Graham Masterton: Revenge of the Manitou

“Different?”

“Well, I don’t know,” said Neil. “It looked as though he was wearing some kind of a mask, only it wasn’t a mask at all. He looked like an old man.”

“An old man? Are you kidding me, Neil?”

Neil held Toby close again. He could feel the boy’s heart beating against his own heart, a birdlike flutter. He said, dryly, “I wouldn’t kid you, Susan. You know that. I came in here and Toby had his back to me. He turned around and there he was, with this lined old face.”

“But I don’t understand. What do you mean, a lined old face?”

“For Christ’s sake, Susan, I don’t understand, either. But that’s what it was. He looked like an old man.”

Susan bent down and stroked Toby’s smooth, pale cheek. “I’m calling Doctor Crowder,” she said. “There’s something wrong here, and I want to know what.”

Toby said softly, “I’m all right, Daddy. I’m really all right.”

Susan took Toby from Neil’s arms, and cuddled him. He seemed so thin and bony and vulnerable in his blue-striped pajamas. She whispered in his ear, “Was it the bad dream again, honey? Is that what it was?”

He nodded. “I heard the man saying Alien again. I saw the face in the wardrobe. It was the same man that was by the school fence.”

“You mean the man you dreamed about was the man you saw at school? The same man?” asked Neil.

Toby, drowsy and heavy-lidded, mumbled, “Yes.”

“He had a beard and a hat?”

Toby said, “Yes.” His eyes were beginning to close now, and his head was resting heavily on Susan’s shoulder. After the emotional excitement of his nightmare, he was seeking refuge in deep sleep. Neil said, “Toby- Toby-don’t go to sleep-” but Susan shushed him, gently laid the boy back in his bed, and covered him with his comforter.

Neil looked at Toby for a while, and then went across to the wardrobe and gingerly touched the polished surface.

“I don’t know what the hell’s the matter,” he said. “Maybe it’s some kind of silly hysteria. Maybe Toby’s transmitting it to me. But I can tell you something, Susan, 7

saw that face tonight. I saw that face for real.”

“Did it look like anyone you knew?”

He shook his head. “I never saw anyone like that in my whole life.”

They switched off Toby’s light, but they left the door ajar and the light burning in the passage outside. Then they went downstairs to the kitchen, and Neil poured them both a glass of red wine. It was the only liquor they had in the house.

“I’m really worried,” said Susan. “It seems to be getting worse. And it doesn’t seem to sound like the usual kind of nightmare at all. I mean, he saw this man in the daylight.”

Neil took a large swallow of wine, and grimaced. “If you ask me, it’s a ghost. Or a poltergeist. Or whatever they call those damned mischievous spirits.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I don’t know what the hell I am. But all I know is that I walked in there and saw this old man’s face right on top of Toby’s body. It had wrinkles around the eyes, and a little black mustache, and those deep-lined cheeks that some old folks have. It was so clear. If I saw the old guy again, I’d know him at once.”

Susan sipped her wine and sighed. “I don’t know what to say. I believe you, Neil, and I believe Toby. But maybe it just isn’t what it seems.”

“Then what could it be?”

“I don’t know. But I think we ought to call Doctor Crowder in the morning. And Mrs.

Novato.”

Neil sat down at the kitchen table and took her hand. “Right now, I feel more like calling a shrink.”

Susan stroked the back of his fingers, briefly touching the worn gold wedding band.

“You don’t need a psychiatrist. If you ask me, Toby’s had a recurring nightmare, and because you love him so much, you’re kind of identifying with it. Taking the fright onto yourself, because you want to protect Toby.”

“I don’t know. Is there any more wine In that bottle?”

They drained the Pinot Noir, and then they went back to bed. It was almost dawn, five o’clock, and Neil lay there for the rest of the night without sleeping, staring at the ceiling. The Pacific wind began to warm, and the lace curtains stirred themselves, casting flowery patterns across the room. Could that really be true-that he was trying to take Toby’s nightmares onto himself? Or was there something really inside that wardrobe, and had that old-timer’s face really superimposed itself on Toby’s features?

At six, he almost fell asleep, but he jerked awake again. He went downstairs and made himself a pot of strong black coffee, and drank it looking out over the grassy wasteland that led to Schoolhouse Beach and the ocean.

The next morning, he parked the Chevy pickup outside the school gates and walked Toby up to the classroom door. Mrs. Novato smiled when she saw him, and they shook hands.

“Mr. Fenner,” said Mrs. Novato. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” said Neil. “I just thought I’d come along to make sure Toby was okay.”

Toby saw Linus, and tugged his hand away from Neil to run after him. Mrs. Novato smiled, and said, “They’re a couple of menaces, those two, when they get together.”

Neil gave her a quick, uncertain smile in reply.

“Mind you,” said Mrs. Novato, “I prefer boys with spirit. It’s the spirited ones who always do the best. Did you know that Senator Openhauer went to school here? He was one of the most disobedient pupils we ever had, or so the principal says.”

“Mrs. Novato,” put in Neil, uncomfortably, “I’m kind of worried about Toby. He says he saw a man here yesterday, out by the school fence, and whatever happened, that man scared the living daylights out of him.”

“He saw a man? Here?”

“Just before he fainted, he told us. Some man in a long, white old-fashioned duster coat, and a beard, and a broad-brimmed hat.”

Mrs. Novato frowned. Behind her, in the classroom, the children were running around and flicking paper pellets. She turned around for a moment, and called:

“Class! Let’s have some silence!” Immediately, the children were hushed. Mrs.

Novato always meant what she said, and if you disobeyed you got to write out the Pledge of Allegiance ten times.

She turned back to Neil. Thinking very carefully, she said, “I know Toby’s a truthful boy, Mr. Fenner. I never knew him tell him a lie. But I was out there when he fainted, and there wasn’t anybody in sight.” “He couldn’t have run off?”

Mrs. Novato pointed toward the fence. “You can see for yourself. It’s wide open for two hundred, three hundred feet. If there had been a man there, I would have seen him for sure.”

Neil rubbed the back of his neck and looked out across the hills. “I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem like Toby to make things up. He was sure that he saw this man, and he dreamed about him last night.”

Mrs. Novato laid a reassuring hand on his arm. “I shouldn’t worry about it too much, Mr. Fenner. A lot of the children have been having bad dreams of late. I think it’s become the class craze to have nightmares. Children are very psychologically suggestible, and I think they’ve gotten themselves into what you might call a state of, well, very mild hysteria.”

Neil looked across the porch toward the classroom. The children all looked normal enough. They were giggling and playing around just like ordinary kids, and they certainly didn’t seem to be suffering from any kind of collective breakdown.

“Have you talked to the school doctor about them?” he asked Mrs. Novato. “I mean, as far as Toby’s concerned, I wouldn’t like things to get any worse.”

“I can call the doctor it you like,” agreed Mrs. Novato. “But I think he’ll simply confirm my opinion that this is some kind of passing fad.”