Black Frost (9 page)

“Damn!” was all I could say. I had thought
the meat might need thawing, but that was obviously not the
case.

“I hope that’ll hold you for awhile, ‘cause
that about wipes out our extra meat. I’ll have to buy more at the
butcher shop.”

I was rattling on by reflex, not expecting
them to understand my words in any way, but shaken by the sheer
violence of the feeding.

The leader’s self important poise reminded me
of the bandit leader in Blazing Saddles. “
Badges! We don’t need
no stinkin’ badges!”
ran through my head, delivered in a bad
Mexican accent.

“Listen, I’ve got to call you something, so
let’s go with Pancho?” I said, watching him watch me.

Charm’s frantic barking suddenly stopped and
twenty-three miniature heads swiveled along with my own to look at
the house. Ashley must have gotten up to calm the dog, so that was
my notice to get going.

“Look, don’t eat my dog or anything, alright?
I’ll get some more meat today while I’m out,” I said, heading for
the door.

Pancho tilted his head to regard me, then
uttered a shrill command. Instantly the air was filled with furry
flying bodies and then they were gone. The leader still looked at
me calmly.

“Ah, I can’t make the same noises that Greer
can, so how about I whistle when I’ve got more food?” I asked,
simultaneously pondering my own sanity while whistling out a five
note tone. Pancho’s eyes widened at the whistle, then narrowed in
what I could swear was understanding. He gave me a tooth filled
grin and then jumped backward off the wooden beam he’d been
gripping with his taloned feet, hummingbird wings pulling him out
and away with a ballet dancer’s grace. I turned and headed into the
house, my mind reeling from the feeding frenzy.

Chapter 8

Inside the house, I found Ashley and Lindsey
looking one-half awake and the other half annoyed.

“Dad, what’s with
your
stupid dog!
It’s way too early for us to be up!” was the greeting I got when I
opened the door. Despite her harsh words her left hand was rubbing
the ears of the brindled bundle of fur that was wedged between the
girls on the couch.

“Well, she musta heard or smelled something,”
I said, getting an eye roll that said ‘
duh!’
.

“How about breakfast? The usual?” I asked in
an attempt at changing subjects. Their low blood sugar worked in my
favor and they nodded, so I set about making chocolate chip
pancakes, which is the standard breakfast for sleepovers.

I think it must be an unwritten rule
somewhere that if you’ve given someone a free night by having their
teen-ager for a sleepover, then you are obligated to return said
teen in a sugared-up condition that will provide a short, intense
burst of irritating activity, followed by a sugar crash and
semi-coma. Not willing to break the rule, I cooked up a big batch
of pancakes, spotted with chunks of chocolate, smothered in butter
and rivers of real maple syrup.

The girls trudged to the table, barely awake,
but with eyes fastened on the food. I sat down with them, my own
plate carrying a slightly smaller batch of griddlecakes. Lindsey
noticed and spoke.

“You almost never have pancakes, Mr. Moore?”
she questioned. I usually ate far lighter fare than the girls did,
having long ago lost my teen-aged metabolism.

“Well, what the hell, Lindsey? Sometimes you
just gotta live a little, if you know what I mean?” I said.

She laughed at that, but Ashley just snorted
and looked at me with narrowed eyes. The truth was I was in a weird
place, trying to keep a semblance of normalcy while the rest of the
world around me went mad. Sugar-rich pancakes seemed like a small
thing in the face of a worldwide invasion by creatures that could
have escaped from Wes Craven’s idea of fairy tales.
Nightmare on
NeverNever land.

“What time are your parents picking you up,
Lindsey?” I asked. She was texting on her cell phone and didn’t
bother to look up when she answered. “Dad said around ten.”

“Okay. Ash, you and I are going into town
later to run some errands, okay?” I asked.

“Can’t I stay home with Charm and just a hang
out?” she asked. Oddly, despite her issues with losing her mother
and the massive changes in our lives, Ashley had no fear of staying
alone in the old farm house, as long as she had her dog.

“No, I want you and Charm with me. Plus, I
think we’re gonna drop in on your grandparents,” I answered. “And
if I show up without
you
, your grandma will skin me
alive.”

She grinned, obviously picturing my mother
giving me hell for not bringing her granddaughter to visit.

“Why don’t you two get ready? It’s nine
twenty-three already,” I suggested.

They agreed, taking their syrup smeared
plates to the sink before heading up to Ashley’s room to get
dressed.

***

Lindsey’s dad, Tom Yelos, pulled his pickup
truck into our driveway at three minutes to ten, the rumble of his
diesel powered Chevy vibrating my small house.

I called up the stairs to the girls, then
walked outside to say hi. Tom powered down his window and shook my
hand with a grin. “Hey buddy! How’d that furnace turn out?”

It took me a split second to remember the lie
I had used to get out of the fight evaluation, but I don’t think
the lag was too noticeable.

“Well I have heat, so that’s all I can ask
for right?” I forced a laugh.

“I thought you heated with wood?” he
asked.

“We have a wood stove that keeps most of the
house warm, but the furnace is needed for really cold weather,” I
explained.

“Yeah, well, from the weather pattern so far
it looks like we’re in for a bitch of a winter!” he said, rubbing
his bald head with one calloused hand. “In fact, I think we got an
early snowstorm coming next week!”

The thought of Greer and his ‘elven’ people
flashed through my mind. “Yeah, a storm’s coming alright,” I
agreed. Suddenly struck by a fear for Lindsey and her family, a new
thought raced through my mind. “Hey listen….would you do me a favor
and take this assegai with you? I’m hoping you can adapt some kata
for it… when you get a chance?” I asked, pulling Shaka from inside
the doorway. Tom stepped out of the truck, stretched his six foot
frame and then took the five and a half foot length of spear in his
right hand. Feeling its balance for a moment, he suddenly whirled
through a spin, slash and jab technique. Tom had black belts in
karate, jiu-jitsu, and kung-fu, and practiced many weapons forms.
But somewhat surprisingly, despite his occupation and training, he
was extremely adverse to guns. He had no issues with people owning
them, just didn’t like them himself. I wanted him to have some type
of steel weapon at hand, if the Hunters of the Green court came
calling.

“I’d sure hate to be on the wrong end of this
bastard!” he said, laughing as he admired the thirteen inch steel
spear head.

“Yeah, no shit!” I agreed. “But the extra
spear head length changes the balance, although it does give you
chopping and slashing options that most spears don’t have. That why
I thought you might have some insight.”

He looked from me to the spear, scratched his
head, then nodded. “Yeah, I’ll do some research too…see if there’s
any videos or written information on Zulu technique,” he said,
giving me a slightly puzzled look. “I thought you made this in high
school? Why the sudden interest?” he asked.

I shrugged. “It’s been something in the back
of my mind for quite some time,” I answered, which was true enough.
“Something made me think of it this morning, so….it just seemed
like a good time to ask,” I finished, trying to be nonchalant. I
had another of those all over body chills that have nothing to do
with temperature and everything to do with instinct. Tom put the
spear behind the seat of his truck and we both turned as the door
opened and the girls came out.

“Hey pumpkin, hey Ashley,” Tom greeted the
girls.

“Hi Dad” “Hi Mr. Yelos” chorused back at
him.

He grabbed Lindsey’s book bag which had her
school clothes stuffed in it. She was wearing a set of Ashley’s
pajamas with her own coat over them. The girls exchanged clothes
like they had one big co-owned closet. “Thanks for letting me stay
over Mr. Moore,” Lindsey said.

“Lindsey, please!
Me casa you casa!
” I
said.

She laughed. “Your Spanish is pretty crappy
Mr. Moore.”

“Lindsey!” he father admonished.

I just laughed, “You can’t fault the girl for
telling the truth, Tom.”

Ashley pretended to slap her fore head with
the palm of her hand. “That’s why I’m failing Spanish!” she
exclaimed.

I narrow my eyes at her. “You’re failing? I
better schedule a meeting with that Miss Connors and find out what
we can do about it.” Miss Connors the Spanish Teacher was young and
very pretty.

“Oh wait, now I remember, I have a ninety-six
in Spanish. No meeting necessary Dad!” she hastily corrected.

We said our goodbyes and the big pickup
rolled out of the driveway as we headed back inside.

***

An hour and a half later we were cleaned up,
loaded into the SUV and headed toward town. The village of Groton
Falls is small and quaint. Located north of Albany, it lies just
outside the boundaries of the Adirondack Park. The town is very
old, originally settled to make use of the fast flowing Killross
Creek that flows through the hilly terrain. The creek had once
powered mills and small craft shops in the community’s early days,
which then became brick and mortar factories. When manufacturing
moved out of state, then out of the country, the town underwent a
painful decline. But the last five years had seen a quiet rebirth,
as art shops and restaurants filled in the vacant store fronts.
Groton Falls became what some call a ‘strolling village’, the kind
of place that tourists, drawn to the nearby Saratoga horse track,
like to spend time and money in.

Ashley stayed in the car, head down and
texting about five friends simultaneously, while I hit the farmers
market and then the bank. My last stop before visiting my parents
was the drug store to pick up a refill of Ashley’s allergy meds.
Ashley decided to come into CVS with me, mumbling something about
eye makeup as she tried to walk forward while texting Lindsey. This
whole texting every minute of life thing got on my nerves, but it
seemed to be universal and my wife’s voice spoke from deep inside
me, telling me to pick my battles.

After steering Ashley safely inside, I left
her in the strange and formidable (if you’re a guy) makeup aisle
and headed to the back of the store where they keep the pharmacy.
After waiting in line for ancient Mrs. Oldman to count out her
change and harangue the pharmacy tech about the cost of her
medicine, I finally got my hands on the allergy meds.

Coming around the corner of the aisle where I
had left Ashley, I immediately spotted her talking to a young woman
I didn’t know. Dressed in black tights with calf high boots and a
short black leather jacket over a rich blue sweater, she definitely
stood out in Groton Falls. Not every woman can wear the uncovered
tights look, but this girl was rocking it. I noticed long
corn-yellow hair that hung in gently curling tresses and the
exposed skin of her neck was a summer tan color that had
disappeared from most upstate New Yorkers skin by this time of
year.

Ashley was obviously discussing makeup with
the young woman and when she noticed me approaching she looked up
with a big smile. “Hi Dad!” she said, her cheeks slightly flushed.
“Come meet Eirwen!”

The young woman turned to look at me and I
was almost struck dumb by her appearance. Have you ever
unexpectedly come across a person who is so immediately attractive
to you that you almost lose the ability to use language? I was able
to say hi to Ashley, but that’s probably because the neural
pathways for those particular words were so well established. The
rest of my thoughts fled at the sight of the girl’s forest green
eyes, full bee stung lips and even white teeth.

She smiled instantly at me, the greeting
someone gives when they want to make a good impression on a new
friend’s parent. But the look in her eyes changed to one of
interest even as she said “Hi” in a clear bell toned voice and held
out one slim tan hand to shake. Her grip surprised me; there was a
lot more strength in her than you might guess. “ How do you know
Ashley?” I asked, wondering at how calm my voice sounded.

“Oh, I just met her. I’m new in town and when
I saw such a beautiful young woman in the makeup section, I
couldn’t help but ask for her advice,” she laughed easily. Someone
else saying the same sentence might have sounded condescending and
insulting, but Eirwen managed to express admiration for the teen
ager who was looking at her wide eyed, all while poking fun at
herself.

“That’s sooo not true! She helped me pick out
this eye liner that makes my eyes POP!” Ashley said in a gush.

“Well thanks for that, because there’s no way
she’s gonna get that kind of help from
me
!” I said, caught
up in the rush of emotion that had struck almost on sight.

I looked over at Ashley who was watching our
exchange. A whole slew of expressions flashed over her face. The
first was a small amount of awe, directed at the beautiful blonde
shaking my hand. I could understand that as I felt a similar if
different impact from Eirwen. The second emotion I read was
surprise which was followed by calculated interest, and instantly I
had a flash of insight. Ashley was somehow misreading the
situation. Eirwen was all of twenty-five…if that. I was long past
my fortieth birthday. The realization that Ashley was reading more
into this simple exchange was like a bucket of cold water, shocking
my brain back to earth.