Ken Douglas - Nightwitch

“ I almost ran over an old black woman coming off the highway. That’s why I ran the car off the road.”

“ Still think I’m nuts?”

“ I never said I thought you were nuts.”

“ Come on, Sarah, you’ve been in denial all night. The wolf, the bear, and now you’ll find a reason to rationalize the old woman. What’s it going to take?”

“ I’m sorry. I guess I’ll just have to poke my hands in the wounds and feel the blood before I believe.”

“ You might doubt, but when Thomas saw the risen Christ, he believed.”

“ His faith was a little stronger than mine.”

“ Okay, Sarah, have it your way. I can’t sit in the car and argue with you all night.” He opened the door and started to get out.

“ Wait a minute,” she said. He turned toward her. “Do you have something up there I can put on?”

He nodded.

She got out of the car, thankful she at least had her hiking shoes on. It was chilly out of the heated car and she was getting goosebumps again. She hoped it was only because of the cold. Following him up the path was easy going. She found she enjoyed walking through the forest nude. It made her feel free. And she was free again. She had no possessions. There was nothing to hold her down. She had the new job, but she hadn’t started it yet, so it wouldn’t be like leaving them in the lurch in the middle of a semester.

Her whole life she’d dreamed of traveling, of seeing the world, of walking in foreign lands, of tasting food she’d never heard of, now it was possible. Bangkok, Paris, Rome, Beijing, all hers for the taking. Maybe John Coffee had unwittingly done her a favor. Besides, it would be better for her to be away from these two small towns after what had happened between her and Miles. She would be forever running in to him and she didn’t want that.

And there would always be small town gossips, with small town minds, glancing at her and tittering away every time she went shopping or to the movies. And she didn’t want to have to start dating again. She could imagine what it would be like. Every man in town would know about Miles, and wonder what was wrong with her.

And most of all, she didn’t want the kids laughing and making fun of her behind her back. No matter how much they seemed to understand the other day, and no matter how much they voted their approval of her with their applause, and no matter how glad they were that she was moving on to junior high with them, they were still children. They would laugh. It was only natural.

And she started to think about the dessert she had offered John Coffee earlier. She had wanted to go to bed with him in the worst way. Watching him move through the woods in front of her, she was starting to want him again. If only he was a little more rational, she thought.

And what about that monster of his that could change from an old woman into a wolf, or a bear, or any damn thing it wanted. What happened to this dark man to get him to believe in such a fairytale? Still a wolf did come crashing through her front window, and there were no wolves in these woods, at least there weren’t supposed to be. And the grizzly in the road. How could she explain that? She couldn’t, but neither could she accept werewolves or werebears or vampires in the night.

The breeze shifted, caressing her breasts and she found herself wishing it was his hands instead. I’m only human, she thought, and it’s only natural that I’d be thinking about sex. After all, I’m walking in the moonlight, nude, with a gorgeous man.

“ Can we rest a minute?” she said. She wasn’t tired.

“ Hey, Carolina, wake up,” Arty whispered across the gulf between the two beds. “It’s five-thirty, time to go.” He watched her roll over, rub her eyes, then open them.

“ Already?” she yawned.

“ I could go by myself?”

“ No.” She sat up and stretched, hands reaching for the ceiling. “I told you last night, I want to go.”

Arty had his shoes on and tied by the time she finished with the bathroom. He was ready to go and she surprised him when she pulled her nightshirt over her head, and walked over to her dresser, wearing nothing, but her panties. He quickly turned his head the other way.

“ For gosh sakes, Arty, there’s nothing to see. I’m only eleven,” she giggled as she pulled a sweatshirt over her head. “You can turn around now. I’ve got my shirt on.”

He turned his head.

“ Jeez Marie, Carolina, put your pants on.” He turned away again as she went to her closet for her jeans.

“ Okay, I’m dressed, except for my shoes, so maybe you better not turn around yet,” she giggled.

“ It’s not funny, Carolina.”

“ Okay, I’m sorry. I was just having a little fun. Don’t be a big stick in the mud.”

“ This is serious stuff, Carolina.”

“ Sorry.”

“ If you’re gonna come, you gotta be quiet and careful or we both might get dead.”

“ What if it doesn’t work?” she asked again.

“ Then we’ll probably both get dead anyway, so we gotta try.” He was halfway out before she was finished with her shoes, but he was having trouble finding the plastic milk crate with his foot.

“ What’s the matter?”

“ The crate’s gone,” he said, letting go and jumping down.

“ Who could have moved it?” Carolina whispered as Arty helped her to the ground.

“ Who do you think?”

“ Anybody could have come in here and moved it,” she said.

“ Sure,” he said, because he knew who’d moved the crate.

He led the way on his hands and knees, scooting through the bushes. He wished he had a flashlight, because he wanted to explore all the dark places between the two houses and see if he could spot the milk crate. The hair on the back of his neck stood up when he thought that maybe the wolf was back there with them, hiding in the bushes back by the fence. Watching and waiting. He felt better when he cleared the bushes and was standing up on the dew damp front lawn.

“ Ouch,” Carolina said and Arty jumped.

“ What?”

“ I scratched my hand,” she said as he helped her up.

“ Is it bleeding?” he asked.

“ I don’t think so. I wish they’d fix that streetlight, then I’d be able to see.”

Arty looked up and down the block. “I didn’t notice before,” he said, “but the only two lights working on your street are the ones at the corners. The two in the middle are out.”

“ Yeah,” she said, “it’s kinda spooky. I wish they would hurry up and fix them.”

“ Streetlights are never out more than a day. And you never see more than one out on a street. I oughtta know. When a light blows they fix it the next day, or the day after at the very latest. They’re real good about that. These lights have been off for three days.”

“ What are you saying?”

“ They were off Monday night, so they would’ve fixed ’em Tuesday or yesterday.”

“ Maybe they didn’t fix them?”

“ They fixed ’em. They never miss.”

“ Then why aren’t they working?”

“ The wolf lady,” he said.

“ The wolf lady,” she repeated.

“ Yeah.”

Carolina shivered and took Arty’s hand, a gesture that only a few days ago would have set his young heart thumping, but now seemed natural as rain. They drew strength and courage from each other as they walked the early morning streets toward his house.

“ There it is,” Arty said, pointing to a white house with a detached garage.

“ My papers aren’t here yet, so we’ll make the shells first.” He led her into the garage and turned on the light.

“ Kinda cold,” she said.

“ I got an extra jacket you can wear when we finish here.”