“Matthew!” She spun around. Another stone hit the dial of the phone, produced a broken ringing. The boy seemed not to have moved.
From outside, the muffled cry penetrated the walls. And suddenly the air was full of objects.
The phone pulled from her hand, yanked to the end of its cord, then slammed back and struck her on the side of the neck. As she yelled, stones flew and the table overturned. “No!” Dishes shattered all around the room. “What’s happening?” She cringed against the wall. “This can’t be happening!” The sugar bowl smashed against the sink, and she watched in disbelief as the pipes of the old stove began to shudder. Black dust dribbled down.
As though battered by invisible fists, the stovepipe wrenched away from the wall, and a century’s accumulation of soot cascaded, filling the kitchen, choking away the light.
“Matthew!” As the worst of the cloud settled, she saw the black dirt—still pouring from the ruptured pipe— slowly cover the boy’s body where it writhed and convulsed on the floor.
“You the one? The bitch that’s been makin’ all the trouble?” His face went a deep purple, the mouth very wet and red inside his beard. “Everbody look at ’er! She’s the one ’at killed a whole town!” His hands clutched into gnarled fists.
“All right now, that’ll do.” Out of simple habit, Steve forced authority into his voice. “Leave the lady alone.” Keeping one hand on the old man’s shoulder, he didn’t exactly push the shuddering frame but firmly held him down on the bench.
Though subdued, the grumbling continued. “You know what the price a meat is now the jackin’s over with round here? Ain’t no damn deers left. Place crawlin’ with stateys and everything else. Man can’t even make a living.”
A ceiling fan turned with infinite slowness, and strips of flypaper swayed in the corner of the Hobbston General Store. Candy and potato chips and a sparse selection of canned goods were ranged up and down the small aisles. A couple of barefoot kids lurked furtively in the back, while a group of elderly men hung close around the immensely fat woman at the cash register.
In a voice that strained after a reasonable tone, Athena tried to continue. “All we wanted to ask you about was…”
The old man’s one eye held a steady glower like a watery flame, and Steve could see he would start shouting again in a minute. “Athena, why don’t you go outside and check if the boy’s all right?”
“But I just wanted to…”
“I think that would be best.” He motioned her toward the door, keeping his voice low. “’Thena, this is pointless—he’s antagonistic toward you.” To quell her objections, he went on rapidly. “I can calm this guy down and question him, but I can’t do it if he’s yelling at you. Okay?”
“All right. Yes.” She glanced over at the pineys, knowing she’d made a mess of things again. The old man’s friends all muttered, and the fat woman looked miserable about having a cop in the store at all. “Get, uh, get some cookies or something for Matthew.” She began to fish in her pockets for money.
He patted her arm. “I’ll get something. You go on outside and keep him company.” She smiled and nodded, putting on her sunglasses.
He knew that the circles under her eyes meant she hadn’t slept again, and as she went through the door into the bright daylight, he sighed. Her behavior wasn’t hard to understand: simple hysteria, brought on by exhaustion, the aftereffect of all she’d been through, all they’d both been through. That’s all it was. She’d get over it. In the meantime, he was stuck with questioning this geezer.
They’d spent all morning searching for him, banging on the doors of shacks and asking questions, Athena reasoning that if anyone could explain what was going on, the oldest living resident of Munro’s Furnace should be able to. However, like so many of his neighbors, old Dan had already vanished. Finally, they’d traced him to a nearby town. Preparing to interview him, Steve shook his head and sighed. When would Athena realize it was over? He blamed the books he’d showed her when Barry died. He must have been near the breaking point himself to bring such madness into their lives.
She considered moving the car into the shade, then realized Steve had the keys. She didn’t want to go back into the store for them, didn’t want to interrupt his interrogation of the old man, even though she knew he was only doing it to humor her.
She looked around. By the door to the shop stood a rusting Coke machine that obviously hadn’t worked in years. Trying to make out the words of a nearby sign, where yellow letters flaked and curled from a mildewed background, she finally deciphered kerosene. Pure heat seeped into the car, actually making it hard to breathe, and she leaned out the window. The little town looked deserted, drowned by the impossibly bright sunlight. But these days, even at noon, she could still feel the approaching night.
Across the seat from her, Matty hung out the window. She watched him. Since his…seizure…the previous evening, he’d been almost comatose, barely mumbling to himself. Up until that point, he’d been doing so well, so really well, even beginning to talk to her. She couldn’t bear it.
The boy’s T-shirt had hiked up, exposing the tanned small of his back. Halfway out the window, he stared down at the sand, waving his fingers vaguely. He glanced up, his face lighting with wonder as a red bird flashed above the square.
He continued to stare upward, squinting hard at the shapes of tumbling clouds. This one looked like a dog, just like Dooley—he could see the open mouth and the tail. And this one was…this one was…
His face darkened with recognition as he saw the lumpish mimicry of great leathery wings. He shut his eyes before he had to see its face.
“You need two things to go out in them woods these days—a automatic weapon and a damn good reason.” Steve could feel his headache returning as old Dan rambled, repeating himself, contradicting himself, one minute insisting there was nothing in the woods, the next swearing he’d seen the monster. The few yellow butts of his teeth looked soft, like kernels of corn. “She’s the one to see, all right, like I said.”
“Could you repeat that last part? Who is this now?” “What’s the matter? Don’t you hear good? Mother Jenks, I’m talking about. She got a shack about a quarter mile or two south a Munro’s Hole.” He grinned at his buddies. “That’s what us old-timers calls it.”
“And who is this woman again?”
“I told you wunst already. Midwife—been working these parts more’n eighty year, they say. Hell, she’s older’n me even.” At this, he chuckled and rubbed his rheumy eyes with a crooked knuckle. “She knows everything about everybody round here. Brought most of them into the world. Maybe she’ll tell you what you wanna know. Maybe and maybe not too. You and that bitch—no offense—but if it hadn’t been for her, Lonny’d still be alive. I knowed him since he was a little boy. And Wally too. You better watch yourself.” He nudged the fat woman. “Yeah, Mother Jenks’ll answer you. Course you liable to be sorry you asked. I can remember…”
His words were suddenly drowned out. From outside came violent bellowing, a dull pounding. Steve’s mouth dropped open; then he ran for the door.
Doubled fists hammered at the car windows. The big man’s face twisted with rage as he belched out an incoherent stream of filth.
“Hey, you!” Steve yelled, barreling out of the store. “What the devil…?”
The man leaped up on the car, ran across the hood. Jumping down, he raced across the town square without looking back. In the mummifying heat, Steve began to give chase, then stopped, panting, and ran back to the car.
“Athena! Are you all right?” The doors were locked, the windows rolled tight. Inside, she hugged the boy. “’Thena?” He called again and rapped on the window. Behind the dark glasses, her eyes might have been closed. He
