by Amy Cross
Maisie...
“Doggy!” the woman shouts, and I freeze as I realize that they've started following me. A moment later, she whistles. “Come here, boy! Or girl! Come on!”
“That looked like someone's pet,” the man says.
“I know, right? It's totally crazy. Did you see a collar?”
“It was too quick.”
“Here boy!” the woman yells, and this time she claps her hands several times. “We're friends! We have more bacon! We just want to help you!”
I remain completely still and quiet behind the tree.
“Come on,” the man says with a sigh, “he's probably long gone by now.”
“But he looked so thin, like he's starving.”
“I'm sure he has owners.”
“What if he's a stray?”
“He clearly didn't want anything to do with us,” the man says. “Seriously, Becca, you can't save every waif and stray.”
“But he looked so thin. Do you think we should go look for him?”
“Do you have any idea how huge this forest is? I'm sure he's long gone by now. Just be thankful that you got to give him some bacon. I'm sure he's very grateful for that.” He sighs. “Now let's get going. I was thinking we'll head south and then find somewhere for the night. Maybe we'll even swing by that haunted mansion if you fancy. We could spend a night there.”
There's a pause, and I wait for any sign that they're coming closer.
“No,” the woman says finally, “I don't fancy that. Let's just get going.”
With that, I hear them both trampling away. Once their footsteps are far enough away, I dart out from behind the tree and hurry off deeper into the forest. I know I shouldn't have gone near those two people, but at the same time I can still taste the bacon and I actually feel a little stronger and more alert. Human food is so good, and I might never get another chance.
Reaching the top of a ridge, I stop for a moment. My legs are aching, which is something new that happens when I run too fast these days, so I take a few seconds to get my breath back. Then I set off again, figuring that I can try to catch something to eat before I hunker down for the night. Drops of rain are starting to fall.
Far away behind me, I can hear the couples' car engine start, but the sound quickly fades into the distance as I pick my way through the rain, heading deeper into the darkening forest.
Chapter TwentySix
And a few more years after that...
Opening my eyes, I listen in the night air for any hint of a sound. I was asleep, tucked away here in the curve of an exposed tree root, but I was woken by a faint snapping sound. I usually wake two or three times each night, and usually any sound just turns out to be a rabbit or some other creature, but I always like to make sure.
Almost shivering in the cold, I look out into the forest. Patches of moonlight catch some of the trees, but so far as I can see absolutely nothing is moving.
Maybe that snapping sound wasn't even real.
Maybe it's just something that I imagined.
Still, I wait for a little while longer, before slowly starting to close my eyes. I'm still exhausted and I need to sleep until the sun comes up, and then -
Suddenly I hear the scream.
I sit up, startled, but the scream has already gone again.
It was definitely a scream, though. It was the scream, the same one I heard several times when I was near the abandoned house. I've been away from this part of the forest for a while, but I came closer in search of squirrels and rabbits. I'm probably only three or four miles from the house now, and sure enough it seems the scream still rings out from time to time. I certainly won't be going any closer, and as I close my eyes I'm already thinking about heading back the way I came once I set out in the morning.
I don't want to know anything about the scream. I just want to leave it well alone.
***
The forest floor is damp this morning, thanks to the spots of rain yesterday evening. As the first rays of sunlight break between the trees, I make my way along the top of a ridge, while sniffing the air in case I pick up the tell-tale scent of something that might be food. There are rabbits in this part of the forest, and although a rabbit can be a tough catch, the meat can last me a good couple of days.
I'm so hungry I -
Stopping suddenly, I listen to a very faint, very distant humming sound. There's something moving within a few miles of here, something that sounds a lot like a car. In fact, yes, it is a car, which is something I've only heard once or twice since I've been living out here alone.
I wait, and for the next few minutes I hear the sound getting very slightly closer until suddenly it stops. I suppose someone must be out here somewhere, which only confirms my plan to head in the complete opposite direction. I turn to head down the ridge, but at that moment my rear right leg buckles and I slip. I manage to scramble back to my feet, but that's the second time my leg has done that in the past two days. I look around, to make sure that nothing spotted my latest moment of weakness, and then I set off down the ridge again.
I know which way to go. I'll steer well clear of the abandoned house and I'll head toward the river.
***
There's a bird high up in one of these trees, but I don't think it's dangerous. Still, as I make my way through the forest, I can't help looking up toward the tops of the trees, watching for any sign of a threat. And then, just as I'm starting to feel confident, my rear right leg buckles again and I stumble.
Stopping for a moment, I look around, worried that something might notice my weakness.
I wait, but the forest is still and silent.
Just as I'm about to set off again, however, I notice a familiar scent in the air. It's faint, so faint that I hadn't even noticed before, but now as I lick my nose and tilt my head slightly I realize I'm picking up a subtle hint of...
Someone.
Someone I know.
I wait, convinced that I must be wrong. After all, the scent is similar to the one that I remember, but there are also some other scents that are getting in the way. Still, the similarity is strong enough that I take a few steps in that direction, wetting my nose again and again as I try to get a better sense of what's happening. I keep expecting the scent to fade, for it to be another dream, but if anything the scent actually seems to be getting a little stronger.
Just like in my dreams.
I know this must be a mistake, but that doesn't stop me changing direction and hurrying between the trees. My heart is pounding, and now the scent is really starting to become clear.
Maisie.
I can smell Maisie.
I don't know how or why, but Maisie's somewhere nearby. I start running, slipping through the forest as fast as I can manage, following the scent and not even paying attention to exactly where I'm going. All I can think about is the fact that Maisie's scent has returned for the first time in years and years, and I can't escape a growing sense of excitement as I run faster and faster. And then, finally, I get to the edge of the treeline and I feel a shudder in my chest as soon as I spot the old abandoned house. I haven't been here for years, although I've occasionally heard the scream ringing out in the distance, but now...
Now there's a car outside the house.
I tilt my head slightly, watching as the door of the little red car opens and a figure steps out. Now the scent of Maisie is stronger than ever, except...
That's not Maisie.
Even from behind, as she steps toward the house, I can tell that this girl isn't Maisie. She's too tall, for one thing, and she's wearing different clothes. She's wearing the kind of clothes Linda used to wear, not the kind of dresses that Maisie liked. Yet as the figure walks across the yard and approaches the bottom of the steps, it's Maisie's scent that seems to be filling the yard.
I don't understand.
Stepping out from the treeline, I start making my way cautiously across the yard as the figure, in turn, walks up the steps. When she reaches the top, she
hesitates for a moment, and then I hear the sound of keys jangling.
I reach the side of the car and stop, watching from what seems to be a safe enough distance. I still feel as if I'm being watched, as if the air all around me is warning me to turn and run, but I can't help watching the figure as it remains at the top of the steps. The person seems to be simply staring at the house's closed front door, although after a moment she starts to turn.
I duck out of sight, behind the back of the car, and then I the figure coming back down the steps.
Looking under the car, I see a pair of feet walking around to the car's side and then stopping, and I realize I can hear a faint, stifled muttering sound.
The smell of Maisie is intense, all-consuming, but the figure can't be Maisie.
Maisie's short.
Maisie's just a child, and this figure is older.
I wait, before stepping a little further around the car, to keep my distance.
“Is someone there?” a girl's voice calls out suddenly, sounding cautious and nervous.
I freeze, too terrified to move. Then, looking under the car, I see the feet coming around this way, so I hurry around to the front of the car so that I won't be seen.
I should make a break for the forest, but with my unreliable leg I'm worried I might stumble and get caught.
At the same time, the hairs on the back of my neck are starting to stand up and I feel a strong urge to run. It's as if every instinct in my body is telling me to get out of here, so finally I look toward the trees as I realize that I have to take the chance. I can't afford to get caught, so I hesitate for a moment before darting out from the safety of the car and racing across the yard, running as fast as I can manage.
“Hugo!” the girl shouts. “Stop!”
As soon as I hear that name, I scramble to a halt and turn, looking back.
And that's when I see her face.
Yes, she's taller than she was, and a little thinner too. And yes, her clothes are different. But as soon as I see her eyes, I know that somehow it actually is her.
“Hugo?” Maisie says, taking a cautious step toward me with a set of keys still jangling in her right hand. “Hugo, is that you?”
Chapter TwentySeven
“They told me you were dead!” Maisie splutters with a laugh, as I stand on her lap and lick her face again. “Hugo, I'm so sorry, they told me they hit you with the car as we drove off!”
I start licking her left cheek. She's been away from me for so long, she's completely lost my scent, so I have to make her smell like me so that she'll know to never leave again. We're in the car, on one of the seats, and I'm standing with my back legs on her lap and my front legs on her chest as I lick her furiously. I can feel my tail wagging against the side of the car's door, but that doesn't matter right now.
She's back.
Maisie came back for me.
“I love you too,” she says, turning first one way and then the other as I try to lick her mouth. “Hey Hugo, I love you, don't worry. You don't need to lick me to death.”
She puts her hands on my chest and gently eases me away. I try to lick her face again, but now she's holding me just far enough away as she stares at me.
“I can't believe it's really you,” she says, with a hint of awe in her voice. “You look so much older, Hugo. Then again, I suppose I do too. Five years, huh?”
She pauses, and suddenly I see tears welling in her eyes.
“I never would have left you behind,” she continues, starting to sob now as her bottom lip wobbles. “Mum and Dad told me they ran you over with the car by accident. They said we couldn't come back and get you, to bury you, but they said they saw you...”
Her voice trails off, then suddenly she pulls me closer and hugs me tight.
“I'm so sorry,” she sobs. “When I came back, I thought I'd find your body. I was going to give you a proper burial. I even made a little headstone for you and everything, but you're alive! Hugo, you're alive! I missed you so much!” She nuzzles her face against mine, and I feel her tears in my fur, and then she pulls back again.
She smiles, but then slowly her gaze moves over toward the yard.
She's looking at the house, and her smile is starting to fade.
Trying to make her happy again, I lean forward and lick her face, but this time she doesn't really respond. She seems mesmerized by the sight of the house, and finally I let out a faint grumble in a last-ditch effort to get her attention.
“Before you showed up,” she says after a moment, “I was sitting here for a few hours. I arrived a while ago, but I couldn't bring myself to actually get out of the car. Even when I did, I only got as far as the top of the steps before...”
Her voice trails off.
Finally, she turns to me again.
“I turned sixteen last week,” she continues. “Cool, huh? Well, kind of. That meant I could get on the road. Well, not technically legally, but it's fine, I'm a good driver. I just need to make sure no policemen stop me, or I'd get into trouble, but the thing is...”
Again, she pauses, and I can sense her sadness.
“Mum and Dad died,” she says suddenly. “About a year ago. I bet you're surprised they were even still together, huh? Well, they were. They always argued, and they drank a lot more over the past few years, but they were too stubborn to call it quits. Dad made some money from his online business, so I think they just bought a new house and decided not to even think about this one anymore. But then last January they went out to some party, and on the way home they ran off the road and hit a tree. Dad's blood-alcohol level was, like, through the roof. So was Mum's. It was Dad who was driving. They were probably arguing in the car and...”
Reaching into her pocket, she takes out a wallet and then opens it to reveal – among other things – a square piece of paper showing Michael and Linda's smiling faces. I've seen pictures of people like this before, although I don't understand how they work.
“In happier times,” Maisie says, sounding sadder than ever as she sniffs back more tears. “Why couldn't they just have been normal parents? Why couldn't they have got their acts together? They didn't even live long enough to see me rebel and smoke my first cigarette.”
She falls silent for a moment, before sighing and wiping her eyes.
“I swore that I'd come back here,” she continues, as she closes the wallet and slips it back into her pocket. “I swore that when I turned sixteen, I'd come out here and face the house again. Mum and Dad were terrified of it, they refused to ever talk about what happened that night. To be honest, I only remember little fragments. I asked them over and over, but they just said there was nothing to talk about. I didn't even remember where the house was, not properly, not until I started going through their stuff. I know I should just forget about it all, but I still have these nightmares and these flashes of...”
I wait for her to continue, but finally I realize she seems to have stopped. Leaning closer, I start licking her hand.
“We should get out of here,” she says suddenly, moving me over to the other seat and putting the keys in the ignition. “I've got you back, Hugo. That's more than enough. There's no need to go rooting around in some dumb old house.”
She starts the engine and backs the car up, before starting to drive around the yard and swing back toward the driveway. And then, just as suddenly, she brings the car to a halt and switches the engine off, and she stares straight ahead.
Letting out a faint whimper, I place a paw on her arm.
I want to go.
“What's that?” she whispers, before opening the car's door and climbing out.
I can't see over the dashboard, so I jump onto the other seat and then I leap onto the ground just in time to see that Maisie has walked over to the old bones that I dug up all those years ago. She crouches down and takes a closer look, and then she turns to me.
“I don't remember anything about these,” she says cautiously. “Hugo, am I really that bad at remembering? Did we kno
w about these at the time, or did you dig them up after?”
I whimper slightly.
We were about to get out of here.
Why can't we just get back into the car and drive away forever?
Reaching down, Maisie picks up the skull and holds it in her hands for a moment.
“This is totally creepy,” she continues. “I'd remember this, I'm sure I would. I mean, an actual human skull? Where did this even come from?”
She looks down at the skull for a moment longer, and it's clear that she's lost in thought.
“Who did it belong to?” she whispers. “What the hell has been going on at this place?”
After setting the skull down, she gets to her feet and turns to me.
“We'll bury her,” she says. “Or him. Whoever it was. We'll give them a proper burial before we leave. I know it's not much, it probably doesn't even make a difference, but at least it's something.”
She pauses, before looking past me toward the house. And then, slowly, she looks down at her keys.
“I've got to do it,” she continues. “I've got to go in there. If I don't, I'll never be able to stop thinking about it. I swear, Hugo, I think about this house every single day. About the few things I remember.” She reaches up and touches the side of her face for a moment. “I can't spend the rest of my life knowing that I'm a coward. I mean, it's just a house, right? It's just a faded, rundown old house, and probably none of that crazy stuff ever even happened. I was just a little girl, I bet I let my imagination go nuts.”
I step closer and paw at her foot.
“It's okay,” she says, reaching down and patting the top of my head. “You can wait outside if you like, at least for now. I've got this kinda plan, Hugo, and it involves being brave.”
She strokes my flank, before stepping past me and heading toward the house.
I bark, to warn her that she shouldn't go near the place.
“Relax,” she says, forcing a smile as she glances back at me. “Like I told you, you don't have to come with me. Just wait out here.”