Richard Laymon - Tread Softly

The door behind her head swung open.

Rose, standing above her, grabbed one of the dog's kicking forelegs. "Let go!" she cried.

"Rose!"

"Let go!"

She opened her fingers, felt the teeth release her. The dog stretched its head up, trying to snap at Rose.

Rose was trying to pull it out of the car! Didn't she realize.

"No!" Alice yelled. The wet fur of the dog's back muffled her outcry.

It was half out of the car, and didn't Rose realize it would go for her? Alice wrapped her arms around its open belly, trying to keep the beast from getting out.

The body suddenly quaked as a thudding, crushing sound filled Alice's ears. The car rocked a bit. The sound came again. Again. Each time, the car swayed and the dog jerked and trembled.

Then it was motionless on top of her.

"Mom? Are you okay?"

As the body was dragged off Alice, she realized what the thudding sound had been — her daughter slamming the car door three times on the German shepherd's head.

What've they got him for?" Benny asked as a young man standing beside a guard shack waved them ahead.

Tanya smiled at the man, and drove slowly past him. "He's supposed to keep out undesirables," she said. "People who don't have any business being here. You get all kinds of crazies hanging around if you aren't careful. Flashers, rapists, that kind of thing. It's because there are so many women around. Every college has trouble like that."

"Really?" Benny asked.

"Sure. Berkeley had about a dozen rapes when I was there. That's one reason my folks were so eager to have me transfer down here and live with you guys."

"I didn't know that," Benny admitted. "I thought you did it just to help Dad."

"Oh, that was part of it, too." She swung into an empty space next to a VW van. "There were all kinds of reasons," she said. She reached for the spiral notebook and the heavy volume of Shakespeare plays on the seat beside her, but Benny grabbed them first.

"I'll carry them for you," he said.

Tanya smiled, and Benny felt a blush spread over his face. She really was so beautiful. Not as beautiful as Karen, though. He wished he could be home when Karen arrived.

He climbed from the car and joined Tanya on a walkway that led down the side of the parking lot. Not far ahead, he saw several buildings: some looked low and modern, all stucco and windows like his junior high; others were ancient, square structures of red brick. The buildings were far apart, separated by broad lawns with more trees than a park. In fact, Benny decided, the campus looked very much like a park. There were even benches. "This is nice," he said.

"I like it," Tanya told him.

"Better than Berkeley?"

She shrugged.

"Not as much?" he persisted.

"I don't know," she said. "I think I like this better. Berkeley was so huge, I felt lost. There'd be a couple of hundred students in some of my lecture classes. You know this Shakespeare class? Fourteen students. It's great." She glanced at her wristwatch, and groaned. "Cutting it close," she said. Instead of hurrying, she stopped. She nodded to the right. "My class is over that way. You'd better go on to the library without me, or I'll be late. I'll meet you there when class is over, so we can check out any books you want. Okay?"

"Fine."

She pointed straight ahead. "See the third building down? That's the library."

Benny flipped up his clip-on sunglasses and counted the structures. "The one with the pillars?"

"That's it. Kind of a dreary place. If you get sick of it, the student union's directly across the quad. You can get yourself a Coke or something. I'd better get moving." Benny gave her the notebook and the thick text. "Good luck," she said, and hurried away. She cut across the grass, walking quickly, her rump shifting inside her tight blue shorts. Then she waved and called out, "Steve!" A guy climbing the stairs of a distant building turned around, waved back, and waited for her. Tanya jogged forward to meet him.

Benny watched until they disappeared through a glass door. Feeling abandoned, he lowered his sunglasses into place and started toward the library. The few students he passed on the walkway seemed to be in no hurry. Apparently, they were between classes. A young couple was sitting on a bench, holding hands and talking. On a rise off to his left, a girl in shorts and a halter was lying on a towel, sunbathing while she read a paperback. A Frisbee landed near her. She ignored both the Frisbee and the shirtless guy who raced up and scooped it from the ground. The guy sailed it over Benny's head, and ran across the walkway to rejoin his friends.

Benny was glad that nobody seemed to notice him. He felt out of place here among these college kids, an intruder in their special world. He half expected someone to challenge him and throw him out.

A skinny, middle-aged woman in a pantsuit approached, scowling through her tinted glasses. "Excuse me, young man," she said in a sharp voice.

His heart quickened. "Me?"

"Yes, of course you. Which way is the administration building?"

"Gee, I don't know."

"You don't know," she said with disgust. "The administration building," she repeated, more loudly this time as if to penetrate his deafness or stupidity. "Weller Hall."

"I don't know him, either," Benny said. The whiny sound of his voice embarrassed him.

"It's not a he, young man. Weller Hall. It's the name of the administration building."

"Oh."

She huffed through her nose, and Benny eyed her nostrils, expecting snot to fly out.

"I don't know where anything is," he admitted. "Just the library and the parking lot."

"If I'd wanted the library or parking lot, I would've asked. I'm looking for — "

"Weller Hall," Benny interrupted.

"Are you being smart with me, young man?"

"No, ma'am."

"See that you're not," she snapped, and hurried off.

Shaken by the encounter, Benny quickened his pace. What was she, crazy? Couldn't she tell, just by looking, that he didn't belong here? Crazy old bag.

Crazy old bag. Somebody — Julie? — had used those words about the mountain woman. The witch.

Benny glanced back.

Gone! She was nowhere in sight. A creepy feeling scurried up his spine.

Probably she just went into the building back there.

But what if she is the witch? What if she followed us down from the mountains, followed us home?

As he climbed the steps toward the library door, he pictured the witch in the dark with her arms high, shouting her curse over the noise of the wind and rain. He tried to imagine how she might look in a gray pantsuit, wearing fashionable glasses, her hair fixed up. With a sick feeling, he realized she might look very much like the woman he'd just met. If only he'd had a better look at the witch's face.

"Don't be dumb," he said to himself out loud.

Then he took off his clip-ons and pulled open the library door. Carpet silenced his footsteps as he walked toward the circulation desk, where a young woman was reading. She held a felt-tipped pen. She wore a white blouse with a frilly collar, and had golden hair like Karen. Benny saw nothing threatening about her. She looked up as he approached, and smiled. "Hello," she said.

"Hi," Benny whispered. "Is it all right if I look around for a while? I'm waiting for my cousin. She's in class."

"Certainly. No problem. If you want to look at some magazines, the periodical room's over behind those stacks." She pointed to the right.

"Thank you."

"Help yourself. If you have any questions, I'll be right here."

Benny thanked her again, and walked over to the card catalog. Nobody else was using it. Except for a few students seated nearby at long tables, reading or scribbling notes, the big room was deserted.