“I’m projecting again,” Ricky said to himself as he looked at George’s window.
# # #
By the time his brother let himself in, Ricky had forgotten that he had invited George over.
“That path is treacherous,” George said. “I almost fell in the creek.”
He took off his coat, tossed it on a chair, and then bent over to pull off his boots.
“Hey, George. Did you finish your writing?”
“Mostly,” George said. He kept his scarf on. Ricky couldn’t tell if he was wearing it because he was cold or because it was a fashion statement. Compared to their parents’ house, Ricky’s little cabin was toasty warm from the wood stove, so it was probably a fashion statement. Ricky almost told George to take it off and then decided that critiquing his brother’s wardrobe would probably sour the rest of the conversation.
“Well? What was so important that you couldn’t tell me at home?”
Tucker finally woke from his dream and went to put his head in George’s lap.
“So… Jennifer and Aaron’s wedding,” Ricky started.
George shook his head and swallowed hard. “So awful.”
“Yeah. There was some stuff that I didn’t tell you about.”
“I knew you were holding out. When we were at that vigil for…”
Ricky put up a hand to stop his brother. “Listen. I lost friends, and this is difficult for me to talk about, so just listen.”
Ricky started to tell the story.
The day had started out with such joy—watching Aaron and Jennifer get married and then a beautiful reception back at the hotel. Then, while Ricky was getting ready for bed, horrible things had happened to his friends.
By the time he got involved that night, everything was already too insane to comprehend, so he pieced together the narrative from before Nick had contacted him in his hotel room. It all started with one missing friend and the terrible choices they made when they went to look for him. Ricky couldn’t help but blame himself.
“Why?” George asked.
“Because I should have taken things more seriously. I had no business walking around through those woods near the train tracks.”
“But you found him. You brought him back. It sounds like the hospital was to blame for not keeping track of Riley.”
“You haven’t heard half of the story yet,” Ricky said. He told his brother how the creatures had systematically invaded the hotel, picking off victims from the people staying there.
Ricky didn’t have to convince his brother that he wasn’t lying or simply crazy when he talked about the weird monsters. The brothers had been through another bizarre tragedy years before. They would never doubt each other, regardless of how unlikely the story.
George’s expression grew very serious as he learned about the real fate of Jennifer, Aaron, Nick, and Riley.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me any of this,” George said, glancing towards the window. The lights from the cabin spilled onto a rectangular patch of snow. Beyond that, the woods were dark and deep. Anything could be lurking out there.
“I had reasons—that’s kinda where the Harpers come into the story,” Ricky said. “They won’t talk about any of this stuff around here, and they have a pretty good reason.”
George squirmed in his seat.
“I told you that they’ve been through something similar to what happened to us. Similar isn’t the right word.”
“In the same inconceivable genre?” George asked.
Ricky thought about it and then nodded.
“Yeah. That’s a better way to put it. Anyway, they’re convinced that the monsters that they were dealing with have this essence about them, so you can’t talk about them.”
“Can’t or shouldn’t?”
“You’re right—shouldn’t,” Ricky said.
“Intrusive attractors,” George said.
“Sorry?”
“It’s a thing I was reading about. There are people who believe that there are demons out in the world that will be drawn to them if they think or speak about them. It’s a delusion that’s really difficult to treat with talk therapy. The patient can’t express their concerns without exacerbating them, and it stymies therapeutic approaches.”
Ricky narrowed his eyes and tilted his head towards George—a look that was a decent imitation of their father—and said, “One day you’re going to lose the ability to communicate with us regular folk.”
George smiled.
“You’re saying that the Harpers won’t talk about their monsters because they’re afraid that talking about them will draw them back in?”
“Yes,” Ricky said. “That’s a good way to put it.”
“And that’s why you initially didn’t feel like you could tell me what happened at Aaron’s wedding?”
“Exactly.”
“But now…”
George gestured for Ricky to continue.
“But now I’ve done more research and I think that the things that attacked the hotel don’t follow that rule. Also, I’m convinced that they hibernate over the winter—at least around here—so even if they stray all the way to Kingston we’re safe for another couple of months.”
George nodded but still glanced at the window again.
“Relax,” Ricky said. “Tucker is here. If a squirrel moves outside, he will let us know.”
“You’re talking about the dog that didn’t wake up until I had come inside and taken my boots off?”
Ricky laughed.
“Let me show you what I found out about these things. I want to get your opinion.”
“Are you sure?” George asked.
“Am I sure that I want your opinion?”
“No, Ricky, are you sure we should go down this path?”
“Why?”
“You’re a curious person,” George said. “You like to muddle around with things and figure out how they work. You’re better at tinkering than you are at researching.”
“Thanks?”
“Lets not forget that your experimentation did nearly lead to the rise of a horrible techo-demon that tried to take over the world, starting with this town.”
Ricky furrowed his brow and tried to think of a rebuttal, but his brother continued.
“So, maybe there
