Book III: The Tiger

...In what distant deeps or skies, burnt the fire of thine eyes? 

On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire?

-The Tiger–William Blake 

Hoove dove at the ball, knocking over the vase full of dried flowers that sat in the corner by the fireplace. It made a sizable crash that brought both Joe and Maggy into the room. I guess Mag the Rag was a might more bothered by the whole affair than Joe. It was lucky for me that the phone rang just then and saved my tender ears from a world of abuse. Maggy stopped before her shout could make it between her teeth and turned to answer the ring.

“Hello,” she said while still staring a sour look into my and Hoove’s direction. “Mike.” Her hard jaw-line flipped into a smile. But the smile switched back to concern too soon after it came into play on her face. “Yeah, sure. I’ll get him.”

She set the handset down on the side of its box and slipped upstairs hollering after Chief the whole while.

Chief came down the stairs a minute later with Maggy close behind. “What does he want?” Chief asked her over his shoulder.

“I don’t know, but he says it’s important.”

Chief lifted the handset off the side of the phone and said, “What is it, Mike?”

“What!” Chief looked at Maggy and the rest of us (even Hoove was staring at him). Then he put a hand over the mouthpiece and said, “Excuse me, Maggy.”

She nodded and left the kitchen. Chief turned his back to the rest of us and whispered into the phone. We watched his back, but couldn't hear a word. When Chief finally turned around, the look on his face stopped me cold. Chief hung up the phone and left the kitchen. Maggy stood up from the couch and met him in the hall.

“What is it?” she asked him. Why, is beyond me. It was more than plain to me he didn’t want any of us to know.

Chief looked at her with the same wild look. “I’ll be back in an hour. Keep the kids in tonight.” 

His eyes were on her, but I had the feeling he saw something else all together. And what he saw... had him scared. I didn’t want to believe Chief could be afraid of anything– but there it was... in his eyes. 

He finished up with, “If you need anything, I’ll be at the office.” 

Then he grabbed his gray flannel cowboy hat from the rack next to me and his blue-jean jacket from the hall closet and left without a word to either Joe or me.

Maggy came back into the den, I thought to finish her hollering, but “clean up that mess,” was all she had to say. She started back to the kitchen but stopped before reaching the step. “Joe, you and Kelly are to stay in this evening.”

“We heard,” Joe let her know. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, but Chief looked... troubled.”

* * * * *

Halfway across the street, Elly’s paperwork slid from her arms to fall on the hard-packed dirt of Main Street. A cool March breeze blew down from the mountains causing several of the papers to blow up at the corners. The sky was growing dark with heavy purple clouds lumbering from the west. The edges of the sky tinged watermelon-red in the west.

“Darn it,” she whispered under her breath. She bent to pick it up and found an extra set of hands at her aid. She turned to look into the intense eyes of her intended. 

Chief said. “What brings you out on a night like this?”

“This stuff does,” she answered, indicating the papers strewn at their feet.

“What is all this?”

“Well, if you must know, its all the paperwork necessary to organize a first-class wedding, which by the way, I’m transporting to your house where, once inside, me and your first born will commence plan–” Elly noticed Chief’s expression and the explanation caught in her throat. “Unless you have changed your mind about all this?”

He shook his head more to clear away the thoughts that had accumulated there, than to answer. “No, I haven’t. It’s just that...” Chief stopped. He glanced over at the Police Station. “Look,” he said returning to Elly. “Can we talk about this later?”

An unsteady, “sure," was his answer. Then Elly said slowly. “Just one thing,” she bent to retrieve the remainder of her papers. “Am I going to need to go through with the planning?”

Chief reassured her with a smile. “Of course. Go do that now if you want. It’s just that, well...I don’t think it will be as soon as I had hoped. Things...” he sighed. “Situations, might be getting in the way. I won’t know for sure until later.”

“What is it?” Elly asked. Chief read the worry in her eyes.

“Later, okay? I’ll know more by tomorrow.”

“So you want Maggy and I to work on the wedding plans?”

“Of course. I'd also feel better having you in the house tonight. I think I frightened my children earlier.”

“I can’t imagine,” answered Elly, the usual sarcasm back in her voice. She pushed by without looking up.

Chief grabbed her arm and turned her to face him. Startled, Elly looked up. Chief pulled her close in the evening chill. He kissed her hard, with passion, until the night’s chill melted in the space between them.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered into her ear. “I’ll not let anything come between us.” He kissed her again, then left for the Police Station.

* * * * *

It wasn’t ten minutes after Chief left that Miss Elly showed up, knocking on the door. Maggy let her in, and helped her with the bucket-load of papers she brought with her. They settled down at the kitchen table and started making plans for Chief and Miss Elly’s wedding.

From where we sat we could hear them scribbling out list after list, planning the cake, the music, the church, the flowers. Maggy offered up Chief’s address book for his share of people to come. Miss Elly had brought her own list of addresses. They had after it in the kitchen for close to two hours before deciding to take a break. At seven they came into the den bringing steaming mugs of black coffee with them.

“So what about the date?” Maggy asked Miss Elly after blowing into her cup. “We have just about everything else finished. We need the date to secure the church, order the flowers and put on the invitations.”

I looked up from the pup just in time to catch the look on Miss Elly’s face. She almost looked like she was about to cry.

“No date,” she said so soft I scarcely heard her.

“What’s the matter?” Maggy asked. “Something happen?”

“We decided to hold off on the date for right now,” Miss Elly said and looked at Maggy.

“Who did?”

“Your father and I.” Somehow I didn’t think it was really her idea.

“You mean Chief decided!” I guess Maggy didn’t either. “Miss Elly that’s not fair? How could he do that? How–”

“Something’s come up. It can’t be helped, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay.”

“Maggy, something happened today. Your father wouldn’t tell me. He said he’d fill me in later.” Miss Elly’s eyes cleared up. “Something terrible happened. I could tell by the look on his face,” She said to the air in the room. Then she looked square at Maggy, her eyes on fire, “Don’t judge your father, Maggy. If you could have seen–”

“I saw,” said my sister, the steam out of her voice. “You’re right. We’ll wait on the date. I just don’t... What could have happened?”

“We’ll just have to wait until he’s ready to tell us.”

They sat that way on the couch and took to talking about things, other than the hitching date, dresses and the like. It was when they started talking about what I was going to wear that I called it quits on the night.

I met up with Chief in the hallway on my way to the stairs. He looked a mess, reminding me of Coach Dobbs when they took Billy away.

“Hi, Chief,” I told him. “What’s the matter?”

He smiled, but I could tell he didn’t feel like smiling. Then he crouched down and hugged me. Real tight, he did.

“Hi, pumpkin. You going to bed?”

“Yessir,” I let him know. “All on my own.”

He glanced at his watch. “Still early. You feeling okay?”

“I feel fine. But if I hung around any longer listening to what terrible things Maggy and Miss Elly have planned for me to wear at your wedding, I may just be sick.”

He smiled at that. “They mean well, pumpkin.” He kissed me on the forehead. “Good night.”

“Put in a good word for me, Chief. Don’t let them make me look like a clown at my own father’s wedding.”

“I won’t.”

Hoove followed me up the stairs and into my room. When I went down the hall to brush my teeth, he followed me there too and waited by the bathroom door. His pink tongue slipped easily between his pointed white baby teeth as he panted and stared at me from the hall.

“What do you want, Hoove? You need your teeth brushed, too?”

I bent over and brushed my dog’s teeth. He kept licking the brush and his tongue got in the way of a proper brushing, but I think I did a fair enough job. After rinsing the baking soda off the toothbrush, Hoove followed me back to my room.

It was the end of March. The sheets on my bed were stiff and cold. I was glad I had mind enough to put on the flannel nightshirt. I never really liked wearing nightshirts, though; they twist up in the middle of the night and all but choke you to death. T-shirts were much more comfortable. But with the room as cold as it was the floor numbed my bare feet. Outside the wind blew hard enough to make its way through the crack left by TJ’s  baseball, last summer. I suppose it was better to choke in flannel than freeze in cotton.

Hoove was now big enough to jump on the bed all by himself. He did so and placed himself at my feet to keep them warm. Chief said he did that to guard over me. It made me feel safe, knowing he was there keeping an eye on things.

Especially since that was the night the dreams started up again...the dreams of the Dead Place and the tiger that hunted there...

I hadn't suffered through this nightmare in six months. Ever since Chief fought the tiger and locked him up in jail and I felt safe again. But now,  the Dead Place. Thick and heavy fog. A cold wind was blowing and whipping the fog in fluffy patches like cream cheese frosting on a layer cake. Only the dead crooked branches of the trees were able to rip through.The air,  so hard to breathe, made my throat burn. At first only the wind was howling, then high above my head I heard the bird and started to sweat, despite the chill. It was calling the tiger. I could hear him far away, growling in the distance.

The bird's cry shredded the sky. The tiger answered with a deep roar. The difference in pitch was jarring. Metal bars clanked as it slammed against them. Crash...Crash! It was caged. Then there was a loud scream of metal in the darkness and a wrenching as the bars gave way. A final twist of metal and the tiger howled with fierce triumph. Beyond the fog men were screaming, but their screaming was cut short.

The tiger was out. I heard him. I felt him. He was somewhere in the smoke. Somewhere just at the edge of the Dead Place. And he was coming for me. Far off men. yelled and dogs barked. But they were out of the Dead Place. They’d never find the tiger from out there. He was in the fog now… and he had my scent.

Branches that reached out of the fog came slamming down in the tiger’s path. The men and dogs were lost in the confusion. He was just past the first row of trees, now, but I didn’t wait for him. I spun on my heel and ran. Any direction seemed like a good one- any direction that took me away from... it.

I tore a path through, to the other side of the clearing,where the fog was thicker, thinking I might be able to loose the tiger. Patches of stale fog burning my throat. I needed a direction. I needed to get out of the Dead Place, before the tiger made me a part of it.

Somewhere ahead of me  I heard the words of the Preacher, as he screamed a sermon into the wind. I followed his voice, even though I knew what would happen. The dream had me in its clutches. I had no control- no real choices. But it was so real. Was it a dream at all? Or was I really in the Dead Place?

I an towards the Preacher until I was in another clearing. All around me the bare trees closed in. Their bark burned black. Preacher was sitting hunched over a fallen log and I turned to ask him for help.

“Preacher, sir…” I moved to tap him on the shoulder but before I could do it, his body turned to me. There was no head. It stood up from the log and pointed. I tried to scream but the fog  closed my throat and no noise came out. I looked up and saw Preacher's head stuck between the branches of a spindly tree.

“Evil Place!” screamed the head. “Evil!” it shouted over and over. Then it's bulging eyes fixed on me, “Go home child! We don’t want you here! It will get you too!”

I turned to run but the Preacher’s hands came up from beneath the ground and grabbed hold of my shoe buckles and I tripped head first into the slimy bloody mud. It smeared my face and clothes. Clotted hunks dangled from my hair. I gagged.

The bird shrieked  above my head. The tiger was coming. I tried to stand, but the blood was everywhere and was too slippery to get a foothold. The sound of the tiger crashing was getting closer-too close. And I was stuck. The last tree at the edge of the clearing broke and the tiger was just in front of me.

“One of us now,” cried the Preacher’s head from the tree. It sounded so sad. “You’ll belong to them now and to this Evil Place. All is forsaken.”

I turned and saw the tears run from Preacher’s black eyes as  the tree started to bleed from a hole set half way up its trunk just under him.

“Make a wish,” said the tiger in a breath, pulling my attention off the bleeding tree. Its eyes were burning coals. “Make a wish,” it said again and I noticed the meat clinging to its fangs. “Soon we’ll be one. I’ll have the power then to leave.”

It opened its mouth to feed....

I screamed– this time the sound made it past my lips and out into the fog. I screamed again, but the tiger didn’t move. Instead he smiled and licked the blood from the white fur around his lips. I tore off my shoe and threw it at him.

“Kelly!” It was Chief but he was so far away. Not in the Dead Place. The tiger laughed then. Swishing his tail back and forth and he readied himself to pounce.

“Chief! The tiger! It’s too bloody. Chief help me!” I screamed, hoping Chief could hear me.

“Make a wish,” growled the tiger again, moving back and forth in front of me, swishing his tail, like a cat tormenting a mouse that already knew it was a goner

“Kelly! This way!” Sam called out through the fog. “This way!”

I threw the other shoe at the tiger, hitting him square on the nose which started bleeding. The blood dripped down his snout and into his mouth.  Once free of the shoes, I dug my feet deep into the bloody ground. It was enough to free me from the Preacher’s hands. I spun in the opposite direction and ran out of the clearing. But the tiger was close behind me. He made his way more easily than I could, his sharp claws giving him better traction.

I ran toward  Sam. Behind me the tiger crashed through the brush, I could feel his hot breath on my neck, even though the air was thick and ice cold. My clothes were wet and my hair was dripping with sweat. I felt my Sunday dress catch and tear. Branches of the trees dug into my arms and legs causing them bleed and sting. One of the trees tripped me and again I fell into the mud.

The tiger was right there this time. His eyes on fire. Red. Blood red. He opened his mouth once more to feed, red bubbly spit dripped from its corners.

Before the teeth could come down around me, something growled from the woods. Then Hoove jumped from the bushes to our right. His own teeth clenched around the tiger’s thick neck catching in the tigers fur coat. Blood soaked through the red and blue striped hide. But the tiger was much bigger than Hoover. He shook my dog free, slamming him against a crooked tree. Then pounced on my dog and within seconds he had him in his own jaws. I watched as Hoover flopped between the tiger’s teeth. Blood sprayed from the dog’s neck until Hoove's head just hung from the side of the tiger’s mouth.

“Stop it!” I shouted. “You’re killing him!”

“Kelly!” Chief called from somewhere at the edge of the dream. There were other dogs barking, but they were still too far away to do Hoover any good. Still out of the Dead Place.

“Chief!” I screamed back. “Stop the tiger! He’s killing Hoove-”

The tiger turned with Hoover still clenched in his teeth. He smiled and gave Hoove another hard shake. Hoove’ s head went flying. It landed not three feet away from me with a heavy thud. I stared at it. Hoove’s tiny little white teeth poked out of his lips. His pink tongue between them.

I screamed. I kept screaming. I didn’t watch as the tiger moved closer. I paid no attention as  the tiger clenched me between his paws and started shaking me.

“Stop!” I cried. “Don’t touch!”

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