Beasthunter

by Katharina Gerlach

  All the time, Mr. Jake had gone on humming. More and more fog gathered atop the book. When no new whiffs came through the door and windows, he nodded to me.

  “Animus reverto.” His voice was quiet, but it vibrated through the whole room.

  The column of fog shivered and sank in on itself. It thickened and took the form of a human in a dress, gaining earth and skin colors the denser it became. A few seconds later, the monk stumbled forward and fell right into my arms, more solid than I had expected. I staggered a little, but I managed to hold him until Mr. Jake scooped him up in his arms. He grunted with the effort.

  “I don't think he's a ghost anymore, but I wonder how we did that.” He pushed the monk up and over his shoulder. “We'd better take him to bed upstairs. Will you please bring his journal?”

  I nodded, picked it up, and followed them to an upstairs bedroom. I put the manuscript on the nightstand, and watched as Mr. Jake laid the monk on the bed. He didn't undress him before he put a cover over him. I shuddered. The hem of the monk's dress was caked in dirt and so were his sandals. A ring of brown hair circled his head, but downy hair grew on the bald bits.

  “He must have traveled for quite a while,” Mr. Jake said. “Let him rest. We can talk to him tomorrow.”

  “He's so dirty,” I said.

  “And he has lice, flees and some other bugs most likely. But I can wash the sheets any time, and I don't want to wake him just now.” Mr. Jake took my hand, and we left the room. I yawned.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sally: Here and Now

  Dusk settled and the street lights came on. Sally was glad they were on their way back to their little room. Her heart ached too much to go on. Only Tom's fingers in hers stopped her from following the strange pull that had tugged at her ever since they left the house. With his free hand, Tom waved to his friend Mike on the other side of the road. Sally pressed his fingers harder. “Will he be like the others?”

  Tom shrugged. “Probably.”

  Mike came over. “I just picked up my costume.” He didn't seem to notice Sally. With a proud smile, he opened the bag he carried and let Tom peek inside. An eerie monster mask stared back at Tom, but he didn't even flinch. Sally's chest expanded. He had learned so much.

  Mike asked, “What will you wear?”

  “I don't know yet.”

  Mike's eyes widened. “But it's Halloween tomorrow.”

  “Mamá is sewing it herself and she always makes such a secret of it. But I bet it'll be as good as last year.”

  Sally gaped at Tom. Did he really just lie? He'd never done that before—or had he? With her unreliable memory, she couldn't say.

  “You look healthy enough to me.” Mike eyed him up and down. “When are you coming back to school?”

  “Next week.”

  Sally wondered if his mother was truly sewing a costume for him.

  Mike's mother and his three-year-old sister Lizzi crossed the street. Lizzi's face lit up, and her small mouth opened wide when she saw Sally. She half hid behind her mother. Sally watched Tom, Mike, and his mother, until the little girl's finger poked her side. With each poke, a tingle went up Sally's spine. She hated it, but Lizzi looked as if she could go on forever.

  “Stop it,” Sally growled, and her face contorted until she looked like a wild wolf. Tom's finger squeezed hers harder. For his sake, she fought her anger.

  Lizzi giggled and poked Sally again. Sally would have loved to poke her back, but Tom pulled her back before she could.

  “I think I should go home. Mamá will be waiting.” Tom dragged Sally along.

  Lizzi tried to run after them, but her mother caught her hand. When she pulled the little girl in the opposite direction, she began to wail. “Ghosty! I want ghosty.”

  Tom walked faster. When they passed a house that most neighbors called the animal farm, a ruckus broke out. Cats arched their backs and hissed, and several dogs stood at the fence with their hackles raised.

  Sally snarled back, and four of the dogs ran with their tails tucked between their legs.

  “It's so unfair,” Sally said. “I feel like having fun with people but the only ones who can see me are animals and toddlers.”

  “It's the day before Halloween. No one takes notice of ghosts, ghouls, or monsters today.” Tom pulled at her hand, but Sally refused to go faster.

  She stopped and cocked her head. “What is Halloween?”

  Tom explained as best he could while pulling her closer to Mr. Jake's house with every word. They had nearly reached the gate in the fence when something black rushed them. It pulled at Sally's last memory. She pressed her lips together and held on. Never ever would she give up Tom.

  Her brother screamed and she wanted to help him. Instead, he pushed her toward the gate and held out a smooth black stone. The Beast yelped and drew back. Tom used the break in its attack to urge Sally through the gate into the safety of Mr. Jake's garden. It was over before Sally could do anything.

  Panting, Tom closed the gate behind them. “I need to get this story done. We've only got one more day.”

  Tom: Diary

  “I guess we should get you to bed too.” He led me to the room Sally and I had used before. In a short time, he turned the sofa into a bed and tucked me in. He even sang me a lullaby as if I were a baby. I would never admit it to anyone, but secretly I enjoyed it. When he left, my heart ached. Through the window, I could see light in Mamá's kitchen. Back home, I'd hear her busy clattering. I wished I could sleep in my own room with all my cuddly toys and the familiar smells and noises around me. I fought back tears.

  “Sally?” I whispered, hoping she would hear me.

  “I'm here, Tom.” Her ghost emerged from the locket and set down at the foot of my bed. It glowed in the dark. I should have been scared stiff, but instead I felt loved and protected. I relaxed.

  “Just sleep, Tom. I'll watch over you,” she said. “I'm still your sister.”

  I slept better than I had thought I would, and Mr. Jake surprised me with a delicious breakfast with pancakes, fried eggs, and peanut butter sandwiches. Sally hovered beside my elbow watching every morsel I put into my mouth.

  “We'd better get some of your stuff over to this house today,” he said. “Like some fresh clothes and pajamas. And I should strengthen my spell on your parents as well.”

  I swallowed to empty my mouth. “Mr. Jake? How long will I have to stay?”

  “I don't know. Usually the Beast leaves a few days after it sucks up its victim. I've never stayed in one place for long.” He poured himself some more coffee and drank. “But I fear this stay will be much longer than I anticipated. First, the Beast hasn't been able to get all of your sister, and second, it lost the monk. I wonder why it swallowed a grown-up. It never did when I hunted it.”

  Suddenly I lost my appetite. I pushed the plate away.

  “Shall we go now?” Mr. Jake's face held an expression I couldn't quite place. Was it sympathy or sorrow or something else entirely?

  I told Sally to watch the monk and followed Snoop and Mr. Jake out of the house, over the road to my parents' house. Before we reached the door, a black tiger jumped us and sank his teeth into Mr. Jake's thigh. The Beast Hunter didn't scream but sank to the ground with a moan. I stumbled backwards with wobbly knees. Snoop grabbed the Beast's throat and pulled with all his might. My stone, where was my stone?

  My fingers fumbled around in the pockets of my jeans first, and then in my jacket's pockets. There it was. Why did things always have to be in the last place you look? I pulled it out and held it so the Beast could see it. I wanted to go forward but my legs refused to obey. But Snoop had seen me too. He dragged the Beast toward me. A few steps from me, it let go of Mr. Jake with an angry yell and left in a hurry, followed by Snoop. Mr. Jake moaned again. Blood welled from the wound and dropped on the ground. I helped him up when the door to our house opened and Mamá came out.

  “Oh dear, what happened?” She helped me to move Mr. Jake into the kitchen.
<
br />   “I was careless.” Mr. Jake's voice came in slow bursts. “Sorry to cause you trouble.”

  Mamá looked at him for a long time. Then she sighed. “I know something is wrong but I cannot put my finger on it, Jake. I know Tom is safe with you but I've got a feeling as if a part of me is missing, as if I should care about someone else other than my husband and my son.” Her voice trailed off.

  Mr. Jake smiled, but I could see it didn't come easy. “Everything will be all right, Maria Carolina.”

  She smiled but her eyes stayed sad, and she didn't answer. Instead, she sent me upstairs to pack my things while she went to fetch her first aid kit. I wondered since when Mr. Jake and Mamá were on a first-name basis. When I returned, she had dressed Mr. Jake's wound and helped him into the sitting room. He rested on the sofa, his eyes closed. I looked at him for a while. His face looked haggard, and beads of sweat clung to his forehead. Mamá came in and put a tray with tea on the low table.

  “Don't worry, honey. He'll be fine in a day or two.”

  I so much wanted to believe her, but I could tell she lied by the way she pulled up her shoulders.

  “Shouldn't he see a doctor?” My voice sounded hoarse. What if I lost Mr. Jake too? How would I get Sally back without his help?

  “He didn't want to.” Mamá stroked my hair. “I put plenty of antiseptic on the wound. That should help.”

  Mr. Jake opened his eyes. “Thank you for caring, Maria Carolina,” he said. “I believe I am now ready for your tea.” He sat up but I noticed how much strength it cost him.

  Mamá filled a cup and handed it to him. “Milk? Sugar?”

  “Do you have honey?” Mr. Jake smiled, tight-lipped, and Mamá buzzed off into the kitchen.

  “I need the little black pouch of herbs that hangs beside the door in my house,” Mr. Jake said to me. “Do you think you can get it for me, Tom?”

  Without a word, I ran out of the house. Somewhere in the distance, Snoop barked. I whizzed across the street and into Mr. Jake's house. The pouch hung right where he'd said it would be. It was made of leather, stained and worn as if centuries old. I grabbed it and flew back to my home, ignoring the fight between Snoop and the Beast. I entered the sitting room just as Mamá handed Mr. Jake the jar with honey. I dropped the pouch on the table.

  “Here it is.” I had difficulty speaking and catching my breath at the same time. Mamá smiled but the sorrow didn't leave her face.

  Mr. Jake nodded his thanks and took a small glass vial with a blue liquid out of the pouch. He counted three drops into his tea, and put the rest back. Then he leaned back and drank the tea in small sips. I watched the strain on his face ease. When I sighed, I realized that I had been holding my breath.

  I sat down beside Mr. Jake. “Do you feel better?”

  “I do.”

  “I need to sort the laundry. Will you two be okay?” Mamá asked.

  Mr. Jake got up and bowed a little. “I am terribly sorry that I kept you from your task. You're a most generous woman. It felt like an angel had come to help me when you dressed my wound.”

  Surprised, I watched Mamá blush. She left the room with a flushed face.

  “Your mother doesn't like to be praised, methinks.” Mr. Jake seemed to have noticed my confusion. “I made her believe that I'm an old school friend of hers.” He put a hand on my shoulder, and his face hardened. “Now, help me back to my house before the fever hits me.”

  “Fever?” Suddenly the muscles in my legs felt weak, and my heart beat faster and faster.

  The hand on my shoulder grew heavy. “The medicine I drank will drive any residue of the Beast away by fever. I'll be out of my senses for at least eight hours, maybe more, and I'd like to be in my own bed for that.” Mr. Jake pushed me forward. “I need your help or I won't make it that far.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sally: Here and Now

  Sally lay on the bed, too tired to float or annoy Tom. It was even hard to open her eyes. The relentless tugging from outside made her sick.

  Tom stretched and turned to her. “I'm nearly done.” His face paled, and he closed his eyes. New energy ran though Sally's body and the tugging eased. The one memory she was sure of glowed like a candle and spread warmth. This must be his love for me. Sally smiled. When Tom opened his eyes again, she floated beside him and tried to hug him. It wasn't easy to embrace someone when her arms weren't solid enough.

  “Promise me that you'll never lose yourself like that again,” he said.

  “But it's so boring in here. And outside no one could see me.”

  “I won't need much longer.” Tom picked up his pen again. “Please, don't do anything stupid before we try the monk's plan.”

  Sally sat on the desk. “I don't remember the monk. Tell me about him.”

  Tom handed her the last pages of the manuscript. They told the story about how he found a medieval monk. Something clicked in Sally's brain. She looked up and her eyes sparkled.

  “I remember him. He was smaller than me but much older.” She sucked in her lower lip and chewed. After a while, she said, “He tried to tell me something, didn't he?”

  Tom's smile couldn't be wider. “I am so glad you remember him. Maybe the rest of your memories will come back, too.”

  Sally grinned. For a moment she felt as if she had never met the Beast, solid and real. It didn't last.

  “What else do you remember?” Tom asked

  “You couldn't understand him.” Sally giggled and pivoted through the room like a little hurricane. Some pages of Tom's manuscript fluttered. “He spoke a weird language.”

  Tom laughed with delight. Obviously Sally was able to gain new memories, if slowly.

  She stopped in mid-movement and sank to the ground. Her eyes were wide, and she stared into the distance. “There were more, weren't there?”

  Tom frowned. “More what?”

  Sally turned and looked at him. “There was a guy who called himself Mr. Jake but that wasn't his real name. He had a dog with a hundred ghosts.”

  Tom fell back into his chair. “Snoop has a hundred ghosts?” He had suspected that Mr. Jake was using a fake name, but Snoop's secret was a surprise.

  Sally nodded. “I could see them. They were the size of flees and rode on his back.”

  Tom scratched his chin. “I trust Mr. Jake and Snoop with my life—more, with your life—but this soul-business sure needs an explanation.”

  Sally cocked her head. “Shall we go right away?”

  Downstairs the doorbell rang, and a choir of childish voices echoed through the night. Halloween had begun.

  “Later.” Tom picked up his pen and wrote frantically.

  Tom: Diary

  I swallowed my fear as best I could and led Mr. Jake outside through the sitting room and the hall. Slowly we crossed the street. Beads of sweat ran over his face, and his breath came in short bursts as if we had run a mile. Snoop and Sally waited for us at the door. When we reached the stairs to the upper floor, Mr. Jake grabbed the banister and stopped. “I will need a lot to drink. Plain water would be best,” he said and began to pull himself up the stairs one step at a time.

  I ran into the kitchen to fetch a glass and a jug with water and followed him. He dropped into his bed like a felled oak, clothes and all.

  Before he closed his eyes, he rolled on his back and said, “I'll be out for half a day or more. Take care that the monk stays inside the house.”

  I nodded, feeling numb inside. How was I supposed to keep a ghost where it didn't want to be? Especially one that spoke a different language. I put the glass and the water jug on the nightstand. I'd have to find a way to make the monk listen to me. I just didn't know how. Maybe Sally could help me. I looked at Mr. Jake, who was snoring gently. His shoes had left a strain on the bedcover.

  “You should take them off. Sleeping in shoes is uncomfortable,” Sally said. “Do you think he'll get better?”

  Only now did I realize that she floated beside me. “He said so.” I busied myself
taking off Mr. Jake's shoes and blinked away my tears. I had to be strong or Sally would worry too much. We left the room, and I closed the door gently.

  When we entered the monk's room, he was standing at the window and fingering the curtains. He turned, and his eyes were wide with wonder. He said something, but I didn't understand a single word.

  Sally giggled. “No, dimwit, it's not made of an angel's hair. It's synthetic.”

  The monk said something else. It sounded like someone gargling but Sally answered.

  “Twenty-first century.”

  The monk sat down on the bed and put his hands over his face.

  It dawned on me that Sally understood the monk. How could that be? She'd never learned Greek or Latin or any other language. What the heck? I felt as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. If she understood him, I could ask all the things I wanted to know and she could translate. That would keep the monk in the house, wouldn't it?

  The monk looked at me and spoke again. Sally translated without prompting.

  “He's hungry. Does Mr. Jake have porridge?”

  I shrugged. “I'll have a look.”

  A little later, the monk sat at the table downstairs with piles of food around him. He ate with his fingers, dipping the bread into the jam like Grandma dipped cookies in her coffee. I didn't much care for his table manners, but I had too many questions to mind. Why Sally understood him, for one, or what it was like inside the Beast. I also would love to know if he had seen Sally in there somewhere. Now, which was the most important question?

  “Ask him how he got into the Beast.”

  Sally shrugged. “Sucked up like me, most likely.”

  “But he's a grown man. Mr. Jake says the Beast only takes kids.”

  “Maybe Mr. Jake doesn't know it all.”

  “Please, Sally, ask him.” I didn't want to fight her. Ghost or not, she was my sister.

  With a sigh, she did as I asked. The monk answered in his garbled language. Crumbs flew over the table, and I watched, fascinated, as Snoop ate them. Yuck. What luck I wasn't a dog.