by S. A. Hunter
“Stop what! Why are you jumping around?”
“You bit me!”
Vicky opened her mouth to deny it, but all that came out was barking. Despite her anger and queasiness, Mary couldn’t help laughing. Vicky’s face turned red. The scene began to waver. Vicky's mouth moved as if she were yelling at her, but all that came out was louder barking. It suited her.
Mary woke up chuckling. The barking was still going on. “Chowder!” She sat up to throw something at him and felt the strangest and most awful sensation as she came up off the bed. It was like she passed through a blanket of static electricity and motor oil. She jerked back and fell off the bed. She looked up and stared into two red glowing eyes suspended in a black nebulous form. A dark translucent hand reached out to her.
“Oh my God, no!” She tried to scramble away, but her back hit the wall. She reached for her lamp, but realized that it was on the other side of the bed. She gathered her legs to dart around the Shadowman to the door, but it moved in closer to block her escape. Chowder continued to bark his head off.
Her bedroom door opened, and Gran stood there, leaning on one crutch. “What in the world is going—” her voice cut off when she saw the Shadowman. Her hand slapped the light switch by the door, and the ceiling light came on, illuminating the room. The Shadowman hissed and flew to the window. It was open a couple of inches. Mary hadn’t opened it.
Gran lurched into the room. “Mary, are you all right?”
Mary pulled herself onto the bed. She felt awful--like she needed a molten hot shower for her soul. “No, I’m not all right. That thing touched me. Oh man, it was terrible.” A cold sheen of sweat covered her body, and she felt oily, not physically but psychically. Gran laboriously lowered herself beside Mary.
“Vicky was just asking me about the Shadowman,” Mary told her.
“You were dreaming about her?”
She nodded and turned toward the window. Gran turned, too and saw it was open. She lurched over to close it and turned the lock. She stayed at the window looking outside into the quiet night.
Mary got up and looked over Gran’s shoulder through the dark window. “Where do you think it went?”
“I don’t know, dear.”
Gran’s voice sounded odd. Watery. Mary put an arm around her. “Gran, you okay?”
She nodded her head, but didn’t turn around. “I’m fine. How do you feel?”
She looked down at herself. There was no physical evidence of her contact with the Shadowman, and she didn't feel ill. Maybe she’d woken up before it’d d had a chance to feed. “Okay, I guess. Not even that cranky.”
“You should go back to sleep.”
“Gran, what’s wrong?” Chowder whined. He could tell Gran was upset, too.
Her shoulders sagged. “I’m just tired.”
“No, that’s not it. You’ve been acting weird since this began.”
Gran turned and moved to the door, but Mary pulled on her arm to stop her. “Gran, talk to me.”
She turned to look at Mary, and Gran’s face looked so sad. Had the attack upset her that much? “I’m okay, I promise. That thing gave me the wiggins, but that’s all.”
“That’s good.” But Gran’s voice betrayed the lie. Nothing was good for her.
“Gran, I’m fine. We’ll get the Shadowman. Don’t worry.” She gave her a hug, hoping it would help.
When Gran pulled away, she wiped her eyes. “I can’t help worrying, dear. That thing is awful. The thought of you getting hurt makes me sick.”
Mary had to question that statement. It didn’t mesh with what she’d said at the hospital or at Mr. White’s place. “But you’ve been gung-ho for me to get rid of the Shadowman. You had me climb into a ventilation shaft to track it and then you got upset when I didn’t find out much about it.” Gran hadn’t even seemed to care how scared she’d been through the whole ordeal, but Mary kept that comment to herself.
Gran shifted uncomfortably on her crutch. Mary instantly pulled her computer chair out and helped her sit down. Gran motioned for her to sit on the bed. “First, I should apologize for how I acted at the hospital. I did push you too hard. I shouldn’t have forced you to go after it.”
“You didn’t exactly force me,” she said, though she definitely wouldn't have gone in if Gran hadn't insisted.
Gran shook her head. “You’re a good girl. You listen to me and do what I ask all the time. I shouldn't have asked you to go after the Shadowman. When I sent you after it, I wasn't thinking straight. It did do something to me.”
“What?” She still didn’t understand what the Shadowman did. Did it eat souls? Life force? Happy thoughts? What?
Gran shrugged. “It’s hard to say. I was afraid, but also angry. Everything was bad. When I made the plan for you to stay, I’d been confident the Shadowman wouldn’t actually get to me, so the fact that it had touched me was upsetting. When you seemed reluctant to go after it, it was like you were okay with it attacking me, like it wasn’t a big deal.”
“That wasn’t it at all!” She couldn’t believe Gran had thought that.
“I know, but everything was mixed up. I was so upset. I took it out on you, and I'm sorry. From now on, if I ask you to do something that you really don't want to do, tell me no. You can say no to me. I don't always know best.”
“But…” Mary didn’t know how to argue with her on this. Gran knew better than her. It was a fact.
“No buts. I mess up, too and can make bad choices. Don’t think you have to do everything that I tell you.”
“So…when you tell me to wash the dishes, I can say no?”
Gran smirked. “If you don’t have to wash dishes, I don’t have to cook. That’ll work out perfectly, don’t you think?”
Mary smiled. Gran smiled back.
“Do you remember what you said at Zeke’s?”
Not sure what she meant, Mary hedged her answer. “Yeah, what about it?”
“You said that we have to help Vicky because no one else can. Did you ever think you wouldn’t or couldn’t help her?”
She wasn’t sure what Gran meant. “I didn’t know how I could help her, so I had to figure it out.”
“But you never thought about not helping her.”
“At first, I didn't know if it was for real.”
“But once you knew that Vicky really needed your help, you didn't think about not helping her. You even signed up to volunteer at the hospital.”
“I guess, but I would’ve rather it'd been someone else we were helping. Vicky is one of my least favorite people, but she couldn’t handle this, and I just figured I had to do something.”
Gran nodded and looked at the carpet. “Exactly. You know what’s right and will do it, no matter what. I admire that in you, and don’t want to ever tell you not to help someone. But that also means you could put yourself in danger and get hurt. I don’t want that either. I don't want to stop you, but I don't want you getting hurt. I've been struggling with this since your encounter with Ricky. How can you help others while being safe? All I could come up with is: I have to help you and give you whatever support I can. It's hard, because I still don't want you to get hurt. But I know I can’t stop you.” She sighed and shook her head. “I pushed all my fears aside at the hospital and in doing so, pushed you. I told you to do the opposite of what I wanted because I thought that you would do it anyway.”
“I wouldn't have climbed into that air duct.”
“Maybe not, but you would've followed the Shadowman down to the basement.”
Her knee jerk response was to deny it, but she held back and thought harder. She wouldn't have done it again. That was for sure. But that was because hindsight was twenty/twenty. If Gran hadn't arranged for her to hide out in the hospital and follow the Shadowman, she would've figured something else out on her own. She'd taken the volunteering job to do just that. She would've poked around and who knew what trouble she would've gotten into. At least Gran had made sure she'd had a flashlight and Chowder t
o face the Shadowman. “You're right, but I do want you to worry about me and tell me not to do stupid stuff. I need that.” She didn't know how else to say it. She wanted someone to care whether she was safe.
“You're right, and I'll start doing that again, but I don't want you to feel like you can't tell me when you're in trouble or when you're trying to help someone with something dangerous. I'll try to help, but I'm also going to fuss.”
“Fuss away. Want to now?”
“Yes, I do. That thing is horrible. I hate that you've had to meet it. I wish you hadn’t come across it. I wish I could keep you safe and now this thing has followed us home, and you’re not safe. I can’t keep you safe.”
She didn’t know what to say to Gran to reassure her, but she tried anyway. “We’ll be okay. We can sleep with the lights on. Chowder’s a good guard dog. We’ll know if it’s in the house.”
Gran nodded and got up again. “Yes, we’ll be fine.”
When Mary crawled back into bed, she pulled the blankets up to her chin but couldn’t get her eyes to close. She looked at the door and wished Gran had stayed or told her to come sleep with her in the living room. There was good reason now to be scared of the dark.
“Would you like me to sing you a lullaby?”
Max startled her, and she looked quickly around the room, though she knew she couldn’t see him.
“Gran let you out?”
“Yes, she asked me to guard you while you slept. I’m so sorry I wasn’t available before.”
“Not your fault. We were the ones that thought it’d be better to keep you sheathed. Sorry.” Actually, it had been Mary’s idea. Though Max seemed okay, the thought of him wandering around the house had made her feel uncomfortable. Having an invisible guest meant privacy was always in question, but she was okay with him now. Someone watching over her was a comfort. Being alone was the scary option. Max started crooning “Hush Little Baby.” He had a nice soft baritone. Her eyelids grew heavy.
* * *
The next morning she woke up to loud arguing that sounded like Gran and Mr. White. For an awful second, she thought she was back in the hospital, but being able to hide under her comforter quickly set her straight. She sat up with a groan and looked blearily around the room. It was morning. Very early morning. What did anyone have to argue about this early except about sleep? “Max, you here?”
“Yes, I hope you slept well.”
She shook her head as she got up. “What's going on?”
“Your grandmother called and told Mr. White about what happened last night. He insisted on coming over.”
“What for?”
Max didn't get a chance to answer. From downstairs, Gran called up. “Mary, could you come down, please?”
She took a quick peek at herself in the mirror. Her hair was sticking out every which way. She ran a brush through it to smooth it a little bit, so she wouldn’t look like a troll doll, but didn't bother changing out of her pajamas. It was eight o'clock on a Sunday morning. That was earlier than she usually got up on weekends, never mind on days when she’d been attacked in the middle of the night by a supernatural monster. She padded down the stairs and found Mr. White and Gran sitting in the living room.
“Morning,” she said.
“Good morning, dear. How do you feel?”
“Sleepy. What’s going on?”
“The Shadowman touched you last night?” She turned to Mr. White with a yawn.
“Or I touched it. There was touching, anyway. Very unpleasant. Why?”
“It may have harmed you.”
“It may have, but Chowder woke me up before it could.”
“This the dead dog?”
Chowder’s body was sitting on the coffee table. Mr. White picked it up and began examining it. Chowder began growling. Mary went over and took the body. “He doesn’t like strangers touching him.” She tucked the body under her arm, and Chowder settled down.
“I need to check you to make sure the Shadowman hasn't done any harm.”
“What about Gran? Have you checked her?”
Mr. White turned to Gran with a glare. “She won't let me.”
“Then why should I? I feel fine. I wasn't even grumpy like Gran afterwards.”
“How do you know? You could be psychically maimed right this moment.”
“Psychically maimed? Gran, seriously?”
“Maybe it would be good idea to let him look.”
“If I have to be checked, so do you.”
“I'm fine,” Gran said.
“So am I.”
“Mary.”
“You said last night that I could say no. I'm saying no.”
“What are you two worried about? I'm not slicing you open. You just need to sit still and let me do some readings.”
“What type of readings?” Mary asked.
“Just let me check your chakras.”
“Do you want to test the vision in my third eye, too?”
“The third eye is the chakra called Ajna. So yes, I will be testing it.”
Mary crossed her arms and stared at him.
Gran relented. “Fine, you can check me first.”
“Gran, we don't have to do this.”
“What could it hurt?”
“I swear you two don't know what you're trying to pass up. There were people who used to pay me to do this. They'd come from all around to get me to check them.”
“And why'd they stop?” Mary couldn't help needling Mr. White a little.
“Because of a little thing called retirement.”
“What do you need me to do?” Gran asked.
“Be quiet and sit still.”
Mr. White got up and went to the side of Gran’s chair. He closed his eyes and held his hands out over her head. He waved them slowly in the air over her. Mary didn't know what he was doing, but Gran didn't seem to find it strange. She'd closed her eyes as well and relaxed into the chair. Mr. White didn't ever touch Gran. He kept his hands several inches above her body as he passed over it. He would pause and hold his hands steady at certain spots--like over her chest and oddly, her knees--but never actually touched her.
Mary watched, not sure what was going on. The whole thing seemed vaguely ridiculous to her, but then again, they'd been supernaturally attacked. It wasn't like they could go to the doctor and get checked out. If there was something wrong with them, Mr. White may be the only one who could help them. Eventually he straightened with a creak.
“You're fine. No lingering ill effects.”
Gran opened her eyes and turned to Mary. Mr. White turned to look at her as well. She still wasn't sure about this, but it didn't look like it would do any harm to let him check her.
“Do you want me to sit down?”
“No, it's better if you're standing. I didn't make Helena stand because of her ankle. Just hold still, and I'll take a reading.”
She stood still as Mr. White came over to her. He raised his hands and slowly waved them around her head. His bushy eyebrows were drawn together, and his eyes were shut tight.
“What can you tell?” she asked. She didn't feel anything as he moved his hands around her.
“You're a healthy, young woman with a bit of psychic power,” he said. He ran his hands a few inches above her shoulders and arms. He bent at the waist and waved them through the air by her legs. He straightened and looked her in the eye.
“You're fine.”
“That's it?”
He shrugged. “What did you expect?”
“I don't know, but you spent more time on Gran's knees than on me.”
“She's got bad knees.”
“Oh, I do not,” Gran protested.
“Well, you will.”
Gran shook her head.
Mr. White picked up his hat. He was leaving? She didn't want him to leave. He may claim not to know much of anything about Shadowmen, but he was the closest thing they had to an expert. “So what do we do now?”
“If you leave the lights on and
stay vigilant, it’ll move on and not bother you anymore.”
“That’s it? Your advice is get a night light?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So? We need to stop it, not hide under the covers.”
“And have we not established that we don’t know how to stop it?”
“We can figure something out.”
“Just let it go. It probably came after you because you poked your nose into its business. Just leave it alone.”
“We can't give up,” Mary said.
Gran sighed. “We'll keep an eye on the hospital at the least and sleep with the lights on here. Meanwhile, we can keep looking for a solution.”
Mary nodded. They could do that. She could keep volunteering and make sure nothing happened. She hadn't planned on volunteering long term, but she could do it. And Gran could read her Tarot cards and maybe get a clue from them.
“You two are making a big mistake,” he muttered.
“We’ll be careful, Zeke. Don’t worry.”
“Oh, I won’t,” he said, standing and jamming his hat on his head.
“Zeke, don’t go yet. We haven't had a chance to really catch up. I'd like to hear what you've been doing with yourself.”
He shook his head. “No, I best be getting home.”
“May I say, ladies, it was a pleasure meeting you.”
The plastic sword was resting on the coffee table. Mary picked it up and held it out to Mr. White. “Thanks for loaning us Max.”
“Oh, I think he should stay.”
“Stay? But surely--”
“Are you sure?”
“Just in case the Shadowman does come back.”
“Having him here would make me feel better,” Gran said.
“Is that okay with you, Max?” Mary asked, since he'd seemed ready to go.
“I-I suppose. If you ladies are willing to put up with me for a few more days, I'll be happy to stay. Hopefully my assistance won't be needed.”
“I'll let myself out. Helena, call me if there are any new developments.”
“Of course, Zeke. Thank you.”
Once Mr. White left, Mary sat on the sofa and looked over at Gran. “So, what now?”
She shrugged. “The TV works.”