“I don’t understand.” Doris watched her face. “Are you and Steve…?”
“There were probably other signs. I just didn’t know what to look for. How could I? And what if Matty’s not alone? What if he’s not the only one out there?” She looked away. “Pamela’s dead. Did you know?”
Doris nodded.
“And when he wakes up, I have to tell him…and tell him about the house…and the dog.” Athena fell silent. The breeze caressed her face.
“What will you do now?” Doris went on. “Where will you go?”
“There was a reason I stayed all those years. I just didn’t know what it was. He needs this place, needs to be protected, hidden…channeled.”
“And Steve? What about Steve?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe the kid could use a father.”
“I love Steve. I don’t know. I can’t think yet.”
“Christ.” Doris turned away. “You know, you and the kid, you’re welcome to stay with me.”
“Matty’s awake. I have to go to him.”
“What? How do you know that? Honey, wait up. I’m not too good on these things yet.” She hobbled through the trees. “ ’Thena?”
“…all right now, baby, I’m here…” Soft words drifted back, mingled with the whisper of the moving grains of sand.
“ ’Thena, who you talking to?” She toiled to catch up. “I don’t understand. Wait for me. ’Thena?”
But the other woman had already disappeared through the pines.
The beast moved stiffly, wobbling over the trail as though drugged. Fur had been scorched away to bright pink flesh in places, and the ban dages had blackened. One scarlet ear still oozed.
Head raised, the animal tested the breeze. It was there: the troubled and troubling scent of humanity.
And, yes, the boy.
Head lowered, paws scuffing at the sand, the dog shuffled along the trail toward the school building.
And the pines hissed faintly in the wind.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The author wishes to express gratitude to madge Spreng, captain of the Lindenwold Ambulance Corps, for her moral support and detailed advice. Heartfelt thanks also go to the historians and folklorists who have explored the Pine Barrens in their work, particularly for the invaluable information found in Henry Charlton Beck’s “Forgotten Towns of Southern New Jersey” series, in John McPhee’s
This is entirely a work of fiction, although based in part on the authentic folklore of southern New Jersey. The characters are completely fictitious, and most of the towns mentioned, if not wholly invented, have long since ceased to exist.
