Tinker, however, remained awake, like he understood his duty to watch over me. His purrs had been reduced to low grumbles as my petting grew less and less. Right before I crossed the line over into sleep, I felt him poke his head out from under the comforter. He was on top of my chest, his body rigid and his claws digging into my skin. His blocky head stared at my door. Panic jolted me awake when I took in the first breath of the freezing cold air.
Tinker laid his ears back and bared his teeth for the second time that evening. An ominous growl rumbled in his chest with enough force to make my body shake. His brilliant green eyes narrowed into miniscule slits as his gaze moved to my right, away from the door. I knew, without looking, what stood beside my bed. Frozen in fear, I couldn’t even whimper. Hot tears cascaded down my cheeks as I sensed the entity beside me. Though petrified, I couldn’t stop my eyes from following Tinker’s. I didn’t need to hold my breath because my chest was unable to move to give me air.
Before I grasped the horror that the Shadow-Man stood next to me, I realized why I couldn’t breathe.
The four-pound little stray was gone. From my toes to my neck, a heavy weight covered my body. I blinked back the tears of fear, my thoughts no longer on the shadowy figure by the edge of my bed. Instead, I stared in utter shock at the basketball-sized head full of enormous teeth and fangs which were longer than my fingers. White, heavy wisps of steam exited from his huge mouth, the skin pulled away from his gums in a silent snarl. Every muscle in his giant torso was taut and tense, ready to pounce. Rough, sandpaperlike fur had replaced his silken coat and made the skin on my bare legs, arms, and neck itch. His eyes were no longer green. They had turned into a bright gold, so intense they glowed in the darkness of my room, along with the brilliant white of his coat. His whiskers were thick and sharp as they glanced across my cheek. Heat rolled off him in waves, and I grimaced at the strange, sweet aroma coming from his coat and mouth.
Lost in confusion, I figured I was trapped in a vivid dream—one where my little furry stray was bigger than the neighbor’s Great Dane, Beowulf. I had forgotten all about the Shadow-Man. Tinker, or what had been Tinker, had not forgotten. Any doubt about being asleep vanished as pain ripped through my chest. The claws were like sharp, hot daggers as the cat’s mammoth paws dug in, followed by a sound I had never heard before. It was almost like a woman screaming at the top of her lungs but much more frightening—the roar so loud it made my ears ring. My heart skipped several beats when the growl followed. The bed shook, and I heard pictures fall off my wall and crash on the floor.
It was all too much for me to take in. My mind and body went limp. Terror from the monster beside my bed and the one on top of me consumed all reasonable thoughts from my brain. I wanted to scream out for my mom, willing her to answer my silent pleas for help. Instead, all I heard was unfamiliar voices, full of power and might, say:
“Give her to me, Nahu’ala.”
“Be gone, Hattak’katos. You are too late—the child is already mine.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“Mom, can I have another piece of bacon?”
“Of course, sweetie. Comin’ right up. My, but what an appetite you have this mornin’! You must be excited about cheerleadin’ class today.”
“I am. Can’t wait to show everyone I can do the splits! But Mom, uh, would you make it less crispy this time?”
“Sheryl!”
“Sorry, Daddy, but the last ones were too crunchy.”
“Since when did that ever bother you before?” Dad shot back.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. Since now?”
“My, my. Aren’t you a bossy little thing today? Guess your dream last night made you wake up on the wrong side of bed. Either that or you have ants in your pants. Lawd, not even old enough to be on the squad and already actin’ like a snotty cheerleader. Won’t be no livin’ with her if she makes the cut in middle school.”
Daddy reached over my plate and grabbed the salt shaker. His words were harsher than the look on his face. In his early morning funk, his big fingers knocked the grape jelly bowl off the table. It would have been a sticky mess to clean up had my hand not shot out and caught it before it hit the floor. Daddy grinned at me, the topic of my new preference for bacon long gone. Trouble would have started if he broke another one of Mom’s favorite glass bowls. He gave me a quick thank you wink while he salted his eggs. “Jolene, she acts more and more like you every day. A real Dixie Diva in the making. And reflexes like a cat. That she gets from me. Wish you’d use those skills on the basketball court, punkin’, instead all that energy you waste runnin.’ And now this! Bouncin’ on the sidelines, wavin’ them pompoms at the crowd. It’s a shame, I tell ya.”
Mom swatted her spatula at Daddy’s head, her heavy blonde curls bouncing behind her with the movement. They exchanged glances with each other, full of love and playfulness at their verbal sparring. I ignored them both and set the jelly dish back on the table. The argument about my chosen sport would never end until I caved and decided to play hoops when I was old enough to play for the team.
“Call me what you like, but you married me, knowin’ full well I’m a handful. I want my daughter to speak her peace, even if it is for somethin’ as trivial as how she likes her food cooked. Good practice for later on in life when menfolk try to control her. We are raisin’ us a modern gal, not some wimpy girl afraid to voice her opinions. No siree. Now, one or two slices, honey?”
“Two, please. One for me and one for Tinker. I owe him a treat. He saved me last night.”
“Now, there’s some nice manners. And though I appreciate you usin’ ’em, you aren’t to give that walkin’ hairball our bacon. He has his own food right over there.” Daddy pointed to the small alcove at the other end of the kitchen. “It’s bad enough he’s eatin’ in the house. I’ll be damned if he eats our food, too.”
“Jared…language?”
Daddy waived Mom’s words away with his hand. “The only thing that critter did for you was bring dam…dang fleas into your bed.”
“Daddy, he saved me last night. From the Shadow-Man. He was gonna kill me. Slice me up right there in my bed with his big knife.”
Mom turned off the stove and brought a steaming plate of bacon and eggs to the table. Before Daddy said another word, she shot him a look. “Sheryl, I told you last night you just had a bad nightmare. You went right to sleep after I tucked you back in without another peep. I think part of that was because Tinker was in your room. Made you feel safe, sort of like a livin’, breathin’ teddy bear. The other part was that you were exhausted. And the reason you had a bad dream is your nana’s fault.”
“How is it Nana’s fault?” I asked, trying not to giggle as Tinker wound his body around my legs under the table. I slipped him a piece of limp bacon from my plate while Mom and Daddy busied themselves with piling more food onto their own.
“She filled your head yesterday with all her silly stories, honey. But that’s all they are. Silly stories. Shoot, I heard them so many times when I was a youngin’, even I used to dream about them. And when I went back home after a visit at Nana’s, your meemaw would tell me the exact same thing I’m tellin’ you now—they are just the ramblin’s of a woman who’s gettin’ old and confuses things in her head. Nana has trouble tellin’ the difference between what she reads or sees on TV and what’s real. Always has, ever since the flood and she lost Pop-pop.”
“Well, I believe her. I saw with my own eyes. Tinker turned into a big cat—bigger than Beowulf! He snarled and growled, and it scared away the Shadow-Man. Told him he couldn’t have me because I was already his.”
The sound of Daddy’s fork as it landed on his plate was loud and made me jump. Tinker flung his body against the screen door in fright and shot out into the backyard, a piece of bacon clamped in his jaws as he ran. “Sheryl Ilene, that is enough back talkin’ this mornin.’ Eat your breakfast and then get yourself upstairs and ready for school. No more jabberin’ about shadows and strays grow
in’ into monsters. You and your imagination!”
I tried to hold back my tears. Daddy rarely snapped at me, and usually it was when I had done something to cause his anger to flare. I could tell from the tone in his voice and the look on his face he didn’t believe me. But I knew I hadn’t imagined things, and I had the marks to prove it.
For a second, I thought about showing them both the scratches on my chest. I sensed they wouldn’t believe me, though. Mom didn’t believe me last night. And I had been the only one to feel the icy cold of the wood on my door. Would they even be able to see the claw marks on my chest? If they could, they would probably think I scratched myself in my sleep. Instead of crying, I gobbled two pieces of bacon in one big bite and stood up. “Yes sir,” I mumbled. Without raising my eyes to meet theirs, I walked over to the back door and pushed it open. Daddy was muttering under his breath about Nana and her crazy stories, scolding Mom for letting the old woman scare me on our visit to her house yesterday. I didn’t pay him any attention because I knew Nana had nothing to do with last night. “Nahu’ala, here kitty. Come back inside.”
The grumbled conversation between my parents ended when the sound of shattering glass filled the kitchen. I looked over my shoulder to see what fell on the floor, thinking Daddy knocked something else off the table. Mom’s face turned white, her skin almost matching her light hair and white shirt. Her voice was thick with worry when she asked, “What did you just say?”
“I called for Tinker. I want him inside with me while I brush my teeth.”
“You said Nahu’ala, not Tinker. Where…where did you hear that name? Did Nana say that name to you before?”
I shook my head no. With a cluck of my tongue and a snap of my fingers, I tried one more time to entice Tinker to come back. I scanned the back yard but didn’t see him anywhere. The look on my mom’s face made my stomach feel funny. I needed my furry friend to help calm my nerves.
“Sheryl, your momma asked…”
Daddy’s comment was cut short when the cordless phone on the table rang. He wiped his mouth and stood up, snatching the phone to his ear with one quick scoop. In two strides, he was in the living room and out of earshot.
Mom still waited for my answer, and somehow I felt the strange urge to not say another word. A cold sensation inside of me, like invisible fingers, kept my mouth clamped shut. I let the screen door go and turned around to head upstairs to finish getting ready for school. I bounded up the stairs two at a time and hoped Mom wouldn’t follow me. Once I reached the bathroom door, I heard her dainty footsteps coming up the stairs.
In a rush, I raced to the sink and grabbed my toothbrush, plopped a dab of paste on it and began brushing furiously. By the time Mom made it to the bathroom, my mouth was full of white, creamy foam. “Sheryl, you didn’t answer my question earlier.”
“Ansther what, Mooma?”
“Spit. Rinse. Turn around and look at me.”
I saw her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t look mad, and her tone wasn’t angry either. But her voice was full of concern and something else I couldn’t quite place. I spit the minty contents out and wiped my lips on the back of my hand. “No, Nana didn’t tell me,” I said, turning around to face her.
She knelt down in front of me, her bright blue eyes watery as they searched my face to see if I was lying to her or not. Her thick, curly hair framed her face and fell around her slender shoulders like a lion’s mane. Normally, when I looked at her, all I would do was marvel at how pretty she was and wonder why Daddy said I was the spitting image of her. But seeing her shimmering tears caught me off guard. I felt the immediate sting of my own and forced them not to spill down my cheeks. “Sheryl, are you sure? Think. Think real hard on all the times Nana told you stories. Not even once?”
“No, Mom. I promise. I…I already told you. The Shadow-Man called him that last night. And I liked the name and the way it sounded. Guess I shoulda’ kept it to myself.”
Mom’s hand trembled as she reached out to touch my forehead like she did when checking for a fever. Daddy was loudly talking on the phone downstairs, but neither of us paid much attention to him. Mom’s worried gaze sent chills of alarm up my back. “The Shadow-Man called Tinker Nahu’ala? Did he say anything else?”
“No. But Tinker did.”
“What…” she started, then cleared her throat before she continued, “did you hear next?”
“He said, ‘Be gone, Hattak’katos. You are too late. The child is already mine.’ But it sounded funny. Like I heard it in my head and not with my ears.”
Mom’s eyebrows crushed together and a look of confusion passed over her face. Her warm hand fell away from my forehead and down to the floor to steady her kneeling, wobbly legs. Heat from embarrassment flushed my cheeks, for I knew my words were the source of her distress. I wanted to kick myself for calling out the new name of my furry protector and wasn’t exactly sure why I did to begin with. The name rolled easily off my tongue, though, and sent waves of comfort flowing through my body when spoken.
Unsure what I should say or do, I stood on the bright yellow bath mat in the middle of the floor and looked at Mom. With a few blinks of her eyes, she seemed to regain her composure. She stood up and wiped her slender fingers across her upper lip, removing the droplets of sweat that had formed there. She started to speak, but the sound of Daddy’s heavy footsteps in the hallway and loud voice made her pause.
“Jolene! Where are…oh, there you are,” Daddy barked. His eyes shifted between the two of us for a split second. He took a heavy breath and lowered his voice. “Jolene, honey. We need to talk.”
The thin hairs on my arms and neck stood up in response to the electricity level in the room skyrocketing. Daddy’s face was red, and tears of his own welled up in his eyes. It was one thing to see Mom’s tears, but Daddy’s? The only other time I had seen him so upset was when his momma, Gramma Pat, passed away two years before.
“What’s wrong, honey? Did somethin’ happen at the restaurant? Oh, God, was it a fire? Someone hurt? It’s not Papa Joe, is it?”
Daddy didn’t answer Mom’s rapid fire questions. He motioned with his head for her to follow him out into the hallway. As Mom walked out of the bathroom, Daddy’s warm hand ruffled the top of my hair and he said, “Sheryl, finish gettin’ ready. Mommy and Daddy need to talk. Hurry up now. Barb will be here any minute to walk to school with ya, and it ain’t polite to make her wait.”
I shot into my room, but then peeked around my bedroom doorframe. They made their way to the top of the staircase and stopped. I noticed Daddy’s arm covered Mom’s stiff shoulders with a protective grip. His lips were within inches of Mom’s ear and his voice but a mere whisper. I strained to listen to what he said, but all I heard was the low rumble from his throat, the words unintelligible.
My bare feet moved without a sound over the polished hardwood floor as I stepped out of the bedroom and inched my way toward the bathroom. I was trying to follow Daddy’s instructions and finish getting ready for school, but I sensed something was wrong. Daddy’s words were coming faster now. Although Mom’s back was turned to me, I knew I was right. Her shoulder’s sagged and she leaned into his chest with her head bowed. Daddy’s big arms wrapped around her, and she shuddered. I knew the news was not good.
“Oh, no. Oh, God. Poor Nana. I can’t believe she’s…”
Mom’s words cut off with great sobs as she fell apart in Daddy’s strong arms. The minute I heard them, my body froze. My view of the hallway shifted, and suddenly, I wasn’t inside our house anymore.
My head whipped from side to side as I tried to figure out where I was. Goosebumps spread over me and my feet felt strange. I looked down and discovered it was because I stood in wet mud. A small gasp escaped when I noticed I was naked and outside in the darkest part of the night. Moonlight streamed through the gnarled trees that surrounded me from every angle, illuminating the area like floodlights. The chill of the night air breezed across my bare skin, and the hair on my arms, le
gs, and torso stood erect. My nose twitched as it took in all the smells of the wet woods. The mold, the damp pine needles, the rotting leaves and mud under my feet hit me all at once. Then, I caught a whiff of something else. Something I had never smelled before yet seemed to instinctively know what it was.
Fear.
Terrified, I closed my eyes and willed myself to wake up. I had to be dreaming again. I clenched my hands together at my sides and tried to make my legs respond to my instructions to stand still, but they moved on their own. My eyes flew back open. My body wound seamlessly through the tangle of underbrush and vines, my steps sure and steady. The moon’s silvery rays lit up the path, and I saw every detail of the forest, from the tiniest leaf to the farthest limb. My feet glided with ease, and my footfalls were silent. The odor was stronger now. My ears picked up the sounds of the forest—things impossible for me to hear. A squirrel high above me in the trees hunkered down in its nest for the night. The sound of scurrying feet to my left I somehow knew was a small field mouse scuttling through the leaves on its way to its warm den. I heard heavy, raspy breathing in front of me from some creature—type unknown but obviously large—judging by the respirations. I let go of the fear inside me, knowing I must be dreaming, and I embraced the warm power surging through my body.
Once I gave in and stopped trying to control my limbs, my pace quickened and I moved deeper into the forest. The scent was stronger now, accompanied by a strange sound. It took a few seconds for me to recognize it as whimpering. A woman’s faint voice drifted across the air, and I sensed her pain and fear.
“Do as you wish, you foul, unholy creature. I ain’t gonna tell you the location.”
Horror pounded inside my head when I realized it was the voice of Nana. My legs pumped in a flat-out run. My feet barely touched the wet ground as I zigzagged through the forest toward her feeble voice. Anger licked a fire inside me, igniting the muscles of my entire body. The forest whizzed by in a blur as I charged through it. Her words were forceful, but I sensed the raw terror behind them. Hearing them infuriated me and filled me with blinding rage.
Growl Page 3
