IS
5

After changing into fresh clothes, I chose not to play with my family but rather just sat and watched; throbbing with pain while adhering to questionable possibilities that may, or may not over the next few days present themselves. And yet still, one very short and simple question that continued to hang in the balance, with no apparent or simple answer, also continued to haunt me… Why?

I had refused to take any pain medication stronger than a couple of ibuprofen, for fear of altering my perception or reaction to anything I may yet have to deal with over the next several remaining hours. Displaying a fake smile while pretending to take notice of their game, I was also simultaneously watching the dark windows and glass door-wall leading to the deck. Any residential orifice that connected us to the outside where he would have the freedom to move about at will, with little or nothing to stop any advances he chose to bring to the table.

These are the times I wish we had a dog for a family pet; a large one. Maybe a German shepherd, or possibly a big beautiful Lab. Man’s best friend! I know he would certainly be mine right about now. But this never happened, and possibly never will in this household, ever since Shane was diagnosed to be allergic to pet dander way back when he was only a year old. We had a lizard at one time, but I don’t feel the standard of protection he could administer would prove to be sufficient, or intimidating.

Anyway, we were on our own. And after tomorrow, I would be on my own. I rose to my feet and approached the back window, where I was able to scan the entire schoolyard. Everything appeared to be still and quiet.

“Whatcha doin hon?” Corey inquired.

“Nothing, just looking out at the fog moving in.” And it was. A calm, but eerie mist had begun to infiltrate the field, with a presence deserving of any Hitchcock film.

“See any dead deer?” Shane jested, as Corey lightly smacked the back of his head in defiance of his crude comment.

The deer! Suddenly I was seeing the vision of that poor animal that had, according to Big Bill, been torn in half. There’s no way the lanky and awkward physique that had chased me was capable of such a feat. Not by the strength of his bare hands anyway, or actually, anyone else’s hands either. The thought of that whole scenario was very disturbing and hard to think about for too long, before a sickening feeling would start to grow in the pit of your stomach. Anyone that could be so callous as to do something so grotesque to one of God’s creatures, would certainly have no limitations to what could be in his arsenal of iniquity.

The more I thought about it, the less safe I began to feel. I just had to get through this night. And tomorrow, after I had my family out of harm’s way and secure on a plane to the Sunshine State, I could then go to the police and finally have someone in my corner. “Just have to get through this night!” I whispered softly under my breath, as my eyes became locked onto one of the school’s security lights with a frozen stare.

It wasn’t too much longer that my wife and kids said their goodnights and retired to the haven of their cool sheets and warm thoughts. Undoubtedly having visions of palm trees and beaches, starfish and dolphins, and everything else associated with being in one of the country’s most visited vacation spots.

And then there was me at the opposite side of the house, dwelling in a completely opposite spectrum of thoughts. My visions were of hope and despair; of the cold and unfeeling that prey on the meek and unobtrusive. The relentless ache of my wounds had now reached the threshold of unbearable, as I now stood guard for what I could only hope would be an uneventful stint, leading into the morning’s dawn. Not being much of a church going kind of guy, I still proclaimed my faith. Especially tonight! I felt if I could have anyone on my side, I could definitely call on the Big Guy upstairs. I only prayed that at this late hour, he would be listening!

It was about 11:30 when I made my way to the cupboard to pop a few more ibuprofen for the pain. My whole right arm from shoulder to fingertips was flaring with an intensity that made me begin to question infection, and ultimately, my decision to decline real medical attention.

Then again, I was feeling incredibly anxious towards anything and everything at this late hour. And even though my family was just down the hall from me, I felt incredibly alone and alienated, as I continued to survey the great outdoors for any movement whatsoever. The now dense fog hovered waist height off the ground, as it wavered through the schoolyard with a ghostly manifestation that made me feel even more uncomfortable, if that was even possible. And if I had only waited a few a seconds longer, I would have had no reason to even ask that question.

Staring off in the direction of the school, my peripheral vision had picked up on some movement to my left, to the other side of the chain link backstop—the very spot where the remains of that poor unfortunate beast had been displayed with such immoral precision.

“Okay--game on!” I whispered with a morbid sense of excitement, while heading to the garage for some type of weapon. By the time I reached the door, I had it narrowed down to either a baseball bat, or a golf club. I went with golf club; lighter and easier to grasp, and yet, still heavy and dense enough at the end to cause some serious damage. I pulled the five iron from my bag and proceeded back into the house.

Shaking again; a sensation I had so familiarly become accustomed to. I stopped dead in my tracks, to see that the deck’s security light was now on—a light that is essentially controlled by a motion sensor. Someone or something was there. And as I cautiously contemplated even making an effort to move towards the door wall, I was well aware that whatever set that light off, could very well still be there. For the moment, I had decided to remain still; watching for any shadow of movement through the closed curtain. Closed curtain, at least I had that!

Wait! What? At what point did I become such a pussy? This is my damn house! And my family’s just down the hall. No one threatens that! Not here. Not now! This was working.

I now felt a courageous rage pushing me to the door. Just as I reached the door handle, the deck became dark again. The light had timed out. But this hadn’t stopped my fury, as I turned the latch and slid the door open almost simultaneously. The light now clicked back on, and I stood there in the silence, ready to swing at anything. But again, there was nothing. A large part of me was feeling a sense of relief, while the other that was still coming down from the rage wanted desperately to beat and bludgeon something; to vent out everything bad, and somehow even the score, whatever the cost.

During all of the excitement, the pain that once took precedence, had been forgotten, or lost… until now! And as I dropped my iron to the deck, blood was now streaming off my fingers and falling to the deck as well. The pain had returned as I tilted my hand upward above my chest to end the flow, and decrease the pressure. Oddly enough, my elbow didn’t seem to bother me as much. I guess it hadn’t seen as much action. Although, turning my arm, the bandage did seem to be a bit soaked and red.

Continuing to keep my damaged hand elevated, I squatted to retrieve the club with my left, before stepping off the deck and out into the yard. Never letting down my guard, I briefly looked around the perimeter and over to the baseball diamond, before the feeling of insecurity became too much, and I knew it was time to head back inside. I was beginning to feel that maybe my imagination had gotten the best of me. After all, anything could have set that light off, and anything usually does.

I heard what sounded like a branch snap, over to the left side of the yard, somewhere amongst the pine trees that separated our property from the neighbor’s. Placing the club back in my right hand, I began to inch my way backwards, reaching behind for the railing with my left, never taking my eyes from that spot, never making myself vulnerable to any advances. And just as my fingers finally made contact, and I was ready to make advances of my own, I turned and screamed, as I was caught off guard by a large mass that moved at me! …then licked my face, and continued to lick my wounds too. I once again dropped the club.

“Damn it Hercules!” I yelled, as I couldn’t help but pet my neighbor’s Saint Bernard, who had apparently gotten loose again. He was a big beautiful teddy bear of a dog who was great with all the neighborhood kids, and they all loved him as well.

Then I heard the door wall slide open. “What the hell, Josh!” Corey shrieked, as I could see Alley peeking out from behind her.

“I’m sorry! It’s—”

“Hercules!” Corey called in a playful tone, as he stepped onto the deck and over to her and Alley, joyfully wagging his tail and relishing in their hugs.

“He got out again!” she announced.

“Really?” I responded sarcastically.

“You’re going to have to put him back. You know he doesn’t jump the fence. I think that damn gate unlatched again!” she said in all of her wisdom.

“Yeah—right. Come here, Hercules!” I called, as he gladly obliged, almost knocking me over with his massive size. “I got this. Go back to bed!” I commanded.

“Bye, baby!” Corey said, in that same playful tone.

“Bye, Hercules!” Alley yelled.

As he and I rounded the corner of the house, I heard Corey yell out, “Ooh gross! You know there’s blood on the deck?”

I just shook my head and continued on my way with my big buddy at my side. Hercules was Dave and Nancy Gust’s dog. They lived directly across the street from the Timmersons. And even though he was as mild mannered and friendly as any dog could possibly be, I still felt very safe, walking alongside his huge girth.

As I approached their house, I could tell that the gate to the fenced back yard was open. Over the years, the corner post had shifted outward to the point where the latching mechanism on the gate was compromised. Any normal amount of pressure against it would eventually pop it open. Dave had neglected that issue for the past two years now. The only way to temporarily resolve it was to over bend the mechanism to the point where it would hold, which is exactly what I did--again!

“Goodnight, Hercules,” I said, as I left the gate, ventured to the side of Dave’s house, and continued on out to the street, where, for some reason, even at this hour, I still looked both ways before crossing. I gave a quick glance to my left, which was a short run before the turn, and then to my right, as an icy chill took me by surprise; just as the unexpected surprise that now stood his ground before me.

Two houses down, in the middle of the street—it was him. As overcome with fear as I absolutely was, I reached deep this time. This time I would put my balls on the table, and not back down, no matter what. “Smiley!” I yelled out, in all of my anxious pride.

There was no audible response, as he only tilted his head to one side. And in the dark, on this sparsely lit street, I could only guess that he was once again smiling at that very moment.

“I’m not running this time!” I roared, as I reached down with my wrapped and bloodied hand to snatch up someone’s skateboard for a weapon. “Come on!” I yelled--to no one, as I returned my eyes in the very direction where he had somehow disappeared. “No-no-no, you’re kidding me!” I shouted, in total amazement. Literally, two seconds--tops! and he was gone.

I tossed the board onto the grass, dumbfounded and angry, as I turned and hiked the short distance back, continuously scouting for him behind every car, and between every house, when I heard Hercules barking frantically. Hercules rarely ever barked. One of the reasons Dave had no problem keeping him outside, was that he never barked! This made me nervous for his safety. And I was contemplating whether I should go back to check on him, when the barking stopped—and everything fell silent.

Hercules? I whispered to myself as I stared in the direction of the Gust house; wanting to move in that direction, but ultimately being controlled by the fear which kept me there, frozen and hesitant. I shuddered to think of what may be happening to poor Hercules, or rather, what may have happened. And if that should prove to be true, and I had done nothing, how could I ever live with that?

This gave me the courage to move forward, but not before retrieving the five iron I had dropped in the back yard only a short while ago. Crossing the street with weapon in hand, I could only imagine how anyone other than myself would perceive this. But there was no room in my conscience to take on any more reservations of suspicion or worry. And at this early hour, I had enough on my plate.

I continued up the sidewalk and towards the gate, which was now open yet again. Cautiously making my way alongside the house, I was almost to the gate when I noticed the uninviting stench of rotting fish and ammonia. I was beginning to feel my stomach turn as I passed though the opened gate and around the corner of the house, when my eyes flashed an image to my brain that made me quickly retreat back around the corner from which I came.

He may have disappeared from the street, but he hadn’t gone far, as I had just seen him in the back yard, standing before Hercules. It was a disturbing sight, as Hercules seemed to be sitting, quiet and passive to the bald, pale stranger, as if under some sort of spell.

And just as I had turned the corner, I thought I saw the stranger’s head begin to turn in my direction, making me squeeze the club harder still, while feeling the wet sticky sensation of blood between my fingers. I was ready for anything right now, and at this point, I felt sure that it would happen. I slowly lifted the club, shaking, as I soon became aware of a shadow approaching. And just when I was ready to put everything I had into one clean swing, Hercules peeked his head around the corner with his big, sad eyes.

I lowered the club, and relaxed my grip. “Hey, boy!” I whispered. “You okay? Where’s he at?”

Having said this, I began to hear the beginnings of a deep, low growl rumble within him. At first, his body showed no movement at all. Only the corners of his mouth, as they slowly lifted, showing his teeth, making his sad eyes become obsessively mad. I had known Hercules for close to five years now, and this was not the friendly giant that I knew. “Hercules! What’s wrong, boy?”

He continued to slowly increase the level of his growl. I could now see practically all of his teeth, and the evil behind the eyes that possessed him.

“Hercules! It’s me—Josh! You know me, boy!” Desperately, I tried to reason with the kind, loving friend I knew to be in there somewhere, while trying not to succumb to the madness that at the moment, looked poised to tear me apart.

He slowly and meticulously backed me along the very wall that, only minutes earlier, had given me shelter, straight into the fence post. I slid down into the corner where the two met. I didn’t have it in me to swing the club, as I feared that this would only worsen the situation, if not quicken my demise. I dropped the club, closed my eyes, and turned my head away, as he was now close enough that I could smell and feel his warm breath on my exposed face and neck. Anticipating something much worse, I was surprised and grateful to feel his presence back away, as a single tear finally broke free and ran the length of my cheek.

I reluctantly opened my eyes to find Hercules slowly walking away from me. Then when he achieved a distance of maybe five yards or so, he turned completely around, sat back on his haunches, and just stared patiently in my direction, quiet and motionless. At least until something off to his right demanded his attention, as he rose to all fours again, wagging his tail with affection.

I knew instantly that it was him, as I jumped to my feet, latched on to the gate post, and hurled myself through the opening and out to the street. As I sprinted across and through my neighbor’s yards with the speed and agility of an Olympic athlete, I was amazed at how many questions came to mind in such a short amount of time. I would try to process later. For now, I just needed to get inside and away from all of this. Once I got to the garage door’s key pad, I frantically fumbled with the numbers in my unclear head, as I kept looking back for any sign of either of them. The large door finally began to open slowly, as I moved impatiently to the front of it, glancing everywhere behind me.

Anticipating some sort of last minute surprise, I was beside myself with relief as I had made it inside, around the family SUV, and all the way across to the button that would now secure my safety by closing me off from the outside. Riddled with anxiety, I reached out and slapped the button. The light on the door opener blinked several times, giving me indication that something was blocking, or in the path of the two remote eyes at either side of the entrance.

“Of course!” I sarcastically blurted out, as I nervously yanked another club from my golf bag, while on my way back towards the rear of the SUV, praying that whatever was blocking the two eyes would be inanimate and not waiting for me. Not caring which club I had chosen, I was in shock by the time I had reached my destination, and found its number five counterpart strategically leaning against the rear bumper.

What crazy game was he playing with me? And why? If he was trying to put my sanity on the brink of insane, he was getting closer to his goal! I quickly scanned the outlying area, wondering how he’d gotten here and gone again without being seen, before snatching up my original weapon of choice, and racing back to the button once more to end this whole ordeal—at least for now anyway. I tossed one club to the side and slapped the button once more, as I joyfully heard the three and a half horse power motor begin to do its job.

Turning around, I wasn’t at all surprised to see him standing at the end of my driveway, staring, his pale face smiling in my direction. Not surprised; but still shaken with fear at the sight of him, as the door continued its descent, slowly making him disappear from my sight yet again.

Inside the house, I locked the entrance to the garage and hysterically made my way around to every door and window, trying not to wake anyone, as my ears rang with the pressure that surged through my head in the now still and quiet surroundings of my home and family; totally uncharacteristic of what I had just been through.

I felt as though I had been away much longer, as I dropped back into a reclining chair before realizing that I still had a club in my hand. Lifting the head of the club to where I could now see the number five, I expressed something that resembled a smile, before tossing it onto the nearby couch. Then all at once I became flooded with earlier images of everything that had happened. What would be next, and when?

And yet, this was only a small fraction of all the questions that lingered with no apparent answers! Who was he—or should I say—what was he, and where did he come from? What did he want with me, and why was he doing all of this? How was he able to transform a lovable animal like Hercules into the vicious beast that had turned on me? And speaking of beasts, how was he able to do what he did to that poor deer--and why?

“Why?” I blurted, as I angrily jumped to my feet, grabbed the five iron off the couch, and moved to the front window that overlooked the street. No one was there. But he no longer had to be present for me to see his pale, gruesome, smiling face. That image was now imprinted in my mind, like some crazed excerpt from a Tim Burton movie that had been brought to life! My skin began to crawl as his face haunted my every thought. And there was something else about his face that was different. His eyes! I couldn’t be sure, because I hadn’t yet been close enough to really put my finger on it, and I’m not exactly hoping that I ever am, but there was definitely something horribly intriguing about his eyes.

Just then, the back security light came on. “No!” I whispered under my breath, as the mere thought of anything else would be too much for me to take. I waited patiently for it to time out and go dark again, and it did. But then only seconds later, the inevitable happened as it popped back on, illuminating the light tan colored curtain that hung in front of the glass sliding door to the deck. I felt as though I hadn’t anything left in my tank. I had used all my energy and drive just to cope with everything that had been thrown at me over the past several hours since my leisurely stroll on the bike path, earlier that afternoon.

I’ve been battered, bruised, and bloodied to no end, with nothing but shattered nerves and unanswered questions to show for it. Whoever—or whatever—he was, his desire to get to me seemed less than extreme, at least in the physical aspect anyway. If his initial intent was to physically hurt or even kill me, he’s had plenty of opportunities to accomplish that by now.

Mentally though, he had gotten to me long ago, and has continued to do a number on me ever since. And from the smile he seemed to always carry on that freakish face, he was enjoying himself. This was fun for him! I was standing here scared out of my mind. Blood stained and aching with injuries he caused, and yet, he’s out there—somewhere—waiting for the next show!

“No more!” I proudly announced as I headed towards the garage. I nervously opened the door and found the other club still lying where I had tossed it. For some reason, I half expected to find it leaning against the truck… go figure! I slid them both into the bag and returned back inside. But not before stopping, and staring at the large roll-up door that separated me from whatever would still be out there, waiting--and smiling. Now I felt sure that I must be losing my mind, as a small part of me wanted so badly to touch that button once more to see if anyone, or anything, was still there. Stick to the plan, Josh! I thought to myself. I would just make do until dawn, and after sending my family off later that night, I would go to the police and let them take it from there. I had done and been through enough.

As I entered back into the house and shut the door behind me, I looked over to the kitchen clock to find it was only 1:17. It seemed like so much had happened in so little amount of time. And with so much time still to go, I would just settle in and ignore everything pertaining to anything out there. After all, the house was all closed and locked up. Even the curtains and shades were now closed and drawn. What’s the worst that could happen? I would later regret ever having made such a ridiculous statement to myself.

I truly believe that I had finally reached a state of denial; that point where you want something to be true so bad, that you’re actually capable of convincing yourself that it really is. I turned off the switch to the back security light, and then flopped back into a chair. Whether the light came on or not had no bearing on anything to me anymore. It would only continue to keep my nerves on end, the very thing I would now be trying to avoid.

I had actually considered making myself a drink. A stiff one, at that. But then my common sense kicked in, and the notion was eventually cancelled out, and replaced with a pot of coffee. I knew I would eventually have to sleep, after all--I was only human! But that would come later, maybe after it was light out, and everything felt safe again. But for now, I’d drink coffee and watch TV. Something funny. Something damn funny to take my mind away from all of the scary, serious bullshit I’d been dealing with.

I sat up, clicked the TV on, and went into the kitchen to start the coffee. After I had gotten that started, I moved over to the sink to rinse off the wet and crusted blood from my hand and arm, as I began to unwrap the old bandages with plans of new. I was half listening to the Weather Channel with all the hype of a new storm system that would be moving into the area later that evening, when everything got quiet again. I turned to find the screen black and pictureless.

Shutting the faucet off, all of my concern was focused in that direction, when my nerves were once again put to the test by a quiet voice at the other end of the kitchen.

“Josh?”

My body flinched with surprise, as I turned a quarter turn further still, to find my wife standing there, half asleep and confused.

“Hey Hon,” I replied back, trying my best to look and sound normal.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” I responded in a nervous tone.

“I came out here earlier, and you still weren’t back. Then a short while later I heard you moving all about, ranting and raving to yourself. Is everything okay?”

“No, everything’s fine! I had a little problem with Hercules, though.”

“Oh, really?” she responded with concern.

“Yeah. He was really in a playful mood. Had me on the run!”

“Really! At this time in the morning?” she inquired.

“He really wasn’t himself!” I said.

“Maybe something he ate?” she wondered.

“Or something he wanted to,” I mumbled to myself.

“What?”

I desperately moved to change the subject. “Sorry if I woke you, Hon! The kids still sleeping?”

“Yeah. Everything’s good. How’s your hand and elbow?”

“A lot of pain. Nothing to worry about!”, as I quoted Norman from the movie, On Golden Pond. I would sometimes do crazy stuff like that. Corey hated when I did crazy stuff like that!

She rolled her eyes and announced that she was going back to bed. “Are you coming, Hon?” she asked.

“Not right now. I just made some coffee.”

“Coffee! At 1:30 in the morning?” she said.

I just smiled, as I was at a loss for a response.

“Whatever. You’re gonna be tired later! And I was thinking about taking the kids to that little area by the river tomorrow for a picnic. What do you think?”

“By the river?” I asked, trying not to show my apparent concern for her choice of setting. “Don’t you guys have to pack and stuff?” I asked.

“Got most of it done already!” she responded proudly. “Goodnight!” she said, as she moved down the hallway towards the comfort of our soft queen-size bed.

I actually considered putting the coffee on hold and retiring myself, when the TV suddenly popped back on and began to surf through a number of channels before finally coming to rest on a segment about Florida beaches. I was overcome with that familiar chill, realizing that he could probably see me at that very second through one of the curtain drawn windows, or perhaps the door wall. None of which were visually impenetrable, at least not from the outside anyway. And now to add to his bag of tricks, he was capable of controlling electronic devices from… well, at least out there. The show was now back on for him as he continued to toy with me.

There was also one other thing to consider. How did he know about Florida? “How did you know about Florida?” I blurted out, without any thought or hesitation.

But there was no response or action of any kind to my question. Just what the hell was I expecting? Some sort of message through the TV set? My eyes traveled the room all around me. I then began to feel somewhat silly at the notion, while noticing that the segment wasn’t pertaining exclusively to only beaches in Florida. And besides, we’d recently had problems with that damn remote before! Shane had spilt Kool Aid on it just the other day, causing the buttons to eventually stick and respond erratically.

All my questions and suspicions had been taken care of in a matter of seconds, as my eyes began to burn with another notion entirely. I felt I could no longer sustain this vigil as I was in dire need of sleep. My body was running on fumes, and I began to also suspect that at least a fraction of what I had earlier seen or assumed could have been the result of an unclear and overworked brain. Maybe, or maybe not.

But there was nothing maybe about him. His existence, whoever—or whatever—he was, was absolute. And once my family was gone, I would then start my quest for answers to the malevolent soul in question, or rather maybe the police would.

Nevertheless, I had come to the point where my presence was serving no real purpose to anyone, especially myself. Not at this hour, and not in this worn out and abused condition. With that, I jokingly said, “You watch what you want, I’m going to bed!” As I pushed the power button, tossed the remote onto the couch, and made my way towards the bedroom, turning off a couple of lights on the way.

Minutes after I’d left the room, the TV came back on, rolling through a variety of channels before finally stopping on the original classic Sci-Fi picture, The Thing.

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