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One, Two … I See You!

By Chuck Semenuk

                   Preface

“The more things change, the more they stay the same.”

How often have we heard these words? But, what about the evil that seems to lurk around every bend? Does evil change? Does it ever really die, or merely return when we least expect it? Creeping silently, it comes to us in forms that we can’t imagine and looks deep into our souls. Can we hide or will it find us, no matter where we are?

“One, Two… I see you!”

Lenore Conley contentedly sipped her cup of tea as she watched little Mariah playing in the back yard of her neatly kept home. Six-year old Mariah was her pride and joy. Mariah was very fair skinned and blonde while Lenore was darker skinned with thick, dark hair. Even so, there was little doubt to anyone who saw them together that they were mother and daughter. Along with the beautiful features of their faces, the most noticeable thing was their eyes. Almost cat like, they seemed to have the power to look inside of you, drawing you closer, seeing your most private thoughts even without a word being exchanged between you.

Lenore’s mother died giving birth. Other than that, she knew very little about her. She never knew her father. She was raised by her grandmother Nadia and a man she knew only as Uncle Nicolai. Nadia and Nicolai had once worked in genetic engineering for a major corporation. They weren’t thought of with any degree of fondness or respect by their colleagues. They were considered to be “genetic tinkerers” with few scruples. They were let go for being secretly involved with genetic experimentation that was considered by company management to be an abomination against the laws of God and man. By mutual agreement they left quickly and discreetly, avoiding unfavorable publicity for the company and themselves. Nicolai started a small clinic on the outskirts of the quiet little town of Brimwood where he and Nadia continued their genetic work in relative secrecy. Lenore was told that there had been some genetic “tinkering” at the time of her conception, and with her mother as well. Consequently, she was “different” from other women.

Lenore was not well liked by the other women in the neighborhood. If you were to ask them why, they would only look quickly away without answering. Lenore was ------- different! Although she seemed to be a very nice person on the outside, there was something about her; some deep, forbidden secret that the other women sensed but could not describe. Those eyes. Especially those eyes!

As Lenore watched Mariah, she wondered what the future would bring. Would Mariah take after her or would she be like her father? Lenore still felt bitter about their short marriage. Kevin had become a problem. He just refused to understand. If only he had tried to understand. Some things just could not be changed. She remembered her own childhood. She had been envious of the other girls. She wanted to be like them. Being raised by her grandmother and uncle, her upbringing had been very strict. When she became a teenager, her grandmother had warned her about falling in love with an “outsider.” Why did her grandmother make such a big deal about things? If two people really loved each other, things would work out.

At eighteen, Lenore fell head over heels in love with Kevin Conley. Blonde hair, fair skinned and extremely handsome. Against her grandmother’s wishes, they were married. There was just a small wedding ceremony. The preacher seemed a bit strange to Kevin but, he was a close friend of Lenore’s grandmother and her Uncle Nicolai. Kevin had no family. His parents had been killed in an automobile accident and his Aunt Marie in upstate New York raised him. Poor old Aunt Marie; she suddenly became very ill shortly after Kevin met Lenore. It’s been said that she tried to talk Kevin into not marrying Lenore. Unexpectedly, her senses soon began to deteriorate. Her doctor said that he had never seen anything like it. Old Marie was always a strong woman, and sharp as a tack! Now she just sat staring out the window, seeing but not seeing, not speaking.

The first few months of married life were wonderful. As the time for the birth of Mariah came close, Lenore spent more and more time with her grandmother and Uncle Nicolai. Kevin began feeling uneasy about Lenore; about their new baby. Something was not right. What was it? He had to know. It was said that soon after Mariah was born, Kevin left his young bride and beautiful child, never to be seen or heard from again. How strange. The story told around the small town was that Kevin just packed up and left in the middle of the night. Left his wife and daughter; left his job; never a word to anyone. He just disappeared!

“Mariah honey, come inside now. It’s time for dinner.” Mariah looked at her Mom and smiled. Tomorrow, she and some of her classmates were going on a field trip. Lenore felt uneasy at first but decided to give her permission. What could go wrong?

####

Harley Masters had just gotten another beer from the refrigerator when there was a knock on the screen door.

“Hey Harley – You in there?”

“Come on in Rob. I’ll get ya a cold beer.” Rob Hanson opened the rickety screen door and walked in.

“Harley, I need a favor.”

“Yeah, I imagine so. You only come ‘round when you want somthin’.” Most folks considered Rob Hanson as a “do nothin’” who was always looking for ways to get out of work. Somehow, he managed to land a part time job driving one of the school buses when the regular drivers were not able. His driving record was good enough, and other than being a goof-off, he never really got into any trouble. Harley Masters on the other hand, was bad news, the bottom of the bucket! Being drunk was his favorite thing in life and it went downhill from there.

“So, what’s on your mind, Rob?” Rob’s eyes shifted nervously. “Harley, I got a chance to do a little huntin’ with some guys. We’re goin’ to be gone for a few days.”

“What’s all that got to do with me?” snapped Harley.

Rob fiddled with his can of beer. “I agreed to drive the school bus to take a bunch of kids on a field trip tomorrow. The guys want to leave on the huntin’ trip tonight! Harley, you just gotta drive the bus for me tomorrow.”

Harley’s attitude suddenly turned angry. “No way! You know how much I hate kids. Forget it!” Harley slammed his beer can on the table, splashing beer on his hand.

“Look Harley. I’ll turn over the whole paycheck for drivin’ the bus. Those stiff necks at the school board won’t know who’s drivin’ the bus.” Harley thought for a while. He sure could use the extra money. “One thing though, you gotta promise to lay off the drinkin’ ‘til after the trip.”

“Right!” Harley thought, “Them little brats won’t know anythin’.”

Rob gave Harley his map with the trip route marked out, finished his beer and went to pack for the hunting trip. Harley became aware of some children playing near the road in front of his house. “Shut up you damn little brats! Git the heck away from my house! Why don’t you brats stay home where you belong?” For whatever reason, Harley Masters hated kids. More than anything in the world. He grabbed another beer from the refrigerator and chugged it down.

####

Mariah was so filled with excitement this morning that she could hardly finish her breakfast. Lenore on the other hand, still had an uneasy feeling about something but just could not figure out why. So silly. Mariah’s teacher, Miss Williams would be on the trip to watch over the kids. Mariah liked Miss Williams. What could go wrong, thought Lenore. The bus was waiting as Lenore and Mariah entered the schoolyard. Most of the kids were already on the bus. It was just a small bus. There were only twelve of Mariah’s classmates going on the trip. Miss Williams smiled as she helped Mariah climb into the bus.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Conley. I’ll take good care of Mariah.” Lenore flashed a brief smile but couldn’t help staring at the driver.

“Who is he? I don’t think I’ve seen him before.”

“He’s just one of the spare drivers. Nothing to worry about” assured Miss Williams. Harley glared at the little blonde haired girl as she climbed aboard the bus and walked past him to take her seat with the other children.

“It’s about time! I should have gone and left the little brat waiting on the curb,” thought Harley. Lenore stared after the bus until it turned the corner and headed out of town. Something just didn’t feel right. Lenore shrugged it off and went back home.

####

Harley pushed down harder on the gas pedal as the bus sped down the winding road. He didn’t get much sleep last night and the alcohol made it hard to think. He looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching. Satisfied, he slipped the pint whiskey bottle out of his inside jacket pocket and took a long swallow.

“Damned noisy kids!” Rob Hanson was going to have to hand over more than just that lousy check to pay for putting up with all these noisy brats! As Harley tried to slip the bottle back inside his jacket, he missed the pocket. The flat bottle slipped out of the bottom of his jacket and fell to the floor between the gas and brake pedals. Harley groped for the bottle, barely feeling the bump as the right wheels moved off the pavement and onto the gravel shoulder. Suddenly, Harley’s ears were filled with screams as the bus lurched and began to roll over and over, plunging deep into the ravine. At some point, Harley lost consciousness.

####

When Harley came to, his addled brain struggled to understand what had happened. He became aware of a throbbing headache that seemed to come from a huge knot on his forehead. “Damn! I must have wrecked the bus.” The bus was nearly upright, the windshield pretty much nonexistent. Harley could smell a strong odor of gasoline from the bus’s ruptured fuel tank. “How long was I out?” Harley wondered as it suddenly dawned on him that it was beginning to get dark. Still trying to understand what happened, Harley realized that it was very quiet in the bus. Dead quiet.

“Where did all those noisy brats disappear to? They better not have run off on me!” Harley struggled to his feet and peered into the growing darkness. He stared, not believing what he was seeing. The bus was a mess. The children were strewn around the bus like so many rag dolls. All at once, Harley’s breath caught in his throat. There in one of the seats sat Miss Williams, her arm around a pretty blonde haired girl. They looked so natural, as if they were still riding down the road. Natural except for one thing --- the tree limb that had come through the window --- the forked end spearing the little girl through both eyes!

Harley didn’t have much in his stomach but what little there was unexpectedly erupted, covering his shoes. “They’re dead!” moaned Harley. “They’re all dead”. He pushed his way through the bent up door and began to run, stumbling through the dense brush. Suddenly, there was a loud “Whoosh” as the leaking fuel suddenly ignited. Harley turned to see the bus engulfed in flames. All of a sudden, a loud wailing sound filled the air. “No-o-o! They were already dead! They were already dead!” screamed Harley. He stumbled through the darkness toward the road.

####

Harley had little recollection of finding his way home. He vaguely remembered getting out of the cab of a big tractor-trailer rig. As he staggered up the road, he could make out a figure entering the front door of his shack.

“What the ----! Who is that?” Harley ducked into the bushes and watched. It wasn’t long before the figure came out. As it passed his hiding place only a few feet away, Harley recognized the woman who had been with the little blonde girl when she got on the bus. “What the heck is she doin’ here? How did she know to come here?” Harley looked after the figure as it moved quietly through the darkness. In the blink of an eye, she was gone!

“Where did she go?” In the glow from the streetlight, the only thing on the road was a cat, the biggest cat that Harley had ever seen! The cat stopped briefly, looked straight at Harley, and then walked off into the darkness.

Shaking, Harley ran to his shack. Not turning on any lights, Harley went straight to the refrigerator and grabbed a couple of beers. With shaking hands, he opened the first can and drank it down all at once. He sat in the dark, sipping at the other can of beer, trying to make some sense out of the day’s happenings. He didn’t remember much. He remembered fumbling for the whiskey bottle that he’d dropped on the floor of the bus and seeing that little blonde kid’s mother messing around his house. Only brief scenes of what had happened in between flashed through his mind. One fact did stand out in Harley’s mind; those thirteen kids and their teacher were dead! The fire certainly made sure of that! But that wailing noise -----! Harley began to shake again. He tried to think what his next move should be.

“I have time. They’ll blame Rob Hanson. He was supposed to be drivin’ the bus. It will be days before he gets back from the hunting trip. Ol’ Harley will be long gone by then.” He chuckled to himself, believing that he had figured everything out. A few more beers and Harley slipped into a deep sleep. Sleep well Harley Masters, while you can!

####

Harley awoke to the morning sun on his face. Like many mornings, Harley grabbed his canned “breakfast” from the refrigerator and sat on the front stoop. A couple of cats wandered out of the woods across the road and sat at the edge of Harley’s yard. He hadn’t noticed them at first. He thought about throwing the can at the cats but changed his mind.

“Why waste good beer?” he giggled. Harley hated cats, almost as much as “them damned bratty kids.” Downing the rest of his beer, Harley went inside to get more “breakfast.” As he shoved things around inside his refrigerator, Harley let loose with a curse that would embarrass the “baddest” trucker in the world. His beer supply depleted, he rummaged through the pantry off the kitchen and soon came up with a “box” of wine; you know the kind, a one gallon plastic bag of wine in a cardboard box. Harley had some of his nourishing liquids hidden all over the house. Sometimes he just had a hard time remembering where. Plopping himself down on the front stoop again, Harley opened the spout on the wine container and took a long drink. Through blurring vision, he noticed another cat come out of the woods and join the first two. A few minutes later, another one came, then another, and another ------.

“Must be gittin’ a little tipsy” mused Harley. “Startin’ to see double!” The whole thing seemed to amuse Harley. He giggled uncontrollably as he tried to count them. “One, two, ----- There must be a dozen of them damned things.” He wasn’t sure. Harley sobered briefly as he looked at the cats. They just sat there and stared at him. They seemed to be waiting for something – or someone. “Them damned cats give me the creeps!” Harley went inside and stumbled to the raggedy couch where he passed out in a drunken stupor.

####

It was dark when Harley finally woke up. He got up and fumbled for the switch on the floor lamp next to the couch. As his eyes tried to adjust to the sudden light, he noticed movement from a dark corner of the room. To Harley’s surprise, out walked a cat, moving slowly and staring defiantly at him. Harley recognized it as one from his front yard.

“How did that damn thing get in here?” As he moved menacingly toward the cat, his eyes caught more movement from the dark corner. Out walked another cat, arrogant and glaring at him. Then another, and another ----. Harley stumbled backwards and fell on the couch. Twelve cats circled Harley, their eyes staring, boring into his very soul. Their tails moved slowly from side to side as if waiting for a mouse to appear so they could pounce and rip it to shreds. Suddenly from out of the darkness walked another cat, not like the others but smaller and pure white. Well, pure white except for the eyes. There was a coal black patch around each eye! Harley’s heart pounded as the white cat boldly walked up to him and jumped into his lap. The beast proceeded to move up his chest until they were face-to-face. It began to make angry hissing noises as it stared deep into his eyes. It felt as if his very life was being pulled out of him. In a desperate move, Harley flung the cat away from him and ran from the door, tearing it from its hinges as he ran into the woods. Behind him, he could hear a loud wailing sound, like a bunch of little children crying in the night.

####

Police Detective Lieutenant Ken Craven scratched his head as he looked at the front door of Harley Master’s ramshackle house.

“Wow! Looks like someone left in a big hurry.” When the wrecked school bus was found with no sign of the driver, the police began a massive manhunt for Rob Hanson. As luck would have it, the hunting trip was a bust. Rob and his buddies decided to come home early, only to find the police camping on Rob’s doorstep. Of course, Rob’s hunting pals were able to give him an airtight alibi. At first, Rob didn’t want to squeal on Harley but “Damn it! He left all those kids to burn and didn’t even try to get help!” When the police got to Harley’s house, he was nowhere to be found and the place was a mess. Harley’s closest neighbor, Sammy Vargas couldn’t wait to come over and see what all the cops were doing at Harley’s place.

“When was the last time you saw Harley Masters?” Eager to spill everything he knew or thought he knew Sammy’s mouth began to move at a record pace.

“I saw him off and on yesterday, sittin’ on his front stoop getting’ drunk as usual.”

“Was that all you saw?”

“Yup. All he did was sit there starin’ at his yard.”

“What else?” “Well, sometimes he just sat there and giggled like a loony, while he poked his finger like he was tryin’ to count somethin’.”

“What was he counting?”

“Dunno. There was nothin’ there, at least as far as I could see.”

“Did you see anything else?”

“Sometime after dark, I heard him screamin’ and then he comes bustin’ out of the door like the devil hisself was after him.”

“Did anything else happen?”

“Well, likely nothin’ that relates to ol’ Harley flippin’ out.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“It probably doesn’t make any sense but there was a bunch of cats.”

“Cats?”

“Well now, I didn’t see any but I sure could hear ‘em squallerin’. You know how sometimes when a bunch of cats gets to harmonizin’ at night, they sound like a bunch of little kids cryin’?”

“Right.” thought Lieutenant Craven. “Sounds like both of these guys have one oar out of the water.”

One of the uniformed cops came running up.

“Lieutenant, we found something! Out in the woods. You’ve got to see this.”

Lieutenant Craven bent down to look at Harley. He was sitting on the ground with his back against a tree. He was dead! There was no doubt about that. His face was contorted as if frozen in the midst of a scream and his eyes ---; they were gone, nothing but bloody holes remained, the eyes plucked from their sockets by some creature unknown.

“Jeez!” said Craven. “What a way to end it!”

The next morning, Ken Craven stopped by the morgue to see if the coroner had determined the cause of death.

“Hi, Doc. Did you find out what killed that Harley Masters guy?”

“Kind of.”

“What kind of answer is that?”

“Well, no external wounds other than the missing eyes. Pretty nasty stuff but definitely not the cause of death.”

“So, what else?”

“Internally, everything looked OK except for his heart.”

“What, a heart attack?”

“It literally burst, Lieutenant. It burst wide open!”

“Burst? How? What caused it?”

“Uh, you probably won’t believe me. I think he died of fright!”

“Died of fright? You can’t be serious! Do you expect me to believe that somebody just popped out of the woods and scared the old fool to death? Doc, if you put that on his death certificate you’ll be looking for a new job before the week is up.”

“Yeah, I know,” said the coroner as he scribbled the words “HEART ATTACK” under CAUSE OF DEATH. “I guess this case is closed.”

“One more thing. What happened to his eyes, Doc?”

“Not sure.” They seemed to have been ripped out of his head. Maybe some kind of animal found him after he died.”

“Yeah, maybe so, maybe not” mumbled Craven, scratching his blonde head as he walked out the door.

####

More than a year had passed since the terrible wreck of the school bus and the strange death of Harley Masters. Ken Craven had been given the lousy job of telling Lenore Conley that her only child had been killed in a horrible accident. He had decided to spare her the gory details as much as possible. Strangely, as he began to tell her what had happened, she seemed to already know! She knew things that he had not told her. Lenore seemed to switch from grief to anger and back again. Ken’s heart went out to her. As things settled down, he found himself stopping by often to see her. Relationships often grow from strange circumstances. Lenore found herself drawn to Ken. He was fair skinned, blonde, and oh so handsome. In a few months, they were very much in love. They were married in a small ceremony. Ken had no family, only his Aunt Margie who had looked after him since he was a boy.

As Ken parked his car at the Elm Tree Nursing Home, he looked lovingly at Lenore and their new baby, Mariah. Ken felt that it was a little morbid to name the baby after her dead sister but Lenore was insistent. Mariah was a beautiful child, the fair skin and blonde hair of her father and the beautiful facial features of her mother. Ken was dumbstruck when Lenore showed him a photo of the first Mariah taken shortly after she was born. The babies were born about seven years apart but looked as if they could have been twins! After breakfast that morning, Lenore said that they needed to take Mariah to see Aunt Margie. Ken didn’t think that it was a good idea. A few days before the wedding, poor Aunt Margie had suffered a massive stroke. Now, she spent her days sitting in a chair, seeing but not seeing, not speaking.

“Hi Aunt Margie” said Ken as they walked into the room. Margie continued staring at her lap, no sign of recognition. Ken shook his head and looked out of the window. It hurt to see her this way.

“Aunt Margie, we brought someone to see you” said Lenore as she placed the baby in Margie’s lap. There was still no sign of recognition, no sign of emotion on Margie’s face. Little Mariah seemed to smile at Margie. Well, if she weren’t a baby, you could almost say it was a sinister grin. Suddenly, tears began to form, slowly and silently making their way down Margie’s cheeks. Such a beautiful child but, those eyes – something --- about --- those --- eyes! Like a hungry cat. Looking into your very soul. Pulling your life away!

Scheduled to be published in the November, 2011 issue of Ultimate Writer magazine.