“Sure! He loves meeting new people.”
Watching Detective Perez cuddle Bridger in the aisle of the pet superstore had to be one of the most surreal experiences of my life, and that included the last week. Perez handed Bridger back to Don, who tucked him safely away in his sling.
“You don’t have a pet, Mr. Hillebrand?” she asked me. I remembered Petreski telling me that he and Perez had talked about me, and I wondered what, exactly, he had told her.
“No. I have a friend who’s a cat, and a squirrel who spies on me.”
“Huh?”
“There’s a big black cat who comes by my apartment and hangs out, but he’s not mine. And there’s a squirrel who lives in the tree outside my building. He sits on the windowsill and watches me through the window.”
“He’d probably lose interest if you’d stop feeding him,” Don apparently felt the need to tell me. Again.
“Maybe. But sunflower seeds are his favorite.”
“How would you know that?” Perez asked. So Petreski hadn’t told her everything.
“I just... I can just tell. Anyway, we’re probably keeping you from important police business. We’ll just be going and let you, um, get back to whatever... yeah, okay. Come on, Don.” I grabbed Don’s elbow and steered him towards the front of the store.
“Bye, Detective!” Don called over his shoulder as I dragged him away. “What the hell, Jake? That was so rude, and Detective Perez is so nice.”
“The what, you say? Detective Perez hates me. She’s mean and kind of scary.”
“No. I totally don’t see that at all.”
“No, I guess not. But she was asking about stuff that was getting into a weird area for me, and I needed to get the hell out of there. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay. I think maybe her cat died and she feels sad. You think that’s why she said she didn’t have a cat ‘at the moment’?”
That didn’t feel like the right explanation, but since I didn’t have a better answer – one that made sense – I shrugged. “Maybe.”
❧
“I’m going to see Miss Nancy this afternoon. You want to come?”
Don rolled his eyes.
“A simple ‘no’ would suffice. You don’t have to be rude.”
“Sorry.”
“Anyway, what with everything that’s going on, I want to talk to her. And I thought you might be a little more open-minded after... you know. And you could always just hang at the market or something if you can’t bring yourself to go inside.”
“I don’t know.” We were crossing the bridge where we’d found Bridger, and Don stopped to look down at the water below. This was progress.
“I know she’d like to meet you.”
“Yeah? Like how you knew where Bridger was and how that squirrel’s name is Raymond?”
“No, because she said she wants to meet you. I’ve known her even longer than I’ve known you, and she thinks it’s strange you’ve never met.”
“Oh.”
“It’s not all psychic powers and mind-reading and the power of the Tarot, you know.”
“Sorry.”
I shrugged.
“Can I bring Bridger?”
“Yeah, I think she’d probably like to meet him, too. She’s got a soft spot for cats.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Jake Buys Don a Candle
Don did go with me to see Miss Nancy that afternoon. I had a feeling Don would like Miss Nancy once he got to know her and saw that she wasn’t a charlatan. For me, Miss Nancy had always been a source of common sense, good advice, and comfort. How could anyone object to that?
Miss Nancy was thrilled that I brought Don, and she fussed over and cuddled Bridger until I was afraid Don would have trouble getting him back from her. The three of us sat around Miss Nancy’s kitchen table, and in honor of the occasion she got out her nice tea set.
“Now, honey,” she said, as we waited for the tea to steep. “Tell me about the new presence in your life.”
“It’s funny, Miss Nancy. There’s more than one.”
She raised an eyebrow so high it almost disappeared under her tie-dyed turban.
“Well, there’s Bridger, of course.”
“Honey, Bridger doesn’t count. Bridger is a new presence in Don’s life, to be accurate.”
“Well, there’s Boo.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“He’s this big black cat who’s started coming around. It’s the strangest thing. It’s like he’s a person, almost, we just don’t speak the same language. Or at least, I don’t speak cat.”
I told them about the evening Boo had brought the lady cat, and how Boo had kept Bridger from trying to follow her out the window. Miss Nancy agreed that this was exceptional behavior, but didn’t have an explanation for it.
“This is all mighty interesting, honey, but please get to the point.”
“The point?”
“You know what I’m talking about. I was there when you bought that ‘Bring Love to Me’ candle. And I know you probably ran straight home and lit that thing.”
Don stifled a snort.
“Okay, fine. Yes, I lit it.” I told her about Petreski, and how he had come over. I told her about Tom Wilton and how I thought he might like me and that Petreski was jealous.
Just like always, Miss Nancy sipped her tea and let me talk. Miss Nancy didn’t have to even try to be a psychic with me – I always told her everything. But she could piece things together and see connections and patterns better than I could. This was what Don had never understood. I didn’t go to see Miss Nancy for psychic advice. Going to see Miss Nancy was how I cleared my mind.
Miss Nancy put on her thinking face and stared at the ceiling.
“What –”
“Shh.” I told Don in a whisper. “She’s thinking.”
After a minute Miss Nancy straightened herself, took a sip of tea and asked, “Jake, honey, did that squirrel ever tell you anything of interest?”
“Just his name.”
“His name?”
“Yeah. It’s Raymond. I’m afraid I offended him, but we’re past that now.”
“And that’s all?” she asked with a smirk.
“Yeah. And that he loves sunflower seeds. They’re his favorite.”
“And that’s really all you got out of that exchange?”
I looked over at Don, and he had the fingers of one hand over his mouth, like he knew the answer to this question and was trying to keep himself from blurting it out. What was I missing?
“Dude...” Don looked over at Miss Nancy, and she nodded. “Dude, think about it. How do you know these things? I mean, think about how you found out.”
“Raymond told me.”
“And Raymond is...”
“Raymond is a – shit. I don’t mean Raymond is a shit. Sorry, Miss Nancy. I mean, Raymond is a freaking squirrel. Yeah, right. I had a meltdown over it the night it happened. It was when Petreski came over and he kind of forced me into figuring out what I am.”
“And Detective Petreski didn’t seem shocked by what happened?” Miss Nancy asked.
“No. He had told me – that day we all walked over to the bridge. He told me that he has a high tolerance for the unusual. I figured he meant because he’s a cop he’s seen all kinds of crazy stuff in his work. Maybe that’s not exactly what he meant.”
“Maybe you should ask him.”
“Maybe, but I can’t. At least, not until the case is solved.”
“Are you frightened?”
“Frightened?”
“When we talked about this the last time you were here, you wondered whether the things that were happening were your fault.”
I heard Don make a surprised noise, but I didn’t take my eyes off Miss Nancy. “I’m not worried about that anymore.”
“No. And we talked about how most people find out about this kind of thing when they’re younger.”
“Petreski had a theory about that. He thinks I’ve always
had a connection with animals, but it was never able to develop because I never had a pet when I was a kid, or formed a bond with an animal until I started feeding Raymond.”
“That makes Raymond very special, you know.”
“It does?”
“Yes. I think, the more you develop your bond with Raymond, the more you’ll learn about what you are and what you can do.”
“Maybe. It can’t hurt to try.”
“And ask your Detective Petreski. He may know more than he’s told you so far.”
We all sipped our tea, thinking.
“What about Boo, Miss Nancy?”
“I don’t know... There’s something I can’t quite put my finger on. I need to think on him some more.”
After another minute of silent tea drinking, Don finally spoke up.
“Did you... did you really think all this stuff might be your fault?”
“I didn’t know... was I dreaming something that had already happened, or was stuff happening because I was dreaming it? I didn’t know what was happening, and I was scared.”
“What about now?”
“I still have a lot of questions, but I’m not scared. And I’m still having dreams, but they’re not scary anymore. No one’s gotten killed in them. And Boo’s been waking me up when they start.”
“I don’t know that that’s such a good thing,” said Miss Nancy.
“What do you mean?”
“Some of these dreams might be important. There might be things in them you need to know. This might sound crazy. But try asking him to let you sleep through your dreams unless they get really bad and you’re in distress.”
“But, he’s a cat.”
“He’s not a normal cat.”
“No, he’s not. I’ll try.”
We took Miss Nancy to the market and botanica after that. I bought a Road Opener candle for Don, and I think he appreciated it even though he rolled his eyes. Miss Nancy picked out some herbs and mixed up a tea blend for me. It was supposed to help me think clearly and make decisions. I told her about my disastrous attempt to smoke the, um, herb she had given me the last time, and about how Petreski had smoked the rest of it, and she laughed so hard she had to wipe her eyes. At least someone was amused.
A Guy Can’t Even Get a Beer
I thought I’d feel silly, asking a cat not to wake me up if I had a bad dream, but Boo looked at me like he understood, and head-butted me when I’d finished. Talking to Boo was not like talking to a cat. My life had gotten so strange.
That night I dreamed about the heavy mind again. I tried to pay more attention this time, to figure out what I was, where I was, anything. I was a dog – I could sense that much. I stretched, and I felt powerful. Murphy had felt light and agile – which made sense because he was a terrier. This time I felt strong, but that was it. I could hear voices, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. There was a deep voice that made me prick up my ears. That voice made me feel strange. I was afraid, and confused.
There was another voice, higher-pitched. This voice sounded afraid, too. I whined. I needed to protect. The voices were on the other side of a door, and I couldn’t get to them. I tried to speak, and heard a low-pitched bark. I tried again, a little louder. The voices stopped for a moment, and then the deep voice started speaking again, louder and faster.
I sensed anger and fear from the other side of the door, and that fueled my own fear. I needed to help, but didn’t know how. A part of me was still Jake, but unable to do anything but observe. I had no control over the body or consciousness I was inhabiting.
I woke up then, on my own. I turned, and Boo was watching me, tail twitching, but not touching me. “Hey, Boo,” I croaked, my throat dry. I got up to get a glass of water. Boo followed me into the kitchen, not taking his eyes off of me.
“I’m okay, Boo,” I told him after I’d drunk some water. “Thanks for letting me sleep – you did good.” I ran my hand down his back and he pressed up against my touch.
I went back to bed and Boo hopped up next to me.
“Somebody’s in trouble, Boo. I think I know who, but I don’t know how to do anything about it.”
❧
I poured myself a cup of coffee, put a handful of sunflower seeds on the windowsill, and waited. After a minute Raymond showed up, nose twitching, and looking around.
“Boo’s gone, Raymond. Don’t worry, though – he won’t hurt you, I promise.”
Moving slowly, I shifted from the sofa to sit on the edge of the coffee table. “Raymond – is it okay if I call you Ray?” He cocked his head at me and I couldn’t sense any negative vibes, so I took that as a yes.
“Thanks. So, I’m Jake, by the way. I guess we haven’t actually been introduced. I’m not sure, well, this is new for me, okay? So if you’ll be patient with me, I’ll try not to screw up too much.”
Raymond kept eating, so I kept talking.
“See, Miss Nancy, she’s a friend of mine. Anyway, she figures you’re probably special. Like, you and I have a bond or something. And that I should try to get to know you better. I’ve never known a squirrel before, though. Do squirrels have friends, Ray?”
He looked at me, blinking and chewing.
“My friend Don, he lives across the hall. You’ve seen him before, right? He’s kind of afraid of squirrels, but I’ve told him you’re okay. He’s afraid you’ll try to come inside, but I’m not worried. I mean, if you wanted to come in, I’d be okay with that as long as you tried not to mess anything up.”
Raymond cocked his head at me, then placed one front paw through the window, moving it from the brick ledge outside to the wooden sill inside. He held his other front paw curled against his chest, ready to dash if I made any sudden moves.
I sat as still as I could and slowly raised my coffee cup to take a sip, never breaking my gaze on Raymond. His other paw came down, and he hopped onto the inner sill and sat up, looking around.
Keeping my voice soft, I started speaking again. “See, it’s okay. Nothing scary. Although, you might not want to come in when Bridger is over. He’s pretty small still, and might not understand. He might try to play rough or something, and I wouldn’t want either one of you to get hurt. It’ll have to be a judgment call on your part, but the main thing is that he doesn’t get hurt, okay? Because he’s still a baby.”
Raymond cocked his head and twitched his tail. I caught a sense of understanding, and wondered whether it was real or my imagination. I hoped that, in time, I’d learn to tell the difference.
❧
Tom Wilton wasn’t in class that day. I wondered whether he was at home, finally grieving for his father, or just slacking off. Whatever the reason for his absence, I was relieved not to have to deal with him again.
Don was out when I got home, and I remembered he was working the lunch shift today. I fixed myself a sandwich, raised the window in case Raymond felt like visiting, and settled in to get some reading done while I waited for Don to get home.
Raymond didn’t show, but I heard Don get in around two-thirty. It really was true that you couldn’t come and go without being heard. I decided to give Don time to clean up and greet Bridger. If he didn’t come by before too long I’d go over there and get him. I wanted to tell him about Boo, and my dream, and Raymond. Also, I wanted to find out if he’d lit his candle. He probably wouldn’t tell me, though, so maybe I’d have to go over there and poke around.
Twenty minutes later I knocked on Don’s door. He cracked it open and looked out at me with one eye. “What?”
“What? What do you mean, what? I’ve got stuff to tell you. Why are you acting weird?”
“I’m not acting weird.”
“Then why aren’t you opening the door?”
“I don’t want Bridger to get out.”
“How long did you practice that line? Come on, let me in.”
Don sighed and stepped back. When I walked into his apartment I could see right into the kitchen and the Road Opener candle was flickerin
g away on the stove top. “A-ha!”
“Whatever. I figured it couldn’t hurt. Besides, it looks nice.”
I didn’t say anything else – I didn’t want to seem smug. “You wanna get a beer at Ground Up?”
“Yeah, sure.”
I waited while he put Bridger in his sling, then put the harness, leash, and treats in his backpack. I didn’t ask, I figured I’d find out soon enough.
We sat on the patio sipping our beers and I told Don about the events of the previous night and that morning. He was not impressed by my inviting Raymond inside for a chat, but didn’t give me a hard time about it.
When Bridger started stirring, Don took him out of the sling and put the harness on him. Bridger was not thrilled, but didn’t fight it. Don hooked the leash to the harness, and gave Bridger a treat. Bridger had no objection to the treat.
“Are you going to put him down on the ground?” I asked.
“Not yet. Right now I’m just getting him used to wearing it. If he starts getting restless I’ll put him down and see what happens.”
It was a perfect moment. The sun was bright and warm, the breeze was cool, and the beer was cold. We were relaxing and enjoying the peace and quiet when Harry came outside, a phone pressed to his ear.
“Yes. Yes, I understand. I’ll be here.” He ended the call and turned to go back inside. Don and I looked at each other and shrugged. Something was going on, and I didn’t really want to know.
Don’s phone rang, and I got a funny feeling.
“Hello? Yes. He’s right here, hang on.” He passed his phone over to me. “It’s Detective Petreski.”
I took the phone, but I had a feeling this wasn’t a social call. “Hello?”
“Jake. Where are you right now?”
“We’re at Ground Up. On the patio.”
“Is anyone else out there with you?”
I looked around. “No. Harry was just out here talking on the phone, but he went back inside. He was talking to you, wasn’t he?”
“Yes. Stay there, okay? Don’t leave, and don’t talk to anyone. We’ll be there soon.”
“What’s going on?”
“Just sit tight. I’ll explain when we get there. Five minutes. Okay?”
Not a Werewolf Page 11