Mike looked up when the phone rang, pulling his attention off the two women who watched him rise to answer it.

“Broden residence...Yes, Chambers? ... You did?” Mike glanced at Maggy who was now standing by his side. “They located your father,” he whispered to her. Then he returned his attention to Chambers on the other end of the line. “Yes, Chambers? ... Both of them?” Mike smiled. “That’s good news.... What? .... He did? .... How bad?” Mike sighed. “I see,” Mike continued. “In about twenty minutes? ...Yeah. Thanks again, Sheriff.”

Mike replaced the receiver and looked at the two women. They had waited since the child’s outbreak for news. That had been over two hours ago. It was quickly approaching seven-thirty.

“They’re both all right,” Mike informed the women. “They’re headed straight home now. Should be here by eight.”

“Thank god,” whispered Maggy. She looked at Mike. “Then it was just a nightmare after all?”

Mike’s expression told her different.

“What has happened?” Martha asked.

“Chambers said that Mort had been hurt. He had some pretty impressive bruises about his face and neck. He said it looked like he had been strangled.”

“My word,” Martha said quietly. Her eyes turned to the floor as she contemplated the ramification. She felt heat in her temples, as worry seeped into her mind.

Maggy stared at him. “He’s biting his throat,” she whispered.

“She knows, Maggy,” Mike said quietly. “My god, she saw the whole thing.”

“They’ll be here in a few minutes. We should get supper on the table,” Martha suggested after regaining her equilibrium. “There’s no sense in speculating about this any longer.”

She addressed Maggy. “Your father and Meriwether will definitely be hungry by now, and I think we all need to keep busy until they get here.”

“That’s a good idea,” Mike agreed.

Maggy looked at her aunt, her thoughts turning to what would take place in just a few minutes. She turned to Mike. “I don’t think I could tell him, Mike.”

“You want me to?”

Tears filled her eyes as she nodded. Mike took her in his uninjured arm and she collapsed against him. He held tightly, giving her his strength. He stood solidly keeping Maggy from crumbling. Over her shoulder his eyes met Martha's and the older woman nodded.

She turned away and began setting the dining room table. Eventually Maggy was able to pull away and help carry items to the dining room.

Slightly after eight o’clock Mike heard Chief’s truck pull up in the driveway. The women had just completed setting the dining room table and laying out the meal. All three of them were now sitting at the kitchen table waiting. They heard the truck and the accompanying sound of the un-oiled hinge as the driver’s side door squeaked violently open before slamming shut. Soon the front door was unlocked and pushed opened and footsteps tapped their way down the slate hallway.

Chief was confronted by the solemn expressions of his family when he entered the kitchen. He glanced about the room, his eyes resting on Martha. “Martha, glad you could make it.”

But Martha merely looked at him, before turning to Mike.

Chief followed her gaze. “What’s going on?”

Moss had also entered the room. He looked  about with the same confusion that controlled Chief. His eyes eventually locked on Martha’s. A smile spread across his face.

“Why, Martha! It is a pleasure to see you again.”

Martha blushed slightly, but the action was overshadowed by the circumstances.

Moss also felt the over-all melancholy that permeated the room.

“Mike?” Chief said. “What the hell’s going on?”

“You better have a seat, boss.”

Chief felt upon the verge of panic, but he calmly took a seat next to Mike. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Kelly,” Mike said. He noticed the worry that played full in Chief’s eyes.

“What about her?”

“Chief...” Mike glanced at Maggy.“I don’t know how–”

“What the hell happened Mike?” Chief demanded, his voice forceful. “Just say it!”

Mike stared at him. “She went under.”

“What?” Chief asked, his eyes probing his deputy.

“She had a nightmare...” Mike glanced at Moss and the bruises around  his throat. Then returned to Chief. “She didn’t wake up. She went blank.”

At first Chief said nothing. He stared at Mike, his eyes fixed and the pupils hard. Then he took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. He could physically feel the dread, as the information seeped through his very being. His little girl was lost. Again. Chief sat staring at nothing, his attention focusing inward. His outward appearance was one of shock. The others in the room remained quiet. Politely letting him digest the information, to come to terms with it. It was a long time before he spoke. “Did you call Doc?”

Mike nodded. “She woke screaming at first, boss. We noticed a fever. At that time we didn’t know what was going to happen. We just thought it was like the other nightmares. But this time there was a fever. We called Doc because of that. But by the time he got here, the fever was gone...” Mike looked intently at Chief, “and so was the Squirt. Jesus, Chief, I’m sorry. There wasn’t anything anyone could do. It happened so fast. One minute she was screaming that Mort was in trouble,” Mike glanced at Moss. “She said the tiger was biting his throat.” Mike returned to Chief. “The next minute she was quiet. And blank.”

“What did Doc say,” Chief asked, but by now his attention was fixed on the tablecloth in front of him.

“He gave her an injection to help her sleep. He said she’ll either wake up fine, or it will be like last summer. He did say this could just be her way of dealing with the stress of the last few weeks. She just needed rest.”

Chief nodded, his attention remained focused on the blue and white squares in front of him. He turned sharply to his deputy. For a moment it looked like he was about to say something, but the words were held back. He glanced around the room and the faces that stared back. He turned away from them all once again. And again he fell into deep thought.

Chief abruptly pushed out his chair and stood. He regarded the others in the room briefly. “I notice supper’s on. His attention on Martha. He turned to Moss. “It’s been a long day and I’m sure everyone is hungry. I’ll just be a moment. I want to check on her.” Chief's voice was detached, as if he let the emotion in, he would no longer be able to control it. He glanced at them. “Why don’t you all start without me.”

Chief excused himself and made his way up the stairs. His daughter's room was dark. The feeble glow of the outside streetlights was barely enough to illuminate its interior. Chief detected the shape of his son, sitting in Kelly’s rocker. The boy turned when Chief entered.

“She’s like before, Chief,” Joe informed him.

“I know. They told me.” Chief put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go down and eat some supper, son.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I know. I don’t think anyone is right now. But we all need to eat. If for no other reason than to just be with each other.”

“But-”

“Go on, son. Tell them I’ll be along shortly.”

“All right,” Joe said quietly and removed himself from the chair.

Chief watched as Joe left the room. His step was sluggish, burdened by worry and sadness. Then he turned to his daughter who lay motionless under the covers. Before sitting at the edge of the bed, Chief reached over and switched on the bedside lamp. 

“I hear you had a rough afternoon, pumpkin,” he said, keeping his voice low. He felt all that he had suppressed earlier begin to flow to the surface. He let it come, not daring to turn it away or suppress it. He took the child’s hand in his own. It was so small. He was taken with how awfully small the child was. So vulnerable. Now she had retreated again. Was it because he had failed her? He felt his eyes become moist and wiped the salty tears away.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, pumpkin. I hope you can. I hope I can reach you.” His fingers squeezed the child’s hand as he brought it closer to him. “I just want you to know it will be all right. That you are safe... Baby, please come back. There's nothing here that can hurt you. I won’t let anything hurt you, I promise. Trust me, baby. And please... come back.”

He watched the child’s face as he spoke. There was no indication that he'd reached her. He was about to retreat when the small fingers clenched his. He looked down at them. Small and delicate. Fingers no bigger around than a child’s crayons. Again they clenched. Chief turned to face his daughter. Her eyes were still shut, but she turned slightly.

Chief brushed the bangs back with his unoccupied hand. There was no fever but the child was warm. Her brow was damp. He examined the bruise bestowed on the child, compliments of the spinster next door. Why had it taken him so long to realize how fragile the child’s psyche was?

“I’m so sorry, pumpkin,” Chief whispered. Again the child’s fingers pressured his own. Chief looked down at her. Her brow furrowed as she blinked herself awake. The light of the bedside lamp caught the blue of the child’s eyes. The effect was hypnotic. They appeared to glow on their own. The realization that she had come out of it took time to register on Chief, for he was so caught up in the effect.

“Chief,” she whispered, the word barely audible.

Chief swallowed sharply. He bit back his disbelief. He bit back his surging emotions, including the joy. “Yes, pumpkin?”

Kelly’s eyes locked on his. They were full of sadness. He saw their sheen in the lamplight. “I saw,” she whispered. The words constricted in a tight throat.

“What did you see, pumpkin?”

“Mr. Mort.” Kelly whispered and swallowed tightly.

Chief could feel his own eyes grow moist. The pain was constricting his chest. The war between the pain and the relief, and not wanting to be premature in that relief, fought inside his brain and heart. Was it so easy to lose her? That it could happen the minute he turned his back?

“What about him?” Chief kept his voice low, just above a whisper, fighting to control his own emotions, not wanting to convey the fear to his child.

“I saw...I saw the tiger get him.” Kelly’s eyes began to water.

Chief held back the words that would put her at ease. Better she talk it through, just in case this was what put her over. She fought to control the horror herself, pushing down her own pain. Chief could see that in her face...in her eyes.

“I saw the tiger,” she went on, once her tears were under control. “It had him by the throat... it bit... it bit,” Kelly’s hand gripped Chief’s tightly. “It bit Mr. Mort’s head off, Chief. I saw.”

Chief returned the pressure on the child’s hand. He took a deep breath and pushed his own emotions down. He regarded the child fondly. “It’s okay, pumpkin,” he whispered. “He’s okay. He’s downstairs. Would you like to go down and see?”

Kelly stared at her father. “But I saw.”

“I know. It happened, baby. The tiger did get a hold of him. But we got there in time. Mr. Mort is okay. He escaped the tiger. He’s downstairs having supper now.” Chief gave his daughter a smile. Where he found one to give, he had no idea. “How about we get you dressed and go down and join everybody? You hungry?”

Kelly stared at her father. His concern was not lost on her. “What happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“You look so sad, Chief. If Mr. Mort is okay, why do you look so sadly?”

Again Chief smiled. “I thought I lost you again, baby. You gave us all a scare.”

“You mean like before?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“I just remember the tiger's eyes. He came at me with those eyes. I tried to get away. It was after he did Mr. Mort that way.” Kelly looked at her father, deep-seated fear played in her eyes. “Chief?”

“Yes, pumpkin?”

“It’s going to get me,” she said quietly. This time there were no tears in the child’s eyes. She spoke with conviction.

Chief clenched down tightly on his own fears and worries about his daughter’s safety. He looked at the child intently, his eyes direct. He battled to put his own belief in his words. “Honey,” he said. “I will not let him get you. Please believe me. I swear to you. He will not even get close to you.”

“But, Chief,” the child said. She searched her father’s face before continuing. “Don’t you see? I can’t get out... It won’t let me go.” Kelly started to cry quietly to herself. “I keep trying... trying to shake the feeling, but I can’t. It won’t- It won’t let me.”

Robert Broden regarded his daughter. He felt her pain as well as his own. How did he expect to protect this child? Blackney called all the shots. The only answer was to send her to safety. But would the Dead Place follow her? What if she went under again? How does he protect her from that? 

“I’m afraid, pumpkin, that the only way we’ll get you out of this is to get the tiger. Please believe me when I tell you, we will get him. I swear...” Chief said with every ounce of conviction he could dredge up, “...that I will get you out of this.” Chief took a deep breath. His eyes held his daughter’s. “We will all come out of this all right.”

To his amazement the child smiled. The fear was absent. “I love you, Daddy,” she said. “I know you’ll get him. Don’t feel so badly about things.”

Chief felt lighter. “You hungry, pumpkin?”

“Yes sir. I’m starving!”

Chief laughed gently to himself. He shook his head at the child who was also laughing. “Come here,” he said.

She sat up in bed and leaned into her father who held her tightly. All the tension of the last half-hour washed away as he embraced his daughter. He could feel her strength and her trust in him. For a brief moment he felt invincible. He could take on the tiger. He hugged his daughter until she let go on her own.

“We can go down now, Chief,” Kelly said, letting her father go.

Chief smiled at her. He retrieved the child’s overalls from the back of the rocker. Once she was dressed, he led her down the stairs and into the dining room, among the hopeful expressions of the others.

© Copyright 2025 C J Driftwood. All rights reserved.