And Crawling Things Lurk

Muri had no idea what they could be up to, but she was certain it was something she wouldn’t like.

It was way back in the last week of school that she fought off Tory and his friends, and here it was the first week of July, and still nothing. She saw them around town most days as the summer wore on, at the park, Little League games, the movies, swimming pool, but they hadn’t teased or harassed her at all. They never even said a word to her. Even at the city fireworks show last night they didn’t do anything, and she was just out there on the big lawn with her best friend, Carrie, two easy targets for thrown firecrackers, at least. At other times, the few times she had noticed the boys walking in the same direction behind her, they would either hang far back, or go by another route, altogether. She sure didn’t mind the change, but she couldn’t help thinking they were just setting her up for something really bad.

It was Friday morning, and she was on her way to meet Carrie at the Cloud Nine Preschool where they were signed up to read to the little kids. As she rounded the Dairy Queen corner two blocks from her destination, she saw Tory, Mickey, and Rick coming down the sidewalk from the other direction. The DQ was a popular hangout for the kids in town, and she often saw Tory there. But, this time, before the boys got there, they crossed the street and kept going.

She turned at the sound of a low chuckle behind her. Officer Evans leaned against his patrol car in the side lot and said before taking another sip of his coffee, “You’d think they had some reason to stay away from you.” Then, “How’s it going, Muri?”

“Okay.”

“Have those boys been behaving themselves? No more harassment?”

“Yeah – I mean no. I mean...how come? They act like I’m poison, or something.”

“Well, I suppose, in a way, you are – for them. Does it bother you?”

“Only ’cause I don’t know why. I don’t know if I should be ready for something when they get around to their next trick.”

Evans shook his head and motioned for her to have a seat on the bench next to the car. After sitting beside her, he said, “I want you to tell me if there is another trick. Anything at all, okay?”

“Okay. Sure. But –”

“I had a good, long talk with those boys and their parents. I think I convinced them how unpleasant their lives could be if they were to do something stupid and wind up listed as sexual offenders for the rest of their lives. Tory’s dad had a hard time accepting that his son had done the things you accused him of, even after Tory admitted it. And he still thought Jackie should be charged with enough that he would be permanently removed from the streets of our town.”

Muri’s mouth dropped in outrage. Her mind screamed to protest even the idea of such a thing, but which argument to pursue?

Sofia paused in her slow pace down the sidewalk to make periodic glances about her surroundings to see if anyone was paying particular attention to her. Frederick would be so angry with her for coming out of the house again, but he shouldn’t leave it so long between visits.

She supposed she could catch another dog. There didn’t seem to be so many around, anymore, though. Not like there used to be running loose and barking at every horse that went by. Anyway, they could make a lot of noise before she silenced them. Calves and sheep had always been satisfactory, although they could be noisy, too. Cats could work, but they were almost not worth the trouble with their lightning-quick teeth and claws. Long ago, back in those first years when her difference was discovered by the family, after they had isolated her from non-family members, an occasional lamb or calf would hardly have been missed from neighboring farms, just the price of ranching in cougar country. But by the time Alexander assumed the duty to provide for her, livestock had become much less prevalent. She had no idea where or how far she might have to go for them. If only Frederick... She probably should have waited until dark, at least, but she did enjoy walking about town and seeing all the people and all the new things.

Coming along the sidewalk toward her was a young woman wearing shabby clothes and pushing a large, four-wheeled, metal cart. Sofia moved over to give room to the cart loaded with a jumble of wadded up clothing, half a dozen well-worn books, a couple of blankets, also showing more than a little wear, a plate with two large chips out of the rim, and some small bags and one large one bulging with objects of uneven shapes. She smiled and nodded as the woman went past, but the woman, exuding an odor of old wine – not aged, just old – appeared to be unaware of her. Her cargo was obviously not new, so Sofia wondered why she hadn’t left the stuff at home.

A block farther, she found a similar cart parked and unattended just inside the entrance to an alley. She peered down the alley for someone that might have left it but saw no one. Perhaps this is how folks disposed of old and worn out belongings. But, after being abandoned in alleys, what would become of them? Then it occurred to her that the woman with the other cart was probably heading for just such a place, or, perhaps she had just claimed one she found that contained just what she needed. Now, that made sense. She saw no others sitting about. It seemed to be a system that worked well.

She picked through its contents, a smelly blanket and an assortment of old clothing, some bent eating utensils, a couple of books, and a nearly empty bottle of wine. She had no need for them, so she set each item on the ground where they could be claimed by someone who could use them. Then, reconsidering, she put the blanket back in and pushed off with it down the sidewalk in the same direction she had been going. The cart’s squeaking wheel didn’t really bother her. Maybe that’s the way it was made, although she didn’t remember the other woman’s cart squeaking. She was rather amazed that this new, futuristic world into which she had emerged had something so specialized as a handy cart for disposing of unwanted items. But it should work nicely, too, for carrying her catch safely secreted beneath the blanket. It was just a matter of finding a suitable one in suitable circumstances.

Before Muri could settle on a line of argument, Officer Evans went on. “So, I explained to the reverend that I would arrest Jackie for assault and battery on a child, and that he would be notified when Tory, along with Rick and Mickey would be needed to testify in court about how they came to fall into Jackie’s clutches. He changed his mind and decided not to press it. I’m glad your folks decided not to press it, too. Jackie’s not the best citizen in town, but he’s not really bad. I’d hate to see something serious hung on him.”

Only somewhat appeased, she was still prepared to rise to Jackie’s defense. “I thought you didn’t like him.”

Don got a pained look on his face, sort of like he had suddenly developed an uncomfortable gas bubble in his gut. After a moment, it softened to a smile. “I don’t dislike him, but Jackie is a hard guy to like. He just plain doesn’t make it easy. He used to, I understand, back before he went in the army. I’ve heard he was okay back then, not hard at all to like. But that was before my time. I didn’t come to Cedar City until after he left. They say he was changed when he came home. Then he got to drinking heavy and hanging out down at the Hole. They say he’d been wounded somehow, but it must not have been too serious. I mean, he didn’t lose an arm or leg. He’s not covered in gross burn scars. He doesn’t even limp. All I’ve seen are a couple of little scars on the side of his forehead; although, I haven’t seen what might be under his clothes. It’s not like he ever goes to the muni pool for a swim.”

“I bet he was a hero.”

“Oh, I doubt it. He doesn’t strike me as the hero type.”

“He saved me from Tory and his friends.”

“Okay. He can be your hero.”

“But, he seems nice. Maybe if he had a friend...”

“Now, don’t you go getting ideas. Your folks don’t want you going anywhere near the Hole. Remember?”

“But, he’s not down there all the time. He doesn’t live there, does he?”

“No, he’s not homeless. He lives with his grandmother over on Dunham Street. He just spends his time, and his money, down at the Hole.”

“Where does he work?”

“He doesn’t. I doubt if he could hold down a job. I think he gets a government check every month, so I guess he does have some kind of disability. And his grandma probably gets a social security check. Unfortunately, a good part of Jackie’s goes into the bottle. And he’s got friends. Old Joe Ortega, Josie Reynolds and the rest of them that hang out at the Hole are always happy to see him come down ’cause he always brings a bottle or two, and he shares.”

“Sounds like he could use a friend that just wants to be a friend.”

“Yeah, he probably could. But, not you. Hear me?”

“Yes, sir.” But, of course, hearing him didn’t necessarily mean she agreed with him. And she hadn’t actually agreed to stay away from the man she was grateful to and who seemed to really, really need a friend. The more she heard about him, the more she was sure that was probably what he needed more than anything. As it was, she had already wasted half the summer.

“Well, I gotta get back to work.” With a slap of both palms to his knees, he stood, hefted his belt to reposition the weight of the holstered pistol and all the other heavy things kept handy there. “See you around.”

“Bye.” She wiggled her fingers at him in a goodbye wave.

Muri watched the patrol car drive away then got herself a small lemonade to drink on the way to Cloud Nine. She was sipping the dregs through the straw still half a block from the preschool when she noticed an old, homeless woman struggling with a shopping cart. As she got closer, she recognized Sofia from their brief encounter a few weeks earlier. Even though the cart was empty except for a blanket, a cocked wheel had caught in an opening under the lip of a storm drain and wasn’t about to be lifted straight up over the curb. It didn’t appear that Sofia was aware of it, and she kept trying to pull it up as she backed onto the sidewalk with it.

“Hi,” Muri said when she was close, and Sofia turned toward her. “The front wheel’s caught. Here, let me help.”

“Why, thank you, dear,” Sofia said in a voice so soft and mellow, it made Muri think of peaches, soft and fuzzy outside and creamy inside, ripening in the sun. “That’s very sweet of you.”

After Muri pulled the cart forward a few inches, she lifted it up over the curb, pushing it away from the curb enough so she was sure it wouldn’t roll back off again when its diminutive owner took it back. She smiled at Sofia, who was not more than an inch or two taller than her, and she was amazed that someone could be so wrinkled.

“Well, I’ll be.” the quiet voice said. “I can handle the weight well enough, so I couldn’t understand why it wouldn’t lift. I’m very grateful. You’re Muri, aren’t you?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, thank you, Muri. How can I repay you for your kindness? Would you like to come to my house for something sweet?”

Muri almost blurted out that if she had a house, why was she walking around with an old shopping cart like she was homeless? Instead, she shook her head and, as she started walking away, said, “No, that’s all right, thanks. I’ve got to go help at the preschool, and I’m almost late. Bye.”

“Are you sure, Muri? It’s not far.”

Sofia sounded to Muri like she was more disappointed than the situation called for, but then she realized the old woman was probably just lonely. How sad. She turned back to Sofia, smiled, waved, and went on her way.

Sofia watched the thin, young girl walk away, and wanted to call her back, to invite her, again, to come home with her for some sweet cakes; they would do her so much good. But she resisted. She mustn’t bring attention to herself, and persistent invitations might be noticed and remembered.

She looked about, searching for a suitable replacement, but everyone seemed to be occupied with something, inside vehicles, or otherwise unattainable. She could wait for Muri to come back, but there was no telling how long she might be. The girl might not even come back this way. She wheeled the cart down a side street, turned another corner, down two more blocks, and found she had come in a circle. Here she was back among old, run-down and abandoned buildings, some of the warehouses Uncle Khristo had built so long ago. She already knew the area was as empty of what she sought as a desert was of water. As she wheeled the cart around a chuckhole, she thought how helpful it would have been after she had caught the dog if she had had the cart and blanket instead of just carrying the beast under her arm where anyone could see it. At least a quick bite put a stop to its growling and snapping.

She was about to turn around and retrace her steps back to better hunting grounds when she noticed movement up ahead. She concentrated on the figure plodding in the distance, and recognized the same woman she had seen wandering earlier pushing a loaded cart. She must be taking her cart home. Alone. How nice.

Josie Reynolds swore under her breath and muscled her laden cart over the buckled sidewalk. The obstacle was not new to her. She pushed her cart over its raised and broken slabs every time she went out. Sometimes she would remember before she got to it and go down into the street, but the broken and holed pavement was no easier than the messed-up sidewalk.

She could always leave her cart at the nook she claimed down in the Hole, but she didn’t trust anyone down there, not completely, not with her stuff. Except Jackie. Jackie was okay. She didn’t think he’d steal someone else’s stuff even if he needed it. Not that she had anything worth stealing, anyway. Besides, if he wanted something she had, she’d give it to him. Even a bottle. She couldn’t remember ever providing any of the bottles they shared, but she sure would if she had it. Anyway, except for Jackie, no one else at the Hole had any more, and some not as much. Besides, she never knew when she might need something out of it, fresh underwear or something. That thought gave her a giggle or two. She was pretty sure she had some more underwear in there, but she couldn’t remember having seen it for a while, now. Of course, she could have changed her britches this morning and probably wouldn’t remember that, either.

So many days were fuzzy, anymore. And that thought reminded her of the lovely liquid at the cause of her memory lapses, and licked her lips in anticipation. Jackie was probably at his space, and he always had a bottle...most times. And he always shared...most times. She’d offer him a good lay. He was always ready for a good lay. Well...most times.

At the trestle, she walked around to the front of the cart and pulled it up the little dirt ramp and over the first rail. A few feet down the trestle and she did the same over the second rail and down on the other side to the top of the slope.

“Hey, Jackie!” she called out. “You down here? You want some lovin’? I got some for you if you got payment. You home, Jackie?”

“...home,” she heard Jackie’s voice answer in a nasal drone. He sounded like he had a bottle, all right, and was a good ways into it. She hoped he had a backup.

She was half way down when she heard something behind her in the distance, the familiar squeaking wheel of a shopping cart. She had heard that particular squeak just about daily for the past year or three, and smiled at the thought of her good buddy, Erica, and the bottle she might have. As she trundled on down to the bottom of the slope, she savored memories of how Erica often shared with her. And she wouldn’t have to offer her a good lay like with Jackie. Jackie wasn’t so bad when it came to a good lay, but she was ready for a bottle without all the foreplay. Just a hen party. She’d wait for Erica.

The spider on the end of the board glared at Jackie. It glared at him with its black, soulless eyes the way it always did when it came out of its dark hole. It bared its fangs at him, growling his name, and he waved his arms back at it. How’d it know his name, anyway? Because it’s not real, his inner self screamed at him. He knew it wasn’t real, knew every time it happened, but that didn’t prevent him from accepting it at face value when it did...because, he never knew when it just might turn out to be real. Not real real, like an actual, real animal, but bad real, like something from a nightmare that wasn’t in a nightmare after all, that was now as real real as the pebble digging into his ass. That could happen sometime when he was yelling at it and waving for it to go away, thinking it was just something that had crawled out of his bottle – and it could turn out real. Then what would it do? With those teeth that got bigger as it growled at him, it could chew him up in a minute. So, he just couldn’t take a chance. This could be the time. It could be real. So, he yelled at it and waved his arm, trying to erase it from his sight. But it stayed.

Where was Josie? She asked him if he was home, asked if he wanted loving. Well, he had answered her, had yelled back that he was home. So, where was she? She’d make him forget about the spider, at least for a while. Even for a while would be better than sitting here and looking at the damned thing with its big teeth. He was pretty sure he still had something in the bottle for her. But, even if he didn’t, he could still use some loving. Where the hell was she?

He rocked and rolled himself up out of his little hole, found himself on his hands and knees, and had to think hard to remember why he had done that. Then he remembered Josie and her offer. He crawled over to the crate, crawled up it until he was on his feet, and then experimented with releasing his hold on the crate to see if he would stay on his feet this time. He did – wobbly, but upright.

Moving his feet slowly and weaving and bobbing back to near-stability again after each step, he made his way out toward the bottom of the slope. Maybe Josie was still there, waiting for him. Maybe she wanted to do it over there. They had done it in just about every other spot in the Hole, why not there? He caught himself from falling over by making a grab at the top, splintery tie on a stack of a dozen or more of the ancient beams. After a bit more weaving on unsteady legs, and then nearly a minute spent on refocusing his sight on the ground before him, he released his hold and took slow, measured steps to the clumps of brush between him and the slope.

Finally, he made it to the first clump and half way around it, and there stood Josie not more than twenty feet away. But he seemed to be seeing double, because there were two of her. Two Josies and two carts. But nothing else was doubled, just Josie and her cart. Then, he realized it wasn’t double vision, just two people and two carts. Josie, he knew. The other woman was new to him.

Maybe he was going to get double loving.

But they were just standing there talking to each other. His knees kept trying to go out from under him, causing him to bob up and down and back and forth. He needed to get back to his little hole before he fell. If he fell out here, he’d have to crawl like he’d done more than a few times, and he always managed to put his hands or his knees on broken glass or something. If Josie wanted to stand out there gabbing, he’d just go back without her, and she could just forget about the last of his bottle. She could just keep her lovin’.

Before Jackie could turn around, while he still had his eyes on the two women, they suddenly went into a flurry of action. Josie yelped and swung her arm at the other woman, and the other woman waved her arms right back at her. Then Josie looked like she was swinging at herself, slapping her hands at her own head, face, arms, body, and legs. She looked like she had sat in an anthill and was trying to swat them off. And the more she swatted, the more violent she became. After a minute she fell to the ground and rolled around, but her arms didn’t swat anymore. They just clung to her like she was hugging herself. Same as her legs; they didn’t work separately, anymore. They jerked together just like her arms. She continued to squeal and thrash about, but no longer fighting the other woman, who just circled her, hovering over her with waving arms.

That’s when Jackie realized the entire thing was not real. Just like when the spider came out of its dark and stood on the end of the board, growling his name and baring its teeth at him, the other woman bared her teeth – big, long, horrible teeth – and bit Josie on the back of her neck.

See? Those big teeth do bite.

Josie became quiet and still, and the other woman reached down and picked her up. Jackie looked again at the stranger and realized she was just a little old woman – really old, and wearing sunglasses like she was a movie star or something. Now, wasn’t that cool? So, he knew that part was not real, too. She was too little and too old to just pick Josie up like that. His DT nightmares were seldom as wacky as this one. Then, even more absurd, the old woman movie star with the big teeth put Josie in her shopping cart, covered her with a blanket like a little girl with a doll in a doll carriage, and started back up the slope. Squeak...squeak...squeak. Shopping’s done, heading for the check-out.

Even as something nagged at his mind like a shadow just out of focus, he concentrated on the task before him of getting back to his own little hole without falling on his ass. Since Josie was no longer there – no, she never was there – there was no one to help him back up, so he had to be careful not to fall. Those damned glass cuts hurt.