I watched Hoover from the front porch steps. After what happened to Mr. Mort on Monday, Chief wouldn’t let me leave the house. He wouldn’t even let me in the back yard alone. The front porch was the only bit of outside freedom I saw, and being kept out of school the whole time made it an even bigger waste. I was getting really jumpy with nothing to do and awfully, awfully bored. I wanted to run with Hoover to get rid of the feeling but couldn’t.

Joe brought home my class assignments each day after school and I did them with Maggy’s help. She took a leave from Anne’s to do what they call ‘tutor,’ or ‘home learning.’ Joe still went to school. Mike picked him up in the mornings and dropped him off. Men still guarded the school and one of them brought Joe home once school let out, just in case the tiger went after Joe before he came after me. But I didn’t think that would happen. Joe got himself out of the Dead Place all right. But I still couldn’t manage the trick. And lately I saw Mike there. In the dreams, he was in the Dead Place with me...

The dreams were growing darker– the fog more gray-blue than it’d been; the shadows even deeper. I ran and slid through the slimy mud with the tiger after me; I’d get a glimpse of it behind one of the screaming trees, only quick-as-a-jackrabbit it disappeared. Birdcalls and whistles circled me and were answered by more birdcalls ahead, meaning there were two tigers now. One behind me and one in front. Up ahead I heard Hoove barking fit to beat Holy Jesus. I knew what the tiger was fixin’ to do to him, so I ran on, even though I knew it was the tiger making all the bird noises. I ducked out fast behind a tree when I heard the bushes shiver to the right, and then I dove out of the way when I thought the tiger was ready to take hold of me, but it wasn’t the tiger. I looked up just in time to see Mike come out of the bushes. He looked fast at me, his hand reaching out like he’d done the day Sam died, only before I could reach for him a pole shot through the air headed right for his middle. I shot up in bed, sweat pouring down my face... and a sinking feeling in my guts.

So here I sat, alone on the front porch. I took the stick from Hoover and threw it again into the front yard. It must have been the thousandth time I done it, but Hoove still acted like it was the first. He ran and dove after it before it even hit the ground. At least I was outside with my dog.

The sun felt good shining on my face. The sky was bright blue with not a single cloud. The air smelled sweet, like the gardenias growing at the side of Miss Celban's. yard. In the house Miss Elly and Maggy did the last minute stuff for the wedding, coming up on Saturday. In Chief’s office, Chief, Mr. Mort, and Mike were digging through a bunch of papers that came in a box that Mr. Donovan, the postman, brought by before breakfast. I answered the door and saw the postmark. It came clear from Washington D.C. and had Mr. Mort’s name on it.

I gave the stick another toss just as Maggy stuck her head out the front door.

“Come on in, Kelly. Go wash up for lunch.”

“Yes, ma'am,” I told her and called to Hoove. He came running over the front lawn and up the porch steps, stick still stuck between his teeth. I took the stick away and set it on the windowsill, then we followed Maggy into the house.

After washing my hands, I met up with Maggy and Miss Elly in the kitchen. Maggy was tasting her soup a final time before serving it up to the rest of us; and Miss Elly was setting the table–for three.

“What about Chief and them?” I asked Miss Elly.

“I’m going to let you take them their sandwiches, while I bring their soup.”

“They don’t want to eat with us?”

“They’re awfully busy, honey.”

“Because of the box?”

“Yes. It has some information they think will help find your tiger.”

“Oh.”

Maggy finished laying out the sandwiches on a big plate. She turned and handed the whole mess to me.

“Be careful,” she said then went on, “You got that?” as she let go.

“Yes’m, I got it.”

I carried the plate to Chief’s office and banged on the door with my foot. I didn’t wait long before Mr. Mort opened the door.

“Here, let me help you with that,” he said and took the plate from me and set it down on Chief’s desk.

The room was a mess. Papers were thrown all over the place. Stacks of them sat in all kinds of different places: the couch, the desk, the floor (all over the floor) and the file cabinet. It looked like the jigsaw puzzles I sometimes worked on before I got them all together. I turned and saw a big sheet of paper taped to Chief’s wall. There were names scribbled all over it and lines connecting all the names together. 

Chief was in the far corner with Mike. He wasn’t wearing his uniform today; he wore a dark blue shirt and jeans instead. That made it feel more like a Saturday. But as hard as he was working, I’m sure it didn’t feel that way to him. He was busy scribbling on a sheet of paper and showing it to Mike, who was in uniform today, making the whole thing official. His badge flashed when it caught the light that leaked around the door. Then, they both turned to look at me, stopping halfway through their sentences at each other.

And that’s when it happened. I saw it… just like Sam…. Just like the Preacher. Mike’s face went dark as a shadow fell across it. I felt the blood drained from my face. I got stiff and couldn’t move. I got real cold and it was hard to breathe. I saw Chief looking at me out of the corner of my eye, but my attention was on Mike and the shadow from the Dead Place. The dream played over in my head.

“Something wrong, pumpkin?” I heard Chief say, just as Miss Elly came up behind me.

“Excuse me, Kelly,” she said. I looked up at her and saw the tray she had with three bowls of soup steaming into the air. She was trying real hard not to spill any of it.

I got out of her way and looked back at Mike, but the shadow was gone. I turned away and watched Miss Elly pull the soup bowls off the plate and set them on the desk.

“Well, eat up, gentlemen,” she said, then after smiling one for Chief, she left the room, leaving the door open for me to follow.

“Kelly?” Chief asked. “Are you all right?”

“Uh-huh,” I told him. “Chief, what’re ya doin’.”

He smiled. “Trapping a tiger, pumpkin. At least that’s what we’re hoping to do.”

“All this stuff’ll do that?”

He looked at Mr. Mort. “That’s what Sergeant Moss here believes. And I’m up to trying anything.”

“Oh. Chief?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Can I eat my lunch out on the front porch? I don’t like it inside.”

Chief’s smile got beat out by the sadness in his eyes. He gave me a quick nod and said, “Yes. But don’t leave the porch.” His attention sharpened. “I know this is rough on you, honey. But it will only be for a short while, I promise.”

“I know, Chief,” I let him know. “It ain’t so bad.”

I gave him a smile I had been saving up. He looked like he could use it. Then I left, closing the door behind me, without daring to look at Mike ... just in case the shadow had come back.

I went to the kitchen where Maggy and Miss Elly were sitting at the table.

“Chief said I could go outside and eat ... on the front porch.”

“That’s fine,” Maggy said. “I’ll get your lunch together.”

She stood up and put all my lunch on the same tray Miss Elly had the soup on and handed the whole thing over to me. Maggy followed me down the hall and opened the front door for me. I passed under her arm with Hoover following.

“Don’t let me catch you feeding that dog your lunch, either,” she shouted after me and closed the door. How she expected to catch me at anything outside with her being inside was beyond my power to follow.

I took the tray over to the front porch swing and sat down, setting the tray next to me. Across and down Main street I noticed Mr. Green sweeping off the front steps of his store. He looked up and I waved to him and he waved back. The street seemed powerful quiet. Not like during the summer when there was all kinds of stuff going on. I felt better knowing that summer was just around the corner.

I started in on the sandwich. Hoove planted himself right in front of me, looking up with the saddest eyes that could ever be; a body’d think we starved him or something. I tore loose a hunk of the sandwich and threw it at his feet. He gulped it up in one bite and started begging all over again. I threw him another piece as the screen door behind me screeched open. I thought I’d soon be hearing Maggy holler at me, but when I looked up it was Mike coming out of the door.

“Hey, Squirt,” he said.

“Hi, Mike,” I said, turning away so’s not to see anything that would make me sad.

“Mind if I sit down?”

“No, sir,” I answered, watching Hoove closely.

Mike came over and after moving the tray farther down on the swing, he sat.

“You want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“Nothin’.”

“Then why do you have trouble looking at me?”

I ventured a peek. The shadow wasn’t there no longer. 

“What happened in there?” he asked, nodding towards Chief’s office.

“Nothin’.”

“C’mon Squirt. Even your pa noticed. What gives?”

I looked at him for a long spell. He wore his dark blue baseball cap today. It was pushed back on his head and his hair stuck out around the bottom. His eyes were worried, about me, I suspect. But I couldn’t tell him ... it scared me to think of Mike in trouble... mixed up in my trouble. But then if I didn’t tell him, it would be like Hank all over again. I felt like I was going to cry. So instead I threw the rest of the sandwich into the yard and watched Hoover run after it.

“You’re having the dreams again, aren't you?” Mike finally said. He was watching Hoover in the yard gulping down the rest of the sandwich. 

“I ... yes sir,” I told him and faced him. He put an arm around me and pulled me to his shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay–”

“No, Mike, it’s not. I dreamt about the Dead Place ... again. Mike I saw you there.”

“And the tiger got me?” he asked. He didn’t seem half as worried about it as I was. Mike was brave.

“Yes ... I mean no. A pole did.”

“A pole?”

“Yes, sir. It come out of the woods headed right for you, I saw it fly ... Mike it...”

“What?”

“It was headed for your heart, but I woke up so’s I wouldn’t see.”

Mike smiled and hugged me tighter. “So you think it’s my turn?”

“Mike, I saw ... in Chief’s office ... I saw the shadow.”

“What shadow?”

“The shadow of the Dead Place. I saw it cross your face– just like it did to Sam-and the Preacher!”

Mike nodded. “I see.”

I pulled away to face him. I could feel the tears coming up and pushed them back down. Only they ended up getting stuck in my throat. “Mike, please be careful!”

“Don’t worry about me, Squirt,” he said, smiling at me. “I can take care of myself.”

“But be extra careful, Mike,” I choked out again, against the tears. “Please! It sees you.”

“I will,” he answered. “I promise, Squirt, I will take every caution necessary, okay? Please don’t fret over me. I don’t think I could stand having you torn up over me. You need only to worry about yourself.". He leaned over and hugged me tight so that I would know there wasn’t any reason to fear for him. It helped me get control of my tears. After a while I pulled away and wiped my face with the back of my hand.

“Are you going to be all right, now?” he asked. “Because if not, I don’t think I’ll be able to take it. It means you’ve lost faith in me, you know?”

I looked at him. There wasn’t a hint of fear in his eyes. I nodded, still wiping my face.

“Good." He gave me an extra big smile and kissed my forehead. “Don’t give up on us yet, Squirt. We’ll get you out of this. I promise.”

Mike got up and went back inside the house. I watched him go; he didn’t show a lick of fear in the way he moved. That tiger was going to have a devil of a time trying to bring Mike down, dream or no dream. 

I went back to staring at my soup, which tasted more like dishwater than chicken noodle. Hoove, not having had enough to eat just yet started in with his begging again. I set the bowl down and watched as my dog slurped up the soup in his long white muzzle.

He was halfway through with it when he jerked his attention off the soup to stare at the side of the house. I watched him cock his head from side to side like he was figuring on something of mass importance; a noodle dangled at the side of his mouth, stuck between two of his little teeth. It flopped right along with him. Then with no warning at all, he bolted off, running around the side of the house, toward the back.

I jumped off the swing and lit out after my dog. All I could see was the tiger shaking Hoove until his head fell off. I couldn’t let that happen. I turned the corner of the house just as he dove through the trees that lined our back yard. It took next to no time for me to run across the yard and slam through the trees after him.

I heard him barking up a ways and called for him, “Hoover! Hoove get back here!”

But his barking got softer and softer as he got farther away from me. I couldn’t give up so I stumbled along after him, trying to keep the barking in earshot. He was the best dog I’d ever had- the only dog I’d ever had. I was responsible for him- that’s what having a pet means. You take care of them (even if it does mean getting your backside blistered by Chief for your trouble). But it was more than that. I was too used to having Hoove around. I’d miss him following me along to go fishing at the hole. He had a funny way of stomping on the fish when you threw them on the bank. I’d miss his way of chasing butterflies... and his tail. I couldn’t let the tiger get him, so I ran after him, crashing into trees and through brambles. Thorns dug into my arms and legs and tried to snag the bottoms of my boots. The ground was squishy... soft and mushy...it was like... Oh, who cares if it was like that stupid ol' dream! Up ahead I caught an earful of Hoove’s barking. It was real far off now, but it gave me a direction and I ran on through the woods, calling after him.

The ground was covered with brown leaves left over from last fall. They squished softly as I tore over them. The trees were for the most part bare; just the small red and green buds ready to bust open into new leaves once Spring was finally sprung. The branches looked sharp, black, like the trees from my dreams...dead black...the wind clicked the branches together all around me. I started to shiver, feeling alone; all a sudden it felt wrong to be out here. My bangs stuck to my forehead where the sweat was pouring down the sides of my face. But Hoove was up ahead...somewhere. Only now I couldn’t hear him.

I stopped running to catch my breath. I was getting dizzy for want of air and fear was boiling up in the pit of my stomach. There was no noise now, except for the banging of my heart against my chest. All around me the trees seemed to grow larger and sway, like they were moving… moving in. Their bark, black as a witch’s cat; charred branches reaching out. It was in here. I could feel it...watching...

I walked away from where I thought I heard a noise. Slow-like. Then I heard it again, but it was behind me now. The leaves rustled on the ground. I whipped around to catch sight of what was coming, but saw nothing even though I could still feel it. I moved away again, slowly. The trees specked red!

I saw it! A flash of color that didn’t belong to the woods. I tore off along a deer path. Above me in the trees a bird screeched. It dove off it’s branch and flew out at me, diving low before shooting towards the sky again, all the while calling the tiger–telling the tiger where I was. After several minutes I stumbled into another clearing. Large trees, wider and taller than before walled me in. My heart thundered behind my ribs, blocking out the noise of the forest. My lungs burned from the cold air. I wiped the sweat off my face and tried to get my breathing steady and quiet my heartbeat. I needed to hear what was coming– by the time I’d see him, it would be too late. I managed, after several deep swallows of air, to calm my heartbeat and the noises of forest came back. A stick broke to my right about twenty feet away– I turned, but didn’t see anything, just a swirl of black and brown. I shot dodged left. Birds whistled, but they weren’t birds. The calls were answered up ahead of me. I stopped short and dodged again to the left to put them both behind me.

I lit out in another direction altogether. I wanted very much to be home, but now I couldn’t tell where home was. All the trees looked the same. They were the trees from the dreams. I was in the Dead Place now. I was trapped. I could hear branches snap as the tiger moved in closer. I had no choice: it was herding me to the thicker part of the forest, farther away from anything I knew. I backed into another clearing surrounded by tall oak and cypress. The blue sky above was going grey, as though the colors of the day were slowly leaking away, leaving only gray, black and brown, the colors of death, behind. 

Brambles and briars caught on my face and arms, shredding my skin. Blood oozed outq from an especially deep scrape. I stepped wrong, with my mind off the trail and crashed into a maple, covered in sap. I grabbed its bark to keep from falling and turned quickly behind me. In the woods the tigers didn’t even try to be quiet. I listened as They tore through the woods along two different paths towards me, staying just out of sight. Then all a sudden the noise stopped and that was somehow worse. The tiger would have me soon and nothing was going to give away where or when he’d claim me. Off in the distance I heard soft barks. Hoove was still out there, but the tiger was in my way of reaching him.

I turned my head, concentration get on the sounds. Across the clearing a cricket chirped and fell silent. I heard footfalls in the soft dirt coming closer, slowly, pacing... stalking. The trees danced above my head, in the breezes their branches clicked like swordsmen. A ground fog was brewing, and the white veil was seeping into the clearing from beyond the woods, like the Dead Place was leaking in, after the colors had faded. Then I saw another flash of red just beyond the trees.

I backed up against the maple. The tiger moved closer, but never came into full view. The red glided on the air between the trees, within the fog, not ever becoming solid like some sort of trick with the light. I backed up farther and a pair of hands grabbed me, sliding down from the tree itself.

© Copyright 2025 C J Driftwood. All rights reserved.