grip on the collar. He held on until I got there to help him. With both of us holding on, it gave Briceson time to get to his feet.

  The crowd applauded.

  That's when he spotted he had an audience and went all red faced. “No one around to watch you said.”

  “They just showed up. I couldn't very well tell them to disperse. I'd have scared the dog off, and you were doing such a good job,” I complimented.

  “How did you know that would work?”

  “I didn't for sure,” I admitted.

  “If I wasn't here would you have got down on your knees and yelled yum yum over that pile of chips,” Briceson asked dragging the dog with us.

  “You kidding? No way,” I snorted.

  Briceson stopped and gave me a disgusted glare.

  “Keep going. We got to get this dog over to Mrs. Pestkey's house and get him in the car. We'll take him to the vet to board for the owner,” I said.

  Getting that dog to load into the back of the squad car was a whole other story, but I won't bore you with it. Except to say the dog decided not to be so stubborn about hopping in the minute he heard Mrs. Pestkey's raised voice and her cane clunking on the sidewalk as she came toward him.

  Chapter 5

  Thursday morning when I finished jogging I came home to find Diane organizing their monthly bills. She had the statements spread out on the kitchen table so she could write a check for each and stuff envelopes.

  I brewed me a cup of coffee and another one which I took over to the table to warm up the little dab of coffee my sister had left in her cup.

  “Thanks. I wonder what the heck this is all about?” She puzzled, reading through the telephone statement.

  “What's wrong?” I asked.

  “Two calls were made from our phone in the last couple of days to Waco, Texas,” Diane said.

  “You didn't make the calls I take it?” I asked.

  “No, I don't know anyone in Waco. Oh well, wrong numbers might happen to anyone once in a while,” Diane decided as she picked up the phone on the kitchen bar. She called the telephone company to complain. The secretary said she'd look into it and get back to Diane. She hung up and concentrated on the rest of the bills.

  When I came home from work, Diane was frowning as she dusted the coffee table.

  I asked her if anything was wrong.

  She said, “I heard back from the telephone company. The secretary didn't think the two calls were wrong numbers or a mis-charge. The calls had been made from this house, and she said we're stuck with the bill. Guess I'm going to have to pay for those two costly long distance calls.”

  “Paul didn't make the calls?”

  Diane's forehead wrinkled up as she thought back to the middle of the last month. “I don't think so, but I'll ask him. He would have been at work all day. I'd have been with him in the evening, and he hasn't used the telephone as far as I recall for a while at night.”

  “The dates and times should be on the statement. Why don't you look? Try to match the days with when you have been away from the house.”

  “Good idea.” Diane took her appointment book schedule from the kitchen bar by the phone and laid it on the table. “Actually, both calls were made near the end of the month during the day. The twenty-fifth I was gone most of the day on a trip with the church women to the Minneapolis Institute of Art. The other call was the twenty- ninth at two in the afternoon.” Diane referred to her schedule book. “That was the afternoon the church ladies entertained at the nursing home. I played the piano, and the others sang. So see I couldn't have made the calls.”

  “Give me the phone number. I'll track down who it belongs to when I get to work tomorrow. We'll find out if the name sounds familiar to you,” I offered.

  After Diane wrote the phone number on a piece of paper and handed it to me, I worried that Paul might have slipped home while Diane was out of the house to make those calls. Suppos
e he had a girlfriend on the side. What was I going to tell Diane then?

  Well, my mother had a saying for that. I shouldn't trouble trouble until trouble troubles me or in this case troubles Diane. I finished my coffee and got ready for work. Diane had to hustle too since she was going to help with Ada Gray's funeral luncheon at church.

  That morning, I rode on patrol with Officer Jeff Briceson for a while to look like I was working. Briceson did want to go to Ada Gray's funeral so we both took off mid morning for that and to get in on the free lunch afterwards. We passed by Diane cutting and serving pies and cake. Officer Briceson and I spoke to her.

  Our community involvement always won brownie points with the chief. He usually had feed back about how well the citizens like that sort of interest.

  That afternoon, I worked as desk clerk. I use the time to fill out paperwork for the patrolmen's traffic stops. After I finished the paper work, I used the computer to track the Waco, Texas phone number. I figured I shouldn't do that until after my other work was done since I couldn't call this a crime investigation yet.

  When I finally found the person's listing, I was glad the name was Henry Lance Longfellow for Paul's sake instead of Henrietta Longfellow. I put the man's name in the data base. He didn't have any priors.

  Diane talked about Ada Gray's funeral and her family during supper. She said the family was appreciative that we attended. Ada had spoke of the two nice police officers to them.

  After supper, Diane asked Paul if he knew a Henry Longfellow from Waco, Texas. He said he'd never heard of the man. Diane explained about the phone charges on their telephone bill.

  I thought about the mysterious form that I thought passed my room. It occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, if Paul and Diane didn't make the call someone else had been in the house and used their phone.

  “Diane, I saw you use the phone in the kitchen this morning. Has either one of you used the phone in here lately?” I pointed to the telephone on Paul's desk.

  They both shook their heads no.

  “Just out of caution, I'd like to take your phones to the lab tomorrow and get them fingerprinted if you don't mind?”

  Paul grinned, “I don't mind, but why?”

  “It just seems strange to me that you were both out of the house when the calls were made to this Longfellow guy,” I said. “I just want to be cautious.”

  “I think this is just the cop coming out in you, but it's okay with me. Can you get along without your phones for a day, Diane?” Paul asked, grinning.

  “Ha! Ha! Very funny. Yes, I can.” She turned to me. “I think Paul's right. You're going to a lot of trouble for nothing. How long will you have to keep the phones?”

  “Just for tomorrow. It won't take Officer Briceson long to check for prints. I'll bring them back with me tomorrow night. If I find nothing, I'll feel better knowing that, and you should, too,” I said. “Have you got a grocery sack or laundry bag? I need some kind of sack to carry the phones.”

  “Sure,” Diane said. She came back with a clean bag she meant to use to put clothes in to take to the cleaners.

  Paul stood up. “I believe I'll have a beer. Can I get you girls anything?”

  “I'd take a mountain dew,” Diane said. “How about you, Renee?”

  “Any of that good iced tea left?”

  “Sure and I can always make more,” Diane said.

  I went to the bathroom to get a clean towel off the stack and used it to pick up both phones to put them in the bag. When I went to the bedroom to place the bag by my purse, I heard Diane say, “Change your mind and took pop instead, huh?”

  “Didn't have a choice. We're out of beer,” Paul grumped.

  “I just bought a twelve pack and put it in the refrigerator. How could we be out?”

  “I wondered that myself then I got to thinking about what a good time you two have been having lately,” Paul said rather accusingly.

  “Paul, we didn't drink your beer,” Diane hissed. “You probably forgot to tell me when you drank the last one so I could put beer on the grocery list just like the orange juice.”

  “I didn't drink all of that orange juice,” Paul insisted.

  “Well, so there! We're even. Renee and I didn't drink your beer either,” Diane retorted.

  The subject was dropped abruptly when I came back to the living room, and I wasn't about to act like I heard anything.

  I tell you I was ready to go to bed by ten anyway. I could tell I'd missed sleep the last few nights. The ten o'clock news and weather didn't even interest me. I excused myself and left Paul and Diane watching television or to finish their argument in private.

  It must have been the middle of the night when I woke up. At first, I didn't know why I was wide awake except that waking in the night had become a habit in this house.

  That excuse worked until I heard whispering skitters. The noises seemed to move along the rafters in the attic above my bed. At first, I thought maybe I'd just gone to sleep. It might be Paul and Diane getting ready for bed.

  I laid as still as I could and listened. Creak -- quiet – creak – quiet -- creak didn’t sound like bats to me. I covered my head up and tightly closed my eyes. I wanted to go back to sleep in the worst way, but I didn't have any way to shut my hearing off.

  The soft whir of a far away motor began to purr. That had to be easy to explain. It must be the refrigerator motor just kicked in. Except the whir sounded as if it was above me instead of in the kitchen. I worried that maybe my hearing was going whacky.

  I knew I had to go to sleep and quit hearing noises, or I'd be worthless tomorrow at work. I couldn't help it that I was about ready to freak out. I calmed myself down with the fact that there was a ceiling between me and the Logans's wildlife. None of the bats had escaped yet to terrorize me I consoled myself. Not yet anyway, said the troublesome voice in my head.

  I fell back into a fitful sleep. Suddenly, I was awake again and realized the time had to be in the wee hours just before dawn. I stared at the ceiling, wishing sleep to come but feeling too tense to doze off.

  In the living room, the grandfather clock blared out two strikes. I hated that I was right about the time. Inwardly, I groaned. The night was almost gone. Did the noises in this house ever give sleeping humans a break?

  Just as dawn was breaking, I woke up to banging noises. Before I was really alert, I thought I was home, and someone was knocking on my front door. I rubbed my eyes, thinking I should yell who is it.

  Instead, I opened my eyes and looked around. I remembered then that I was sleeping in Diane's guest bedroom. The banging came from the attic. That must be one big bat bouncing off the walls. The noise reminded me of a softball bouncing off a wooden fence. Tossed back again and again by a kid.

  I could hear Paul snoring down the hall. Then Diane's quiet voice waking him. I thought it might be she was tired of listening to the snorts coming from her husband. That wasn't it. I heard her clearly say, “I'm having trouble sleeping. There's been an awful lot of noise in the attic most of the night.”

  Paul mumbled, “It’s just bats. Be patient for nine more days. I'll get rid of the bats.”

  After Paul and Diane talked, the attic noises stopped. Although Paul's snores were loud enough to drowned out the banging noises if there had been anymore. When I was trying to go back to sleep, I didn't know which was worse the bats bouncing around or Paul's loud piggy snorts.

  I rolled onto my side, facing the bedroom door and tried to get comfortable. A large, dark shadow glided by the door. I blinked. What the heck? Not again. Was that Paul sleepwalking in the hall for real this time?

  Snores rumbled down the hall to answer my question. No, that couldn't have been Paul. He's still in bed.

  I was mighty curious about what was happening at the end of the hall. For sure, I wasn't going back to sleep right away anyway. I might as well take a look. I slipped out of bed and brought my pistol out of my bag before I eased to the door.

  I peeked out. The hallway wa
s darker than dark. I might should suggest to Diane that she buy a night light and plug it in so the hall was well lit. Maybe then I'd stop seeing things that surely weren't there. I turned my ear toward the hall. No sounds at all now, and Paul was quiet. I must be going crazy to have such hallucinations.

  Just to be on the safe side, I decided to investigate. What was the worse that could happen? I might run into Paul coming out of the guest room and really give Diane cause to be suspicious of us again.

  I tiptoed down the hall to the end and peered in the smaller bedroom doorway. I didn't see anyone. I pushed the door back enough that if someone was behind it I'd know when the door stopped short of the wall. The door bumped the wall. No one could be behind the door.

  Was I going crazy, sleeping in this strange house? Was it just my imagination that had me seeing things? If I wasn't dreaming, someone went by my door two different nights now. Where did he end up?

  When I took a deep breath, I noticed a peculiar and yet familiar scent in the hall. I sniffed again. Where had I smelled that unpleasant odor before? It went along with something I had a bad feeling about, but what was it?

  Might as well go back to bed. I'd just put my gun away and laid down when a loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass in the other bedroom made me sit straight up in bed. What was that?

  Maybe a burglar had broken a window to get in or out. I rummaged in the side pocket of my bag where I kept my gun stashed. Once I had the pistol in my hand again, I headed for the hall and converged with Diane and Paul at the door.

  “Was that noise in your room?” Paul asked.

  “No, it was next door. You best let me go first, Paul. I've got my gun,” I whispered.

  Diane and Paul lined up behind me and followed. I stuck my hand in and flipped the room light on. Taking the policeman two hands on the gun stance, I stepped in. No one was in the room, and the window hadn't been disturbed.