Jagger

by Kristopher Rufty

  Probably started with Nick. She’d trusted him. Trusted Teresa, too. And they’d fooled around behind Amy’s back. If her longtime boyfriend and best friend of so many years could betray her, she’d begun to think everybody would. Given the opportunity, anybody would stab her in the back.

  But not Jagger.

  She’d always known where his loyalty was. With her. And hers was with him.

  He’s probably so mad at me.

  She hoped Jagger somehow understood that this wasn’t her fault.

  I’ll never know. They’ll have put him to sleep before I get the chance to tell him how sorry I am.

  Fighting back more tears, Amy went inside the house. She checked the time on the wall clock and saw it was past nine. Ellie had promised to bring breakfast this morning. Hadn’t she? Amy thought she remembered that. They were going to eat breakfast, then go get Amy’s Jeep out of impound.

  Ellie was late.

  After a long night with Jim, she’s probably running behind.

  The idea that Ellie was having sex with Jim last night threatened to make her throw up again. She resisted the disturbing images of their lurid night from manifesting.

  Maybe she should walk over to Ellie’s. If Amy showed up, it might get Ellie moving quicker. She wanted to get her Jeep. Being without it felt weird, on top of everything else.

  Trapped.

  Ellie had said that last night.

  Amy headed for her bedroom. If Ellie hadn’t shown up by the time she finished getting ready, then she would walk over there.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Janice stared at the dirty dishes filling the sink. They needed to be washed, but she decided to wait. Nathan would have to eat lunch later, so there was no point in washing them only to dirty more soon after.

  She turned around and was shocked again by the condition of the living room. Still couldn’t believe it. So clean. She’d dusted, washed the walls, and vacuumed. To keep herself busy and her mind occupied so it couldn’t convince her to drink, she’d started cleaning. She’d cleaned all day yesterday.

  Nathan’s room had been first. She’d organized his toys, hung up posters that had fallen, moved his mattress to the other side of the room so he could see out the window. Then she’d washed all his sheets and pillowcases and the pillow itself.

  That had taken a long time. Then she’d moved on to her bedroom and had made it look as good and clean as possible.

  By the time she’d started on the living room, it had been nearly time for supper. She’d stopped for the day, and had finished this morning.

  So the dishes could wait a little while. She’d cleaned plenty already.

  Janice looked down at herself. She debated changing out of her denim cutoffs and white T-shirt. It hung down her legs, covering the frilly threads that tickled her thighs.

  Forget it.

  She was comfortable in what she had on.

  Nathan was outside, playing some kind of war game. She could hear him making the explosions with his mouth and telling imaginary soldiers to get down. His laughter broke through the faux demands, killing any kind of illusion that he was in a real battle.

  Janice stepped up to the window in the living room. She could see Nathan spinning around, hopping from foot to foot. The grass reached his bare knees.

  “Watch out for snakes!” she said.

  Nathan jerked rigid. “What?”

  “Snakes!”

  Nathan’s nose wrinkled, baring his teeth. “Ewwwww.”

  “Just be careful.”

  “Okay, Mommy!”

  Then he was hopping around again, as if there was nothing to worry about. Most likely there wasn’t, and this was the first time Janice could recall fretting about anything in a long time. So much alcohol over the past year had not only numbed her to her own pain, but to Nathan’s as well. It had kept her blind to the real problems.

  Amazing what a few days without a drink had done for her. She trembled constantly, had sharp stomach pains out of nowhere, and a thirst that wouldn’t go away, but her mind was clear, absolutely clear. She saw hope beyond the black rotting wall that was once her heart.

  If only I can stay this way.

  She hoped she could be like a real mother once again—a mother that cared about her son. For so long Nathan had been a dependent to claim on her taxes for a decent check that would be gone within days after catching her up on delinquent bills. But lurking in the recesses of her hope was fear, a quickly spreading death that would surely consume her once again. It missed her and would reclaim her at the first opportunity.

  Janice didn’t know how to be a mother. When Nathan was a baby, it had been so easy. It had felt hard at the time, but when she looked back on it, she could see the pattern to it all. If she stuck to the pattern, all was fine. Once he’d started moving on his own, constructing sentences and developing a personality, the design had been destroyed. She’d never been one who could quickly adapt to any situation, even motherhood.

  I suck.

  Janice pushed the thought away, knowing it would only lead her to more self-damaging remarks about herself. And that would open the door to the slithering darkness of defeat and fear.

  Welcome back to the family, Janice. Have a drink.

  God, she wanted a drink. So bad.

  Taking deep breaths, she closed her eyes, and focused on nothing. She felt sweat sliding down her forehead, slipping down the side of her face. More dribbled down from under her arms, tickling her sides. As the speed of her breaths began to reduce, the sounds of Nathan humming filtered through the rush of her doubts.

  Opening her eyes, she took one last deep breath. She felt better. Not great, but not as close to falling over the edge.

  Janice looked out the window again.

  Nathan was sitting on the ground, legs crossed, and waving a stick around the tops of the weeds that choked her yard. She needed to mow it. Not only were snakes a concern, but ticks were probably everywhere. Maybe this evening, when it wasn’t so hot, she would drag the push-mower out and cut the damn grass.

  Janice gave one more look at Nathan and started to turn away.

  And her eyes locked on the dog.

  She stiffened as her back felt like it was being gouged with a frozen dagger.

  A gasp tickled her throat.

  The dog was so big. Huge. His thick hair looked like dingy carpet, soaked in a dark, syrupy substance that dripped from him in thick glops. He stood under her fig tree, nearly hidden by its shade. Fins of light cut through the leaves, writhing bright splotches across his nasty fur. Mouth open, an elongated tongue dangled, dull in color which made Janice think of sickness.

  And he was staring at Nathan, whose back was to the dog, oblivious of his presence. Her son continued to hum and swipe the stick across the grass, making it sway like hair.

  It’s…Jagger.

  She’d heard about his disappearance, everyone in the trailer park had. The news had reported something about some people being killed by a dog a few days ago. She hadn’t really paid much attention to it. But seeing Jagger now, she had no doubt he’d been the dog to do it.

  And now he was here. Outside. With Nathan.

  “Oh my God…” she whispered.

  Her first impulse was to rush outside and pluck Nathan off the ground and run back in. Bad idea. She wouldn’t make it down the steps by the time Jagger had pounced her son.

  Her son.

  My son.

  A fluttering sensation traveled through her. She felt slightly dizzy as it worked from her head and down into her chest. Her heart seemed heavier as it beat, thudding slowly.

  An image of the Grinch flashed in her mind, his heart growing bigger.

  Her mother instincts seemed to click on as if a switch had been flipped. It had been so long since she’d felt anything like this that it nearly overwhelmed her with sorrow.

  I’m sorry, Nathan. For everything.

  She’d been a shitty mother. Nathan deserved better than her, better than
this shithole they’d been banished to and forgotten about. No more. She was not about to let him be in danger because of Jagger.

  I don’t give a shit how big the bastard is.

  Quietly, she snuck back to the kitchen. Her cast iron pan was still on the burner, the filmy remnants of scrambled eggs clinging to the insides. It had been her mother’s, and she’d given it to Janice as an early wedding present. Her fingers curled around the crispy handle. She lifted it from the burner and silently hurried back to the window.

  She peeked outside.

  Nathan was still there, lost in his fantasies. He hadn’t moved.

  And neither had Jagger. He continued to gaze at her son, motionless as if he’d been lodged there.

  Going out the front door would only call attention to her, so she hurried back through the kitchen to the back door. She slipped the chain out of the catch, and quietly opened the door. Another set of timeworn wooden steps were back here that wobbled as she stepped down them.

  The backyard was more overgrown than the front. It had been almost two months since she’d last mowed it. The grass was nearly waist high, and she’d forgotten to put on shoes.

  Janice waded through the weeds. Her legs itched. Her feet were jabbed and poked by various things. Reaching the corner of the trailer, she poked her head around the side.

  And couldn’t see anything from this angle.

  Shit.

  Janice started walking again. Her footfalls sounded like loud whispers as she moved through the high grass.

  Please don’t step on any snakes. Or a bee.

  She expected any moment to feel a stinging pinch on the bottom of her foot.

  Nothing happened.

  She reached the other corner without any trouble.

  Peeking around the edge, Janice saw Nathan. No longer was he facing away from Jagger. Now he was turned around, his tiny back to Janice.

  On his knees, he patted his thighs with both hands.

  Trying to get Jagger to come to him!

  “Nathan,” said Janice in a harsh whisper.

  Her son didn’t hear her. He slapped his thighs, bounced a little as he tried to get Jagger to come forward. “Come here, Jagger,” he said, clucking his tongue. His voice sounded even higher than normal. “Come on.”

  “Nathan,” she repeated, louder this time, but very shaky.

  This time Nathan heard her, twisting his body to look back at her. His face lightened up and a silly grin stretched across his mouth. “Mommy! Look!” He pointed at Jagger. “Jagger’s here!”

  “I see him, Nathan,” said Janice. “Come on over here to me.”

  “But…”

  “Now, Nathan. We have to get inside, okay?”

  His smile fell away. “Mommy, I wanted to pet Jagger.”

  No!

  “Nathan,” she said, her voice more stern than she’d meant for it to be. “You can’t pet him.”

  Nathan’s expression showed he didn’t understand. And how could he? There had never been a problem before. Whenever Amy would march around the neighborhood for the lot rent, she always had Jagger with her. And the dog had never showed any hints of aggressiveness toward Nathan in the past. Or if he had, Janice had been too numb to notice.

  “He’s filthy,” Janice said. “Look at his fur.”

  Nathan glanced back at Jagger, who still hadn’t moved. A gentle breeze ruffled some loose strand of fur that weren’t matted down.

  This seemed to work for Nathan. When he looked back, his nose was wrinkled into a childish grimace. “Ewww. Okay.”

  He started walking toward Janice.

  Jagger started following.

  “Nathan, stop!”

  Nathan jerked to a halt. He looked up at Janice with his teeth bared and his eyes wide. “What’d I do, Mommy?”

  Janice’s heart nearly broke at the question. It was more proof of how much she had failed him as a mother. Because her voice had risen, he’d instantly assumed he’d done something wrong.

  “Nothing, Nathan. You did just fine, I promise. But stay there, okay? Let me come to you.”

  “Okay.”

  Keeping the iron pan behind her back, she started walking. The grass parted as she made her way closer to Nathan.

  From the other side of Nathan, Jagger was also making his way closer.

  And Nathan looked from his mother back to the dog, over and over. Worry began to appear on his innocent face as if he was starting to suspect the danger of what was going on.

  “Mommy…?”

  “Almost there, Nathan.”

  He raised a finger to his mouth and rubbed his lips.

  Jagger was much closer to Nathan than she was. If Jagger broke into a sprint, he would beat her to Nathan by a few seconds. And it would take nothing for Jagger to…

  Don’t think it. Don’t allow that thought to register.

  Kill him.

  No! Not Nathan.

  Janice felt a buzzing inside her head, could hear the rushing sound of blood in her ears. Though she was sweating, her skin felt cold and icky, as if she’d been drenched in ice water. Something bad was about to happen. Her entire body sensed it.

  A few days ago, Janice probably would have been dozing on the couch. She wouldn’t have heard a thing and would have come outside to get Nathan for lunch. He’d have been gone or…dead.

  But I’m here now. I’m here now. I’ll show them all how much I care. Mom will know that I can be a good mother. She’ll know…

  And more important than her mother knowing—Janice would know.

  Jagger stopped just a few long steps away from Nathan. Janice still had a short ways to go before reaching her son.

  “Mommy, he’s growling!”

  “Calm down, Nathan.”

  High-pitched wheezing came from her son as his shoulders bopped up and down. She could see his chest expanding and dropping behind his blue shirt. He was terrified, on the verge of panic. Any moment now, he might try to run…

  “Just stay there, Nathan,” she said. “Don’t run.”

  “I’m scared…”

  “I know. Mommy’s almost there.”

  Shouldn’t have let him outside. Not without me out here to watch him. This is my fault. My fault!

  But if Amy would have kept the dog locked up like she was supposed to…

  Nathan started to lift his leg, as if he was about to take a step back.

  Janice’s arm felt weighed down and very slow as she started to raise it. “No, Nathan!”

  Everything seemed to slow down: Nathan’s leg bent and moved back, his foot dropping to the ground. The grass crunched when his foot pressed it down.

  Then like a gun blast, everything kicked back into normal speed.

  Before Janice could move, Jagger had already leaped with a single bark, signaling his attack.

  Nathan managed to gabble out a gasp before Jagger’s beefy paws slapped his chest.

  Janice watched Nathan go down into the tall grass, with Jagger dropping down on top.

  “No!”

  Nathan’s screams tore through the tranquility of the day, stopping the breeze, killing the sounds of birds and distant audible noise.

  Janice ran, raising the cast iron pan. “Get away from him!”

  Jagger lifted his head, cocking it slightly. A tattered piece of Nathan’s shirt dangled from his lips.

  She slammed the pan against the dog’s face, feeling the impact tremor up her arms like a baseball bat hitting stone. The vibrations made her hands lock up. Unable to keep a hold of her pan, she watched it fly away with Jagger’s twisting body.

  The pan vanished into the grass an instant before Jagger crashed to the ground on his back. The grass folded under him. He rolled onto his side, back facing her, and didn’t move.

  Janice dropped to her knees.

  Nathan was bloody. He lay on his back, arms covering his face. Crimson streaks covered his bare arms. His shirt was ripped down the middle. She saw a few scratches on his chest and belly, but nothing m
ajor.

  And he was crying.

  He’s alive!

  “Nathan, I’m here!”

  Janice pulled his arms away from his face and gasped when she saw the swollen bun around his eye. The eye itself didn’t look damaged, just banged up really bad. He should be fine.

  “Mean…” cried Nathan.

  “What?”

  “Jagger’s mean now, Mommy!”

  Now Nathan wailed. Janice felt tears in her own eyes as she reached for him. Her hands curled over his shoulders and started to lift him.

  Nathan’s shrieks made her turn sideways.

  And in a flash, she saw Jagger diving for her. His yawning mouth was wide, and teeth dripping.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Amy patted the pocket of her shorts to make sure she had her keys. She felt the lumpy bulge and heard them jangle. Then she pulled the locked door shut.

  She’d waited another fifteen minutes for Ellie to show up. Giving up, she’d decided to walk over there. Hopefully she wouldn’t be interrupting anything.

  She said she would be here at nine. She’s nearly forty minutes late. She would do the same if it was me.

  Amy picked up the pizza box, stuck it under her arm, and gathered up the few trash bags. It was a tad awkward, but she managed to carry everything down the steps and into the yard.

  She walked over to the trash can beside the house. Pulling the lid toward her, she hefted the bags and dropped them in. The newest additions filled it to the top, so she had to pound the pizza box flat to get it all to fit. Then she flipped the lid over and closed it.

  She was on her way to the gate when suddenly the air became a tumult of shrill screams. They sounded a ways off, hollow and thin as the resonances reached her.

  Sounds like a kid!

  Without thinking, Amy dashed out from inside the fence. She ran up her driveway, kicking up rocks behind her. She felt their tiny stings whenever they bounced off her calves.

  A woman screaming carried above the other, crying out. Something deeper was added to the high-pitched wails.

  Barking!?!

  Within a few short seconds, it all stopped.