The Anything Box

Eddie opened the gate with his teeth again and wandered off down the road,
headed for the wash. It had been storming again in the Whetstones. Mommy said,
'You'd better go after Eddie. The flood will be coming down the wash this
afternoon and if Eddie gets caught, he’ll get washed right down into the
river.'
'Aw, Eddie can swim,' said Stevie.
'Sure he can, but not in a flash flood. Remember what happened to Durkin's
horse last year.'
'Yeah,' said Stevie, wide-eyed. 'It got drownded. It even went over the
dam. It was dead.'
'Very dead,' laughed Mommy. 'So you scoot along and bring Eddie back. But
remember, if there's any water at all in the wash, you stay out of it. And if
any water starts down while you're in it, get out in a hurry.'
'Okay Mommy.'
So Stevie put on his sandals—there were too many stickers on the road to go
barefoot—and went after Eddie. He tracked him carefully like Daddy showed him—
all bent over—and only had to look twice to see where he was so he'd be sure
to follow the right tracks. He finally tracked him down into the wash.
Burro Eddie was eating mesquite beans off a bush across the wash from The
Dark. Stevie held out his hand and waggled his fingers at him.
'Come on, Eddie. Come on, old feller.'
Eddie waggled his ears at Stevie and peeked out of the corner of his eyes,
but he went on pulling at the long beans, sticking his teeth way out so the
thorns wouldn't scratch his lips so bad. Stevie walked slow and careful toward
Eddie, making soft talk real coaxing-like and was just sliding his hand up
Eddie's shoulder to get hold of the ragged old rope around his neck when Eddie
decided to be scared and jumped with all four feet. He skittered across to the
other side of the wash, tumbling Stevie down on the rough, gravelly sand.
'Daggone you, Eddie!' he yelled, getting up. 'You come on back here. We
gotta get out of the wash. Mommy's gonna be mad at us. Don't be so mean!'
Stevie started after Eddie and Eddie kept on playing like he was scared. He
flapped his stringy tail and tried to climb the almost straight-up-and-down
bank of the wash. His front feet scrabbled at the bank and his hind feet
kicked up the sand. Then he slid down on all fours and just stood there, his
head pushed right up against the bank, not moving at all.
Stevie walked up to him real slow and started to take the old rope. Then he
saw where Eddie was standing:
'Aw, Eddie,' he said, squatting down in the sand. 'Look what you went and
did. You kicked all my magic away. You let The Dark get out. Now I haven't got
anything Arnold hasn't got Dern you, Eddie!' He stood up and smacked Eddie's
flank with one hand. But Eddie just stood there and his flank felt funny—kinda
stiff and cold.
'Eddie!' Stevie dragged on the rope and Eddie's head turned—jerky—like an
old gate. Then Eddie's feet moved, but slow and funny, until Eddie was turned
around.
'What's the matter, Eddie?' Stevie put his hand on Eddie's nose and looked
at him close. Something was wrong with the burro's eyes. They were still big
and dark, but now they didn't seem to see Stevie or anything—they looked
empty. And while Stevie looked into them, there came a curling blackness into
them, like smoke coming through a crack and all at once the eyes began to see
again. Stevie started to back away, his hands going out in front of him.
'Eddie,' he whispered. 'Eddie, what's the matter?' And Eddie started after
him—but not like Eddie—not with fast feet that kicked the sand in little
spurts, but slow and awful, the two legs on one side together, then the two
legs on the other side—like a sawhorse or something that wasn't used to four
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legs. Stevie's heart began to pound under his T-shirt and he backed awayfaster. 'Eddie, Eddie,' he pleaded. 'Don't, Eddie. Don't act like that. Begood. We gotta go back to the house.'
But Eddie kept on coming, faster and faster, his legs getting looser so
they worked better and his eyes staring at Stevie. Stevie backed away until he
ran into a big old cottonwood trunk that high water brought down after the
last storm. He ducked around in back of the trunk. Eddie just kept on dragging
his feet through the sand until he ran into the trunk too, but his feet kept
on moving, even when he couldn't go any farther. Stevie put out one shaky hand
to pat Eddie's nose. But he jerked it back and stared and stared across the
tree trunk at Eddie. And Eddie stared back with eyes that were wide and shiny
like quiet lightning. Stevie swallowed dryness in his throat and then he knew.
'The Dark!' he whispered. 'The Dark. It got out. It got in Eddie!'
He turned and started to run kitty-cornered across the wash. There was an
awful scream from Eddie. Not a donkey scream at all, and Stevie looked back
and saw Eddie—The Dark—coming after him, only his legs were working better now
and his big mouth was wide open with the big yellow teeth all wet and shiny.
The sand was sucking at Stevie's feet, making him stumble. He tripped over
something and fell. He scrambled up again and his hands splashed as he
scrambled. The runoff from the Whetstones was coming and Stevie was in the
wash!
He could hear Eddie splashing behind him. Stevie looked back and screamed
and ran for the bank. Eddie's face wasn't Eddie any more. Eddie's mouth looked
full of twisting darkness and Eddie's legs had learned how a donkey runs and
Eddie could outrun Stevie any day of the week. The water was coming higher and
he could feel it grab his feet and suck sand out from under him every step he
took.
Somewhere far away he heard Mommy shrieking at him, 'Stevie! Get out of the
wash!'
Then Stevie was scrambling up the steep bank, the stickers getting in his
hands and the fine silty dirt getting in his eyes. He could hear Eddie coming
and he heard Mommy scream, 'Eddie!' and there was Eddie trying to come up the
bank after him, his mouth wide and slobbering.
Then Stevie got mad. 'Dern you, old Dark!' he screamed. 'You leave Eddie
alone!' He was hanging onto the bushes with one hand but he dug into his
pocket with the other and pulled out his pocket piece. He looked down at
it—his precious pocket piece—two pieces of popsicle stick tied together so
they looked a little bit like an airplane, and on the top, lopsided and
scraggly, the magic letters INRI. Stevie squeezed it tight, and then he
screamed and threw it right down Eddie's throat—right into the swirling nasty
blackness inside of Eddie.
There was an awful scream from Eddie and a big bursting roar and Stevie