Still growling, Patch continued slowly backing up until he disappeared from view around the side of the building. And then, once he was safely out of sight, he began to howl. It wasn’t a fun-loving, I-want-to-sing, kind of howl. On the contrary, it was an I’m-scared-shitless, dying-in-pain, heaven-help-me, howl. A long, drawn-out howl that sent shivers racing down Mary’s back.
“What on earth is wrong with that dog?” Mary said, no longer interested in Krissy or the secret present in her backpack. Patch’s howls grew louder, longer, sounding like the poor dog was dying in agony.
“Ross, tell that stupid dog of yours to be quiet!” She yelled at her husband, but knew that he would not hear her inside the bait and tackle shop. But surely he could hear Patch howling. He was probably waiting for her to quiet the dog.
“If you want something done, then you have to do it yourself.” Tossing her unlit cigarette on the ground, she hurried in pursuit of her howling pet. She found Patch standing in the middle of the parking lot, howling his fool head off. The dog was oblivious to everything around him and seemed not to care about the noise he was making.
“Patch, dammit, stop that!” She yelled at the dog, but it had no effect. Head back, eyes closed, he continued to howl at the top of his voice.
“What has gotten into you?” She hurried to the howling dog and gave him a good swat on the back of his head. The dog quit howling and looked at her with his one good eye, as if to inquire what he had done wrong.
“What’s the matter with you, boy?” Mary asked. “Have you lost your mind?”
As if to answer, Patch lowered his head and began to shake. Not just a little tremble, like the ones he made when he was glad to see someone. He began to shake in great, side-rattling tremors of fear. Maybe it was because she had hit him; maybe it was because she had yelled at him. Whatever the reason, Patch began to shake in fear from the tip of his tail to the tip of his nose. It had to be fear, for as he shook, the dog relieved himself, right there in the middle of the parking lot. Patch never peed when people were watching unless something scared him. Scared him real bad.
Mary looked down at the dog, not knowing what to think. “Patch, old boy, whatever is wrong with you?”
The dog looked up at her but did not stop shaking. If anything, his tremors grew more violet.
“Are you sick, boy? Is that it? Are you sick? Maybe something bit you? Maybe you got stung by a bee again? Did a bee get you, baby? Show Momma where it hurts.” She reached down and gently petted the dog, slipping her fingers beneath his leather collar.
“Maybe you smelled something that you didn’t like. Is that it? Did you smell something bad? Real bad? A skunk maybe?” Mary sniffed the air but didn’t detect anything. If Patch had smelled a scent that scared him, then it was an odor that only he could detect.
Holding the dog by the collar, she slowly led him back to the bait and tackle shop. There was a chain fastened near the front door of the shop that they sometimes hooked Patch to when they didn’t want him to run around, or when he had gotten into trouble for something. Patch didn’t mind being chained near the door, for that allowed him to watch the customers coming and going.
Fastening the chain to the dog’s collar, Mary patted him on the head. His howling had stopped, and his tremors were starting to slack off. Whatever had upset him, it was passing.
Giving Patch a final pat and a few soft words, she went inside the bait and tackle shop to talk with her husband. Ross had heard the dog howling and wanted to know what was the problem. She said that she didn’t know, but he was quiet now.
Leaving the bait and tackle shop, Mary slowly walked back to her restaurant. Krissy was no longer using the garden hose and had hung it back up on the side of the building. Mary smiled and shook her head. Most kids would have just left the hose out, leaving it for her to put away.
Maybe she had gotten upset for nothing earlier. Krissy seemed like a good kid and probably didn’t have anything of value in her backpack. It was probably just a shiny rock or a shell she had collected while out canoeing. Valuable treasures to a child, but of no interest to anyone else.
One thing for sure, it had definitely been a strange day, and the day was only half over.
Mary smiled. “I could really use a cigarette.”
Chapter Eight
Krissy had been nervous at lunch, having to eat in the restaurant of the lady who had gotten mad at her. Sitting down at one of the tables with her parents, she had avoided eye contact with Mary Ross, pretending to be interested in one of the stuffed fish hanging on the wall. And when they had been served the bass they had caught, she had looked down as if carefully placing her napkin on her lap.
She expected Mary to say something to her, because she had been really mad at Krissy. Mary Ross had wanted to know what Krissy was hiding in her backpack, what she had been cleaning with the garden hose, and had been upset when Krissy refused to tell her. But she couldn’t show Mary what she was cleaning, because it was a secret. Her special friend would be mad if she showed anyone. He had said the bones were a special gift, magical, and she was not supposed to show them to anyone.
She had already broken one secret by telling her parents about her special friend, and she was not going to break another. Krissy did not want her special friend to be mad at her, didn’t want to be called a tattletale, so she was being careful about not showing the bones to anyone. Mrs. Ross did not know about the secret, and Krissy couldn’t tell her, so she had gotten mad earlier in the day. But maybe Mary Ross wasn’t mad anymore, because she didn’t say anything to Krissy or her parents. Still, lunch had been very uncomfortable. Dinner was even worse.
Krissy told her parents she wanted to go to McDonald’s for dinner, but her parents wouldn’t hear of it. They didn’t want to eat burgers and French fries, not when the fish camp’s tiny restaurant served excellent food at a reasonable cost. Besides, the closest Mickey D’s was miles away.
It wasn’t that she really wanted to eat burgers and fries, or even Chicken McNuggets, Krissy just didn’t want to eat at the restaurant again. She was scared of Mary Ross, afraid the woman might say something to her parents about what had happened earlier in the day. Her parents would also want to know what Krissy was hiding in the backpack and why she had been rude to an adult. Krissy would be in real trouble for being rude; they might even make her stay in the cabin as punishment. She couldn’t have that. If she had to stay in the cabin, she wouldn’t be able to visit her special friend again.
So it was with a heavy heart that Krissy accompanied her parents back to the restaurant for dinner. The tiny restaurant was crowded, with only a couple of the tables still empty. There was a waitress on duty to greet customers, a young woman with short red hair. That was a good thing. If the restaurant was busy, then Mrs. Ross had to stay in the kitchen cooking. She wouldn’t have time to come out to see who was eating in her restaurant, wouldn’t know that Krissy and her family were back again.
Seeing that the restaurant was busy, Krissy’s spirit actually picked up. Not having to worry about Mary Ross looking at her was a relief, and she actually looked forward to eating dinner.
The waitress brought them glasses of ice water, with slices of lemon in them, then took their drink orders. She returned a few minutes later with the drinks and asked what they would like for dinner. Robert and Janet both chose the stuffed pork chops, while Krissy again ordered chicken fingers.
“Anything else?” the waitress asked, jotting down the order on the tiny pad of paper she carried.
“Nope. That should do it,” Robert replied, handing her his menu.
The waitress started to turn away, but Janet stopped her. “Is Mary in the back?”
“Yes, ma’am,” nodded the waitress.
“Please tell her thank you for lunch today. It was very nice of her to let us use her kitchen. The fish we caught were a real treat.”
The waitress smiled. “I’ll tell her.”
“And if she’s not too busy later, we wou
ld love to thank her personally,” Robert said.
“I’ll give her the message.” The waitress smiled again and walked away.
Krissy’s heart sank. Moments ago she had been happy that Mary Ross was nowhere to be seen, now her father was asking the woman to come out of the kitchen. Why couldn’t he have been quiet instead? Why did he have to be so friendly?
The food came, and Mary Ross still had not come out of the kitchen. Maybe she was too busy to come out. Perhaps she didn’t want to come out to talk with Robert and Janet. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to come out before they finished their meal. With these thoughts in mind, Krissy starting eating her chicken fingers, hoping to be finished and gone before Mary had a chance to come out of the kitchen.
Krissy was on her last strip of chicken when Mary Ross came out of the kitchen and approached their table, causing her appetite to suddenly die.
“Good evening, folks,” Mary said, stopping in front of their table. “How is everything tonight?”
“Excellent,” Robert replied. “Everything’s great.”
“The stuffed pork chops are wonderful,” added Janet.
Mary smiled and nodded. “How are the chicken fingers, Krissy? Good, I hope.”
A piece of chicken stuck in Krissy’s throat. She swallowed hard, nearly choking. “They’re good.”
“Glad to hear it.” Mary nodded. “I wouldn’t want any unhappy customers. By the way, thank you for hanging the garden hose back up.”
Krissy shifted in her seat, uncomfortable. “You’re welcome.”
Mary Ross looked at her for a moment longer, then turned her attention to Krissy’s parents. Krissy expected the woman to say something else, perhaps tell her parents about what happened earlier in the day, but she didn’t say anything about it. Instead, she chatted politely with Robert and Janet and then excused herself so she could go back into the kitchen.
Krissy picked up her last chicken strip. Her appetite had returned, having endured another meal without Mrs. Ross saying anything to her parents. And Krissy hadn’t said anything either, not one word about the bones she had hidden in her room at the cabin. Her special friend would be proud.
That night, after dinner, Krissy went into her room and locked the door. The four bones she had found were hidden in the bottom drawer of the dresser, carefully wrapped up in one of her T-shirts. Opening the drawer, she took out the shirt and carried it to her bed.
She set the shirt on the center of her bed and carefully opened it to reveal the treasure she had found earlier in the day. Not found. She hadn’t found the bones. Not really. She had been given them. They were a gift from her special friend. A magical gift.
Krissy frowned. Her special friend had said the bones were magical, but they didn’t look very magical. They just looked like old yellowed bones and nothing more. Pieces of a dead animal, like something a dog might dig up.
None of the bones were very big; the largest was only about six inches long and about an inch wide. She picked that bone up and looked at it, holding it up to the light for a better view. It looked like a rib bone, like the kind her dad left on his plate after eating at Jack’s Bar-Be-Que.
The other three bones didn’t look like any bones Krissy had ever seen before. They looked like big knuckles. She thought they might be back bones, but she wasn’t sure. Science and biology were not her best subjects in school. She thought back bones had a different name, but she couldn’t remember it.
“Vertebras,”, she said, suddenly remembering the word. That was the word. That’s what they called back bones. Three of the four bones that lay on the bed before her were vertebras. Back bones. The other was a rib bone of some kind.
“They don’t look magical,” she said, setting down the rib bone and picking up one of the vertebras. She held the bone in her left hand and wrapped her fingers around it. The vertebra didn’t feel warm; it didn’t vibrate in her hand, or tingle.
“I wish I had a strawberry milk shake,” Krissy said aloud, closing her eyes. “A thick strawberry milk shake, with whipped cream and a cherry on top.” She opened her eyes and looked around, but there was no strawberry milk shake to be seen. In her storybooks, if you made a wish with a magical object, those wishes always came true. But maybe the bones were a different kind of magic.
“Big deal,” she said, turning the vertebra over in the palm of her hand. What good were magical bones if you couldn’t use them to wish for things you wanted? Some gift. “These aren’t special.”
But they are special, little one. Very ssspecial.
The voice startled her, nearly causing her to jump up off the bed.
“You’re here? In my room?” She looked around. “Where? I don’t see you.”
Yes. I’m here, Krissy. The bones are ssspecial. As long as you have them I can visit you.
“But where are you? I can’t see you.”
I am here. There. Everywhere.
Krissy pouted. “No one can be everywhere.”
I can.
The little girl still wasn’t convinced. “I want to see you.”
Very well, the voice said. You can see me. Look to the window, little one. What do you see?
Excited, Krissy turned to look at the window. But there was nothing to be seen. “I don’t see anything.”
Look closer, Krisssy. I am there.
She stood up and crossed the room, stopping in front of the window. “I still don’t see anything. It’s too dark outside.”
There. You do see me. I am the darkness that touches the glass of your window. I am the night that waits in the forest, beyond the campfires of men.
She was disappointed. “All I see is the night. I don’t see you. You said that I would get to see you, but you lied.”
I did not lie, little one.
“Then when will I get to see you?”
Soon. Very soon. But first you have to help me.
“Help you do what?”
I need you to find more bones, only then will you be able to see me. Only when all the bones are gathered will I be able to be seen.
“Why do you need my help?”
Because you are the only one who can hear me, little one. That is because you are ssspecial. You are a special little girl. That is why I am your special friend. A special friend for a ssspecial little girl.
Krissy thought it over, then asked, “How many bones do I have to find?”
There are many left to be found. But you can do it. You are ssspecial.
Krissy shook her head. “I can’t. My parent’s will be mad if I sneak off without telling them. I have to ask their permission.”
Noooooo.... hissed the voice. You must tell no one. This is our secret.
“I can’t go,” Krissy said, still shaking her head. “I’ll get into trouble.”
Do not disappoint me, little one. Do not be like the others.
“Others?”
Yessss. Others. Boys and girls your age. I asked for their help and they refused me. Refused to help their ssspecial friend.
The voice she heard inside her head had changed. It was no longer warm and fluid. Instead it was as cold as ice, and as sharp as the blade of a knife. It entered her head and grated across her mind, sending shivers down her back.
Krissy swallowed hard, suddenly afraid. “What happened to the others?”
Bad things. Terrible things. Things you do not want to think about. They made me mad and bad things happened to them. You do not want bad things to happen to you. You do not want to make me mad. Do you?
The little girl shook her head, wishing the voice would go away and leave her alone. She was suddenly thinking that maybe having a special friend was not so nice after all.
Good. Then you will help me?
Krissy nodded.
Good. Very good. I will guide you, Krissy. I will show you where to find the rest of the bones. But you must tell no one about what you have found. You must not let anyone follow you. It must be a secret. A ssspecial secret between ssspecial friends. Onc
e you find the rest of the bones I will let you see me. Would you like that, Krissy?
“I guess so,” Krissy muttered.
Good. We can play then, little one. Play games if you like. We can sing, and you can read me one of your stories.
“Which story?” Krissy asked, suddenly interested.
Any story you like, the voice replied. But do not fail me, little one. Bad things happen to those who fail. Look to the window, Krissy, and see what will happen if you fail.
Krissy lifted her head and looked at the window that was only inches from her face. As she looked out the window, a large brown palmetto bug crawled across the glass. Another palmetto bug followed. And then another.
Krissy stepped back as palmetto bugs started scurrying across the window. Not just one or two bugs, but dozens of them. Maybe even hundreds. Thousands. In a matter of only a few seconds the window’s glass surface was completely covered with the oversized cockroaches.
As Krissy stared in horror at the bugs, the voice inside her head again spoke. Look what I can do, little one. See the power that I have. Do not fail me, Krisssy. Do not disobey. For if you fail me, I will open your window and let the bugs in.
The voice in her head slowly faded, leaving behind an icy numbness that caused the skin at her temples to pull tight. As the voice left, the palmetto bugs disappeared back into the darkness surrounding the cabin. The window was again empty, and a very frightened little girl found herself staring into the night.
“I won’t disappoint you,” Krissy said, her voice small with fear. “I promise I won’t.”
Chapter Nine
Krissy slept little that night, and when she did sleep her dreams were filled with visions of cockroaches, millions of them, crawling over the windows of her room, scurrying over her bed and over her body. Twice she awoke from her dreams to swat at imaginary bugs, and each time her eyes were drawn to the window. Beyond the glass was the night, and somewhere in that darkness was her special friend, Mansa. A friend she could not see, who spoke only in her head, and who would summon cockroaches if she did not do what he asked.
Evil Whispers Page 8
