face looked troubled, and I began to catch on. “One of those orange lights you warned me about?”
“Right.”
“When you see these anomalies, do they ripple like dark fire?”
“Yeah…” he said. “You’ve seen them, too, haven’t you?” As he spoke, he walked to the kitchen window and put the knife down on the counter. He leaned over the sink and stared outside into the darkness, mumbling something about crazy mofos and shadows.
“Jacqueline, are you still here?” I asked aloud. “If you are, then don’t go outside.”
“Is she in here somewhere?” Cartoon asked.
“Maybe.”
Cartoon looked confused again. But he soon got over it and continued staring outside. I understood the situation better now. He hadn’t come in here to rob the place. He’d come in to hide. There was something out there, and he was scared to death of it.
I felt a stealthy presence at my side. I could feel Jacqueline’s body warmth, and a prickling sensation alongthe hairs of my arm. It was an odd sensation. I thought that this was what it must feel like to be haunted by a ghost.
“What the hell is going on?” she whispered near my ear.
“I should have brought a gun,” Cartoon said. “Some people say it’s bad to do that. Some say guns only attract the Beast. But I think a gun might help.”
“Tell me about the Beast.”
He glanced back at me and shrugged. “Nobody knows much. Except maybe for that detective you were talking to tonight. He seems to show up every time someone gets eaten.”
“Are you sure it’s a living thing? Like a monster with a mouth?”
“No, but it acts like that. Like a dragon, or something. Almost every night now someone is taken. Sometimes, the Beast spits out the bones and leaves them out on the street.”
“Does it come into houses?”
“I don’t think so. That’s why I’m in here.”
Jacqueline tapped at my back. My vision faded in flashes, then came back again. I looked down toward where she must be standing.
“Can’t you get rid of him?” she hissed in my ear. “Use your gun.”
I shook my head. I had no plans to do so. Cartoon was giving me valuable information. And I wasn’t about to throw him into the streets while something stalked outside.
Instead, I walked into the kitchen and stood beside the big man, staring out into the night. “You can stay here, man,” I said. “As long as it takes to feel safe.”
“Thanks, that’s totally cool of you.”
I thought I heard a tiny huffing sound behind me. I ignored it.
Cartoon turned off his flashlight and kept his eyes on the street out front. I stood beside him, and we talked in quiet voices. It gave me a creepy feeling to stand there, watching for a monster I’d never seen. I felt a surge of superstitious dread—not so superstitious in this case, I reminded myself. It made my neck tingle. I wondered how many times in the old days men had stood in the dark, watching the night, suspecting danger lurked outside.
“Is your girlfriend here?” Cartoon asked a few minutes later. “Is she like…some kind of ghost?”
“Yes and yes,” Jacqueline said. She appeared then, standing quite close to me.
Cartoon jumped as if the Beast itself had yawned beside him.
“Only,” Jacqueline went on, “he’s not really my boyfriend.”
“Is there something in your fridge?” I asked Jacqueline. “Besides cat food, I mean?”
Jacqueline offered us soft drinks, and we helped ourselves. She stayed out of Cartoon’s reach, and he treated her with equal respect. I’d seen this sort of behavior before, when people who knew a little about the objects met up with one another. The gangster knew the fantastic was now occasionally real, but he wasn’t sure enough of his knowledge to challenge others. He simply avoided them and the subject. He did not want to offend those whom he didn’t understand. I felt it was a wise policy on his part.
“This is silly,” Jacqueline said several minutes later. “I’m going
“Right.”
“When you see these anomalies, do they ripple like dark fire?”
“Yeah…” he said. “You’ve seen them, too, haven’t you?” As he spoke, he walked to the kitchen window and put the knife down on the counter. He leaned over the sink and stared outside into the darkness, mumbling something about crazy mofos and shadows.
“Jacqueline, are you still here?” I asked aloud. “If you are, then don’t go outside.”
“Is she in here somewhere?” Cartoon asked.
“Maybe.”
Cartoon looked confused again. But he soon got over it and continued staring outside. I understood the situation better now. He hadn’t come in here to rob the place. He’d come in to hide. There was something out there, and he was scared to death of it.
I felt a stealthy presence at my side. I could feel Jacqueline’s body warmth, and a prickling sensation alongthe hairs of my arm. It was an odd sensation. I thought that this was what it must feel like to be haunted by a ghost.
“What the hell is going on?” she whispered near my ear.
“I should have brought a gun,” Cartoon said. “Some people say it’s bad to do that. Some say guns only attract the Beast. But I think a gun might help.”
“Tell me about the Beast.”
He glanced back at me and shrugged. “Nobody knows much. Except maybe for that detective you were talking to tonight. He seems to show up every time someone gets eaten.”
“Are you sure it’s a living thing? Like a monster with a mouth?”
“No, but it acts like that. Like a dragon, or something. Almost every night now someone is taken. Sometimes, the Beast spits out the bones and leaves them out on the street.”
“Does it come into houses?”
“I don’t think so. That’s why I’m in here.”
Jacqueline tapped at my back. My vision faded in flashes, then came back again. I looked down toward where she must be standing.
“Can’t you get rid of him?” she hissed in my ear. “Use your gun.”
I shook my head. I had no plans to do so. Cartoon was giving me valuable information. And I wasn’t about to throw him into the streets while something stalked outside.
Instead, I walked into the kitchen and stood beside the big man, staring out into the night. “You can stay here, man,” I said. “As long as it takes to feel safe.”
“Thanks, that’s totally cool of you.”
I thought I heard a tiny huffing sound behind me. I ignored it.
Cartoon turned off his flashlight and kept his eyes on the street out front. I stood beside him, and we talked in quiet voices. It gave me a creepy feeling to stand there, watching for a monster I’d never seen. I felt a surge of superstitious dread—not so superstitious in this case, I reminded myself. It made my neck tingle. I wondered how many times in the old days men had stood in the dark, watching the night, suspecting danger lurked outside.
“Is your girlfriend here?” Cartoon asked a few minutes later. “Is she like…some kind of ghost?”
“Yes and yes,” Jacqueline said. She appeared then, standing quite close to me.
Cartoon jumped as if the Beast itself had yawned beside him.
“Only,” Jacqueline went on, “he’s not really my boyfriend.”
“Is there something in your fridge?” I asked Jacqueline. “Besides cat food, I mean?”
Jacqueline offered us soft drinks, and we helped ourselves. She stayed out of Cartoon’s reach, and he treated her with equal respect. I’d seen this sort of behavior before, when people who knew a little about the objects met up with one another. The gangster knew the fantastic was now occasionally real, but he wasn’t sure enough of his knowledge to challenge others. He simply avoided them and the subject. He did not want to offend those whom he didn’t understand. I felt it was a wise policy on his part.
“This is silly,” Jacqueline said several minutes later. “I’m going
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