Thing Bailiwick

by Fawn Bonning

  “I think Trevor’s in danger.” At this admission, the dam burst within her—she couldn’t stop it—and the tears erupted.

  Hopping up to take her hands, Cindy guided her to the couch, pulling her down beside her. “Take a deep breath and tell me what’s going on,” she said, glancing furtively down the hall to where the children could be heard playing in their room. “What kind of danger, Cher?”

  “Serious danger, mortal danger,” Cheryl sobbed. Fishing in her purse, she pulled a tissue from its pack and honked loudly while Cindy waited anxiously, her eyes wide and frightened.

  She drew in a deep breath. “It’s this,” she said, holding up the tape before flinging it angrily to the coffee table. “The sleepwalking. There’s something happening. Something… crazy,” she said, opting to avoid the first word that came to mind. Supernatural. “I know you’re going to think I’m nuts, but there was something in Trevor’s closet last night,” she said, deciding not to beat around the bush.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think it was a wolf.”

  Cindy smiled broadly. “This is a joke, right?”

  “Christ, Cin!” she snapped, jumping up to pace before her. “Does it look like I’m joking?” she asked, dabbing her eyes angrily. “I know, I know,” she said, shaking her head as the concerned expression returned to Cindy’s face. “Just try to bear with me for a moment. Remember how I told you about the beach sand? Well, right after Trevor’s wild ride,” she said, motioning toward the tape, “I found black horse hairs in his bed. Now I know what you’re going to say,” she added quickly, throwing up a hand to silence Cindy’s forthcoming objection. “But, I don’t have any animals, and your cat is white. Darla owns a black cat, but I haven’t been to her house in weeks.”

  “Well, there was that stray dog roaming about your neighborhood. Wasn’t it black?”

  “That was months ago. And it had long shaggy fur. And Trev didn’t get anywhere near it. Just…give me a little credit, okay. We were both raised with horses, and you know as well as I do that I would know horse hairs if I saw them.”

  She was relieved when Cindy bit her lip, refraining from comment.

  “They were on his sheets and his PJ’s.”

  Cindy pursed her lips and waited obediently for Cheryl to continue.

  “That was just the beginning. The next night, the shit really hit the fan.” Taking her place on the couch, she blew her nose one final time and dried her eyes. “He was in a jungle.”

  Cindy raised her eyebrows in a silent question.

  “I know, I know, but I swear to you, I could smell it, I could feel it, I could practically hear it. And I can see the corners of your mouth twitching, so go ahead and laugh now if you have to because you won’t be laughing in about two minutes.”

  Feigning innocence, Cindy pointed at her own chest, eyebrows arching.

  “Anyway,” she continued, dabbing at her eyes, “he was peeling an imaginary banana, and then he yelled something about Cheetah. I think he was dreaming that he was Boy or something, or maybe even Tarzan. That’s one of his favorite shows,” she continued, ignoring the fact that Cindy had put a hand to her mouth and was valiantly struggling to keep a smile from surfacing. “Anyway…he chases this imaginary monkey all around the room, Cin, it was the strangest thing you ever did see. He’s hopping over toys and avoiding furniture like he’s wide awake, and yet…he’s in a totally different place. I mean, you can see it in his eyes. He’s not there, Cin. He’s not there at all,” she said, anxiously wringing the tissue in her hands. “And then he crawls back into bed, and I think everything is fine, when all of a sudden I’ve got this big black beetle crawling on me. It was really weird-looking, Cin. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Cindy had her smile under control and was presently the model of an attentive listener, though Cheryl could still see an occasional twitch at the corner of her mouth.

  “So I go outside to get rid of it, and when I get back to Trevor’s room…now this is where it really gets weird, Cin. I swear to you, I’m not exaggerating. There’s Trevor, crouched in the corner of his bed with an imaginary knife held over his head, getting ready to strike down at something on his bed.”

  “Oh, that is creepy,” Cindy admitted with seeming sincerity.

  “Well, that’s not the creepy part. There was something under the sheet. I saw it moving.”

  “Moving?”

  “Yeah, slithering under the sheet, Cin, I swear it. As God is my witness, I think it was a snake. A big one, too,” she added, watching with satisfaction as the color drained from Cindy’s face.

  “Wha…well,” Cindy stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, “what did you do?”

  “What would you do? I grabbed him and ran like hell. Trevor woke up and went into hysterics. It was really awful, Cin. For a few minutes there, I thought I might actually have to take him to the hospital. I was afraid he might go into shock, or something. But thankfully, Jeff managed to quiet him down.”

  “But…the snake.”

  Cheryl shrugged. “Gone. Nowhere to be found. Only thing under Trevor’s sheet was Wolly. You know, that big orange snake Jeff bought him at the zoo last year?”

  “Oh, jeez,” Cindy snorted, throwing a hand to her forehead in relief.

  “I know, I know. Jeff thought I’d gone completely bonkers. He was so pissed off. Still is. He’s barely spoken a word to me since.”

  “Well, that’s a bit harsh, wouldn’t you say? Anyone can make a mistake. I mean—”

  “That’s just it, Cin. I don’t think it was a mistake. I mean, I did at the time. Hell, I was ready to call the men with the white coats to come and haul me off. I thought I was completely cracking up. But not anymore. Not after last night.”

  Slouching back on the couch, Cindy folded her arms across her chest.

  Choosing to ignore her sister’s defensive posture, Cheryl continued. “He was emulating a wildlife documentary he’d watched earlier that day. I looked it up in the TV Guide just to be sure. Go ahead, take a look,” she said, pulling the booklet from her purse and shoving it toward her.

  “No, no, I believe you.”

  “It’s in there,” she said triumphantly, feeling a sense of validation despite her sister’s skepticism. “A team of researchers was doing a study on arctic wolves. A Dying Breed,” she recited, the caption still etched clearly in her brain. “Anyway, I wake up and there’s Trevor standing in the middle of his room, his tranquilizer gun aimed at something imaginary. At least that’s what I assumed…until I heard it. I heard it plain as day, Cin. I’ll admit there’s the possibility that the shadows could have fooled my eyes with Wolly, but my ears weren’t affected by the shadows. If anything, the ears grow keener in the darkness to compensate, and I’m telling you, I heard it as plain as you’re hearing me right now.”

  She paused, taking in Cindy’s expression. Her skepticism seemed to have evaporated, at least temporarily. She seemed captivated, waiting with bated breath, even.

  “Something was in the closet, Cin.” She nodded at Cindy, satisfied with her shocked silence. “It was a wolf, I’m sure of it. An arctic wolf. A dying breed. I could hear it in there growling and sniffing around the cracks and—”

  “Cher,” Cindy whispered in a voice barely audible. “You’re scaring me.”

  She nodded. “Tell me about it,” she sighed, slumping back on the couch. “This is just…way beyond me. I need some advice, but I’m scared out of my mind.”

  “What does Jeff say?”

  “Well…I haven’t really told him. I know how he’ll react. Besides,” she added at the stunned expression on her sister’s face, “he left this morning on that business trip to New York. You remember, the one I was tell—”

  “Cher, I can’t believe you!”

  “It’s an important trip, Cin. If he can reel in this client, he’s expecting a big bonus come Christmas. And it could help get him that promotion he’s been Jonesing for, and… well… I didn’t want
him blaming me for screwing that up, just in case, you know, this is just my imagination.”

  “Aha, so you’re admitting there’s a possibility of that, then?”

  “Well… no. I mean…” She balled her fists in frustration. “It was there! I could hear it… feel it. My God, I could smell it! I knelt there half the damn night holding those doors shut, terrified out of my mind!”

  “And when you opened them?”

  “Yes!” she snapped. “It was gone, okay? But it had been there. I just know it, Cin. I truly believe that. God! Can’t you just give me a teeny smidgeon of credit?”

  Cindy sighed deeply, her expression suddenly turning to one of guilt as her shoulders slumped wearily. “I’m trying, Cher, it’s just…” She shrugged helplessly. “I think you need to confide in Jeff. He’s your husband, Cheryl. Let him help you. I mean, look at those bags under your eyes. You look like you haven’t slept in a month.”

  “I know,” she said, rubbing her hands wearily over her face. “I’ve been having terrible dreams too. And that man is in them, Cin, the one from before, with the blue eyes.”

  “The lollipop man?”

  “Yeah. But minus the candy. And he’s more than creepy now. He’s…evil. And it’s like he’s looking for me—waiting for me.”

  Cindy shifted into sympathy mode, her brow furrowing as she reached over to rub her sister’s back. “You’re under a great deal of stress, here. Jeff shouldn’t have gone and left you alone right now. I would be going nuts too, having to worry about my child traipsing all about the house at all hours of the night. Who knows what kind of trouble—”

  Jumping up abruptly, Cheryl snatched up her purse. “Trev, time to go, hon,” she hollered down the hall. “I really thought I could count on you, Cindy,” she huffed as she made her way to the front door.

  “Wait. Don’t leave, Cher,” Cindy said, jumping up to follow her. “I thought we were going to do lunch. I’ve got ham and Swiss cheese and that sourdough bread that you like so—”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, Cin, don’t. Just…don’t patronize me. I don’t need a babysitter. I’m going to go take care of some errands, not to leap off a tall building. Trev, let’s go,” she hollered over her shoulder. “See,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper, “this is precisely why I didn’t tell Jeff.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry, Cher, really. But you have to admit, it’s a little hard to swallow. I’m just worried about you, can you blame me?”

  “Why’s she worried bout you, Mommy?” Trevor asked, coming up behind them.

  “No reason, honey. Grab your coat.”

  ~~~~

  “Call me later, okay, Cher, okay?” Cindy shouted from the doorway.

  As she backed out of the drive, she waggled her fingers at Cindy and nodded, flashing a false smile. Not that she was feeling anger toward her sister. Just disappointment. She wasn’t sure exactly what she’d been expecting. Of course Cin didn’t believe her. Who would? It wasn’t just a little hard to swallow. Hell, it would probably be easier to swallow a watermelon whole. And Cin was right about her being overstressed. And overtired.

  She studied her haggard face in the rearview mirror, the worry lines etched into her forehead, the dark bags emphasizing her dull, bloodshot eyes. She looked like a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

  Fumbling on the seat beside her, she clutched her sunglasses and shoved them on her face.

  Maybe Cin was right about telling Jeff too. She’d come mighty close to doing that very thing this morning on the drive to the airport. But, he seemed so stressed about the trip. The timing just hadn’t been right. So here she was, back to square one. Well, even worse. Now she was alone, literally.

  ~~~~

  Even though she was going on almost four nights with next to no sleep, she didn’t feel the least bit tired. In fact, just the opposite. As she lie peering up at Trevor’s oscillating ceiling fan, she felt wide awake, to the point of hearing every tiny sound with heightened clarity; Trevor’s breathing, the soft whirr of the fan, every tiny creak and groan as the house settled in for the night. And she was acutely aware of every movement, the curtains ruffling in the breeze of the fan, the ticking second hand of the owl clock by the door, Trevor’s chest rising and falling.

  As she lie on her back, her eyes darting about the room, she couldn’t remember ever feeling so completely alone. As if it was a physical manifestation, loneliness weighed heavily upon her, making every breath an effort.

  Inflating her lungs to full capacity, she let it slowly out, only to begin the whole laborious process again. She could hear her heart beating in her ears. It was a strong beat, surprisingly slow and steady considering the circumstances. It was soothing, lulling…

  Trevor sat astride his gallant stallion, leaning into the wind as they hurtled through the stormy night. The animal’s ears were pressed flat against its head and its eyes were wide, and with good reason. They were being pursued by a beast, a huge, ghastly dragon with rows of pointed spikes running the length of its serpentine back. The ground trembled with each lumbering step as it thundered after them, its angry trumpeting rivaling even that of the storm that raged. As she watched, its maw yawned wide and flames shot out, licking at the stallion’s hindquarters and igniting its tail, it flaring like a roman candle before it was quickly extinguished by the pelting rain.

  She screamed along with the stallion, watching helplessly as they barreled past, the horse with its charred stub of a tail trailing out behind it, and its rider, a small, pale-faced, fair-headed child, passing not more than ten feet away. Their pursuer was close behind, and as it passed near, she recognized it for what it really was. Wolly. Wolly the Wallower in disguise, his bright orange coat now a sooty burnt-orange, and a pair of grossly inadequate wings flopping on its back as it barreled after them on just as inadequately stubby legs.

  A huff of laughter escaped her. She couldn’t help it. Clamping a hand over her mouth only managed to mute the giggles.

  As if she’d yanked hard on giant reins, the creature came to a grinding halt and whipped around to glare at her.

  She dropped the hand from her mouth, her ears tuning in to the unnatural silence that surrounded her. The storm was no longer raging, and the Wolly dragon was no longer bellowing.

  It had vanished. A man stood in its place, his countenance obscured by darkness. Though she couldn’t see his features, she knew it was him. His long hair glistened in the wan moonlight, as did two pale eyes. And somewhere in the distance, she could hear Trevor yelling…

  “Trevor!”

  She sat up to find Trevor on Black Beauty, riding for all he was worth.

  Scrambling to her feet, she brushed the hair from her eyes. He was rocking fervently, but there was no fear on his face, merely gritty determination. “Giddy up!” he whooped as he swayed dangerously, his lips pulled back over clenched teeth. “Get ‘em! Get ‘em, boys. Head ‘em off at the creek!”

  She’d heard that before. Yes. The western he’d been watching just before bed. The posse chasing bank robbers. Yes. The Bandana Bandits. They had—

  A prickling sensation crept down the back of her neck. There was something behind her. Someone. She could feel him.

  Spinning on her heel, she threw a hand to her mouth.

  He stood by the door in dusty cowboy duds; faded blue-jeans, scuffed cowboy boots, weathered ten-gallon hat, well-worn leather chaps.

  Yanking the bandana from his face, he began to pat himself down—his arms, his chest, his face. “It worked,” he whispered, his eyes growing wide, his grin wider. “It worked!” Clenching his fists, he began to dance a jig, clogging in place, going round and round in circles.

  Stopping suddenly, he pulled his jeans out at the waist and sucked in his stomach to peer down his pants. “Oh, yes,” be breathed. “Yes! Yes! Hello, Wolly, well, hello, Wolly. It’s so nice to have you back where you beloooong.”

  He was singing. Singing and swaying.

  “No.” She closed her eyes. When
one was dreaming, their eyes needed to be closed.

  “You’re lookin’ swelled, Wolly. I can tell, Wolly. You’re still growin’… you’re still crowin’… you’re still goin’ strong.”

  She could barely hear him over the pounding of her heart.

  “And howdy to you too, little lady.” The whisper was smooth, buttery, sexy almost.

  She opened her eyes.

  He was leaning back against the wall, his feet planted firmly apart and one hand tucked into his breeches, working feverishly at his crotch.

  “Don’t mind us, beautiful,” he purred breathlessly. “We’ll be done in a jiffy with this stiffy.” He smiled widely, before contorting his face in a revolting grimace, one having no correlation to pain. Closing his eyes, he clunked his head back against the wall, moaning loudly.

  She dug her fingers into her thighs and bit down on her lip. He was trying to unnerve her. It was obvious by his grossly exaggerated moaning and groaning, and she felt somehow that it was important not to allow him to succeed.

  She knew that she was right when one eye popped open to catch her reaction.

  Standing abruptly, he slid his hand from his pants. “Oh, so sorry, little lady. Didn’t mean to leave you out. Care to watch?” And with that, he unzipped, and out popped a serpent’s head, its forked tongue flicking.

  She gasped. She couldn’t help it, and this seemed to satisfy him. He grinned broadly as the snake slithered out a good two feet, swaying back and forth, its tongue flicking in and out and its beady eyes locked on her.

  “What d’ya say, wittle wady? Wanna have a wittle willy womp with Wolly?”

  Pulling in a deep breath, she propped her hands on her hips and tried to think of something profound to say. She was disappointed when, “You’re just a dream,” was all she could muster.

  He gasped, his hand flying to his chest. “How could you say such a cruel thing, you spiteful, wicked creature!”