by Eve Langlais
My cat continued to stare. Hopefully his presence would counter any rodents eyeballing us.
I unlocked the car and opened the rear door. The cage went on a seat, and I buckled it into place. Before I could get in on the driver’s side, something clattered, the metallic ring of a metal lid hitting the ground and wobbling before it stopped.
My heart stopped. It was nothing. Probably a rodent looking for dinner. More scared of me than anything.
The driver door opened at my tug just as the temperature plummeted. What was it with this town and its sudden dips into below zero Celsius? My breath frosted as I shoved myself into the car. I slammed the door shut, meaning the interior light turned off just as the single light bulb in the alley, bolted about ten feet up under a rusted shade, went dark.
No big deal. No reason to freak out.
My right hand reached for the ignition to shove in the key while my left ran along the door’s edge looking for the lock. I pushed it down. It didn’t do a thing to protect me from the deep chill or fear. I turned the key and heard only a click. I flipped it back and forth. Click. Click. As if the battery were dead. But I’d just seen the dome light come on.
“Seriously! Why couldn’t this happen in the driveway at home?” Why here, when I was by myself, remembering every stupid horror movie I’d ever watched. I saw nothing in the alley, and somehow that made it worse. What lurked in the shadows? Was it hungry?
If asked, I couldn’t have actually explained what scared me so much. It was a combination of things. The lack of light. My growling cat. The cold that went to the core of me.
Click. Click. I slammed the steering wheel as the damned car refused to start. My own fault for trusting a car with a super old battery. I’d probably been lucky to get a few runs out of it before it died. I’d need a tow, or a boost.
Forget calling a stranger this time. I knew just the guy to contact.
Darryl. A handy guy like him. He’d be able to help. I rummaged in my bag for my phone. Pulled it out and muttered even harder. “Gods darned gosh gee dammit.” Yeah, I was getting pretty heated. But who could blame me? The bloody thing was dead, too.
“I’d have no luck if it wasn’t for bad luck,” I grumbled. Why did batteries hate me so much? At least I could fix the phone. I’d have to go back inside and charge it, which meant getting out of the car. I wasn’t keen on that idea. The car at least provided a metal shield against whatever bogeyman lurked in the shadows. Yet I didn’t have a choice. I would accomplish nothing sitting in a dead car. Especially with the cold that deepened enough to frost my windows.
I could see the headline now. Shop Owner Found Frozen to Death in Her Car, Mere Feet from the Warm Shop She Failed to Open.
“I’m being crazy,” I muttered. There was nothing out there. Just my imagination in overdrive.
I felt for the lock and yanked it then heaved the handle, opening the door and spilling out. The dome light remained dark.
“Why did I trust an ancient car?” I said to the sky.
For a reply, my cat let out a god-awful sound.
“Hold on, I’m coming.” It took more fumbling to get him out. Grisou didn’t help matters by hissing and pacing in the cage.
During this time, my vision adjusted to the darkness enough I could make out vague shapes. It wasn’t enough to keep me from running into the wall.
“My luck keeps getting better and better,” I grumbled. Could have been worse. I could have hit it with my face.
I felt along the brick wall until my fingers met the edge of the metal door. I slid the hand holding the keys up, seeking the lock. Found it easily enough, now to figure out which key was the correct one in the almost absolute dark. Fun.
Scratch. I froze, not because of the cold but because I didn’t make the noise. Grisou didn’t make the noise. Something else toward my left did. A quick glance showed two gleaming eyes peering at me. Silver with a hint of orange.
An animal? Had to be because those eyes weren’t human.
Grisou went quiet. I, on the other hand, made a ton of noise jingling my keychain, looking for the right one with a single hand since the other held the cage. I shook with fear and had to set it down to properly sort and insert the correct key into the lock. It jammed, and I shoved at it, grunting with frustration.
Grisou made a noise that almost sounded like hurry up. I glanced down at him and then back to the eyes.
More than two now. At least five sets. Some high off the ground, some low. I might have assumed they were perched on the dumpster, except wasn’t the dumpster on the other side of me?
I didn’t like this one bit. I finally managed to unlock the door. The moment it opened, I shoved the cage through and then stupidly looked again.
The eyes were close enough I could have sworn they illuminated craggy visages. Features made of stone and lichen, with dark, gaping maws showing stubby, jagged teeth.
Impossible. The shadows played tricks. Still…I threw myself inside and slammed the door shut. Locked it and leaned against it.
Foolishly, I expected to feel thumping. Maybe even hear a knock.
Nothing happened, and I was about to relax when something rubbed against my leg.
A good thing I’d used the bathroom not long ago because I would have peed myself when I screamed.
“Meow?”
The damned cat had once more escaped his cage, and I giggled, somewhat hysterically, before sliding to sit on the floor. Why did I keep scaring myself like this?
I blamed Trish and her stories. Grandma, too. I knew the things they said weren’t real, and yet my imagination knew how to go into overdrive. For example, Trish kept insisting we had an orc problem. The ones I’d seen in movies were big hulking things with ugly visages, just like I’d imagined in the alley.
Orcs weren’t real, though. Meaning whatever I thought I saw had a scientific explanation. Although I wouldn’t hazard a guess as to what I’d seen. I’d just wait for the things to leave. In the meantime, I headed for the front room where I knew there was a comfy chair sitting by a plug. I flipped on a switch as I went, almost sighing in relief as bright light filled the space. I’d half expected it to remain dark.
“Nothing to be scared of,” I chanted. I said it a few times just because it helped.
Grisou ran ahead and disappeared amongst the antiques. I plopped into the chair and leaned over to grab the cord already plugged into the space. My phone showed a charging lightning bolt, but it took a few seconds before I could hit the power-on button. A few more seconds before the menu loaded and I could make a call.
Darryl was in my contacts. Not a big list of people thus far, but it was growing.
It rang once and then was answered.
“Hey, Naomi. How’s it going?”
“Not so good,” I admitted. “I think my car battery is dead, and I’m stuck at the shop.”
“I’ll be right over.” No hesitation.
“Are you sure?” It was what I’d hoped for when I called, but it felt kind of brazen at the same time reaching out to him like this. I could have tried Winnie or Trish first. Surely one of them had booster cables.
“No problem.”
“Awesome, I—”
The lights went out.
“Oh shit,” I muttered.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Before I could reply, my phone, not yet charged more than a percent, died. The line cut off, and in that ensuing silence, I heard a click and the creak of a door opening.
8
My bladder constricted, and I peed myself a bit. I don’t think there any amount of Kegels would have stopped me.
Standing from my chair didn’t make me feel braver, but if something was inside the store, I wanted to face it on my feet. The air in the shop went from pleasant to freezing as the cold from outside infiltrated. It wasn’t as dark as the alley. The streetlamp on the sidewalk provided some illumination through the window, but it wasn’t enough to dispel shadows.
I retreated
, taking slow steps away from the back door. It seemed safer toward the light and the door that would let me escape onto the street. Surely nothing would follow me there.
As I stared at the wall of darkness, I half expected to see the shining eyes from the alley. Nothing appeared. Nothing but a deepening darkness and a certainty I wasn’t alone.
A low growl rumbled from my left, but I welcomed the sound. Brave kitty. Grisou possessed the heart and courage of a lion. But when it came to size, a big rat could eat him.
“Grisou, no!” A dog might have listened. A cat? A cat did whatever it liked.
Grisou galloped across the floor, funny how he sounded as big as an elephant in that moment. I might want to look into the stability of the shop’s structure because it seemed odd how everything shook as if he were heavy enough to make the floor tremble.
My cat’s next cry was more of a roar than a growl. He sounded intimidating in the dark and nothing at all like my sweet, cuddly kitty. Goosebumps rose on my arms, and I would have sworn I could see my breath. The heating system must have died when the power did.
The cold intensified.
“Rawr-nn.” My feline made an awful sound, and there was a hiss, followed by a thump. What did he battle? A rat? Something worse? What if it were a raccoon? Didn’t those things carry rabies?
Poor Grisou might be outnumbered. I needed to find a weapon and help my kitty. I sifted through my recollection of what was in the room that might act as a good whacking stick. I could think of nothing.
“Grawr.” My pet let out a noise, and something uttered a guttural squeak.
“Leave him alone!” Because words would surely help. I was so useless. I grabbed a candlestick and took a step toward the storage room. I had to help. Although, with my luck, I was more likely to brain my pet than save him.
Thump. Bang. “Grawk!”
Silence fell.
And from the wall of darkness, a pair of glowing eyes appeared. Silvery like my cat, but glowing, and about six feet off the ground.
What the heck was that? I retreated until my butt hit the door, and my fingers sought the knob, only to belatedly remember it was locked. I’d have to put my back to the eyes to open it.
Quickly.
Turning, I reached for the deadbolt and twisted. Then I grabbed the knob and went to open the door, only to scream as the glass rattled. Something knocked on it, and I couldn’t see who—or what—because I’d pulled the blind.
I stepped away from the door. And froze. Eyes behind me, someone in the front.
Creak. The handle on the door turned. Squeak. A floorboard compressed at my rear.
I couldn’t help but cast a frightened glance over my shoulder. Where had the eyes gone?
Ding-a-ling, the cheerful bell sang as the door swung open.
Oh shit. I whipped to face forward again and saw a big looming shape.
I didn’t just scream. I reeled and managed to trip over my own two feet.
9
I hit the floor and scrabbled to my feet, expecting to get killed at any moment when I heard a tentative, “Naomi?”
The relief at hearing an actual voice, and one I knew, almost brought a sob to my lips. “Jace, thank goodness it’s you. You have to help me.”
“What happened to your lights?”
“Forget the lights. There’s some kind of giant rat in the back.”
“A what?”
“A rat, I think, a big one. And my cat, Grisou, went after it. You have to do something.” I pulled on his arm, my fear disappearing at his appearance. I was probably setting the feminist cause back a dozen years, standing behind a big strong man. I really didn’t care.
“Why is it so cold? Fuck.” The expletive left his lips, and then he darted away from me, deeper into the shop, heading for the back where the sound of battle had ceased.
“Grisou?” I said tentatively. What did the silence mean? Where would I find a vet this time of night if my poor kitty was injured?
The lights flickered and came back on. The shadows vanished, and my shop became once more just my shop. Jace emerged from the back with my cat in his arms and dangling partially from Grisou’s mouth, a mouse.
“Gross!”
“So much for the giant rat, eh?” Jace taunted.
“It seemed a lot bigger in the dark, and I swear, it had friends.” I felt more than foolish now.
“They’ll think twice about attacking now, I bet. Good little hunter you’ve got,” Jace said, petting my cat, who didn’t look too impressed.
“I didn’t even know he could do that.” Then again, didn’t felines have an instinctive hunting sense? Whereas I had an overactive imagination.
“Cats are predators by nature and are especially keen when it comes to protecting their territory.”
“Meaning I should bring him with me more often.”
“Him or someone else to protect you.”
Was that supposed to be a dig? “I’m sorry I panicked. It’s just the power went out and I heard some noise. And this after I thought I saw something in the alley.”
“Maybe you should rethink working by yourself at night if you’re going to scare yourself.”
“I was fine until I lost the lights,” I grumbled. “How did you fix them?”
“Just flipped the breaker. Given we didn’t have a storm, and you have nothing big plugged in, you might want to get an electrician in to check and make sure there is no issue.”
“It’s the first time I’ve had a problem.”
“Better to handle it early before it becomes a major problem. Bad electrical can start fires.”
The very idea had me hugging myself.
He mistook it for being cold. “While you’re at it, you should also call a heating professional to tune your furnace. And invest in some caulking. Winter is coming, and you wouldn’t want to freeze or have to pay an exorbitant bill.”
All kinds of things I’d never thought of. Just more proof I had no idea what I was doing.
My cat squirmed and demanded to be put down. Jace set him on the floor, and Grisou spat the mouse at his feet before going into a grooming rampage.
The bells on the door jangled, startling me. I whirled as Darryl entered, his expression going from concerned with his exclaimed, “Naomi, are you okay?” to an annoyed, “Sorry to interrupt. I didn’t realize you were busy.”
Was that jealousy in his tone? Over me?
It might have made my smile a tad wider than necessary. “Darryl! Thanks for coming so quick. Jace was just leaving.”
“As a matter of fact, I was. But I assume you want me to dispose of that first?” he asked, pointing to the mouse at his feet.
Since the alternative was touching it myself, my answer emerged as a vehement, “Yes!”
“Don’t worry about it. Get going. I’ll handle it,” Darryl offered.
“I don’t care who does what, just get it out of my store.” I kept hugging myself and grimaced as Jace pulled a handkerchief from his pocket—which was super weird because who the heck in this day and age kept a nose rag in their pocket—and picked it up.
“Do you need me to follow you home? Just in case your car dies again?” my neighbor asked as he headed for the door with the dead body.
“I’ll make sure she gets there safe.” Darryl stood between me and Jace, blocking our line of sight.
“It’s out of your way,” Jace pointed out.
“I don’t mind.” Spoken with a tuck of his thumbs in his jean loops.
“It’s a waste of gas, especially given what’s happening with our climate.” Jace wasn’t giving up.
“Those twenty clicks ain’t gonna make a difference.” Darryl was pretty much toe to toe with Jace.
It fascinated me to see this male posturing between them. With me as the prize. I don’t think anything like that had ever happened to me before, and it made little sense. How did a woman my age go from a husband who despised everything I’d become to end up with two males ready to throw down over
me? The logic escaped me, but one thing became clear; I’d have to step in before they brawled.
“Thanks for fixing the lights,” I said to Jace. “Good night.” Holy crap, I’d chosen between them.
And Darryl knew it by the smug smile tugging his lips.
“Hmmph.” Jace’s last comment before he walked out.
I didn’t wince as the door slammed shut and the bells jingled. His anger seemed misplaced.
As for Darryl, despite being chosen, he played the part of jealous beau and said, “Did you call him, too?”
I shook my head. “No. He just kind of showed up right after I hung up with you.”
“Sure, he did.” Darryl didn’t outright accuse him of anything, but the implication was there.
It raised a valid question. Why had Jace been on the sidewalk this time of night? It wasn’t as if there was anything else in the vicinity. The bookstore across the street closed at seven. There was nothing open on either side. Just me.
It was the night my car caught fire all over again. Jace coming to my rescue and yet not having a satisfactory explanation for being in the right place at the right time.
At least I knew why Darryl appeared. He’d raced to my rescue.
“Thanks for coming,” I said.
“As if I wouldn’t. You sounded frightened on the phone.”
“Just my overactive imagination.” I uttered a false laugh. The reminder of the terror brought attention to the fact that, while warm and contained in a panty liner, I’d slightly peed myself. And talking to Darryl, I really hoped he couldn’t smell it. “Can you give me a second?”
I ran for the rear of the store, more worried about Darryl realizing I had a wee problem than the fact there might be more mice. I flicked on the light before closing myself into the small bathroom where I kept a stash of panty liners. Ever since I’d begun leaking, I’d started wearing them. It saved me the embarrassment of accidentally soaking the crotch of my pants. Once in the supermarket when I sneezed was enough.