Monster Lake

never been afraid of the dark before, not even when she was little. Only babies are scared of the dark, she told herself. Unless—

Unless…what?

Unless there’s really something in the dark to be afraid of, Terri thought.

She drifted in and out of sleep, tossing and turning. Every so often she’d wake up and, for some reason, look at her bedroom window, which was full of moonlight. The nightsounds throbbed on without letting up.

She tried to think about fun things. Like about when school started up again next month, about her lessons, and about boys. She hoped Matt Slattery didn’t have a girlfriend by then, and Marty Cadeaux too, even though he was kind of fat. In three or four years, she’d be old enough to go on real dates, and that would be fun…

But the more she tried to think of these things, the more she realized she was forcing herself to do so.

And the more she realized—

She was scared.

But of what, she couldn’t guess.

And that’s when she heard the sound.

Not the typical nightsounds. Not the crickets and peepers and the owls hooting.

This sound was different.

It was coming from her open window, and as she lay wide-eyed in the dark, she eventually figured out just exactly what the sound was:

Footsteps.

««—»»

Footsteps! Terri thought.

And right outside!

At first, she wanted to call out, but then she thought, Don’t be a baby, Terri. Maybe you just dreamed the sound.

But still…

She had to know.

Very slowly, then, she slid out from underneath the sheets and climbed out of bed. The only light was moonlight streaming in from the window, and the window was several yards away. Her bare feet padded across the carpet, through the dark. When she reached the window, she went down onto her knees. Her hands reached out. Her fingers gripped the sill. Then, very slowly, she inched her face toward the window screen, and looked out…

At first, she didn’t see much. Just the back yard, and the dark splotches that were the tall trees where the woods began. Between some of the trees she saw weird green dots that seemed to be glowing… Fireflies, she realized. Lightning bugs.

Then, as her eyes grew accustomed to the dark, she noticed—

Jeeze!

Strange shapes seemed to be jerking about in the back yard. She knew at once that they were toads, hopping around, looking for bugs. But—

They’re huge, she saw.

Her eyes must be playing tricks on her. She’d seen lots of big toads and frogs in the yard before, but never this big!

They were as big as puppies!

Then—

From the bushes, a baby rabbit hopped into the yard, then stopped to nibble some grass. Its ears poked up, its little nose twitched. But Terri’s breath caught in her chest, and she nearly squealed out loud when she saw what happened next.

One of the huge toads hopped toward the rabbit, seeming to move with astonishing quickness, its heavy rear legs flexing mightily with each hop. Terri knew that toads didn’t eat rabbits, not even big ones like this—toads only ate small insects, like flies and moths and beetles. But what frightened her was this:

In the streaming moonlight, the toad’s wide jaw snapped open, and sparkling inside its mouth were two rows of sharp, pointed teeth!

It’s going to eat the rabbit! Terri’s thoughts screamed in her head.

The hideous toad leapt forward several more times, its razor-toothed jaw opening wider. Each leap seemed a yard long—

Oh, no! Terri thought in sheer dread.

But just as the toad would pounce on its unsuspecting prey, the baby rabbit finally took notice, its head jerking aside, and it scampered safely away just in the nick of time.

Terri sighed in relief. It would have been horrible to have to watch that toad eat the rabbit. But then she stopped to think—

None of it made sense, it was impossible. One thing she was sure of: toads, no matter how big they were, didn’t eat animals and they didn’t have long, sharp, pointed teeth!

Am I dreaming? she considered again. She must be, to have witnessed such a thing. Outside, everything looked unreal, the grass like spikes of ice in the moonlight, the blinking green swirls of the fireflies, the cramped shadows between the trees, not to mention the monstrously large toads. But then she remembered the reason she’d gone to look out the window in the first place.

The footsteps, she recalled. I heard footsteps in the back yard. I’m sure I did. And they sounded like they were coming up from the lake…

Terri strained her vision then, focusing her eyes through the window screen, toward the rear corner of the yard.

crunch, crunch

She was right. There was the sound again, and they were footsteps.

crunch, crunch

There could be no denying it. Someone was indeed walking up the gravel path from the lake to the house.

And the sound was much louder now, which meant that whoever was walking—they were getting closer.

Terri bit her lower lip as she stared on, gripping the window sill. Only a moment later, a figure appeared at the entrance to the trail.

Who could it be?

She glanced warily at the lighted, digital clock on her nightstand—

It was almost 4:30 in the morning!

Terri’s breath grew thin. Her heart beat faster as the figure came out of the crisp shadows thrown by the trees and—

crunch, crunch

—stepped into the moonlight, fully into view.

It’s…my mother, Terri realized in shock. She’s been down at the boathouse all night…

««—»»

All night, Terri thought again the next morning at breakfast. What could her mother be working on that was so important she had to stay up till past 4:30 a.m.? And Terri could tell. Right now, coming into the kitchen, her mother looked exhausted, with drooping shoulders and dark circles under her eyes.

“Good morning, dear,” she said groggily.

“Hi, Mom,” Terri said. “You sure look tired.”

“I am, I was up late. Working.”

You’re not kidding you were up late! Terri agreed in her own thoughts.