“You’re impregnated,” it said, pointing at her midsection. She had never heard the word it used, but knew exactly what the creature meant.
“I’m not,” she put a protective hand on her bellybutton. “He didn’t even finish,” she protested.
The monster bent at the waist and lowered its massive head towards her. She cowered as it aimed its nose at her and tilted its head from side to side, as if examining her from all angles.
Finally, the monster raised its head slightly and looked into her eyes. She stared back, so transfixed by its gaze that she didn’t see its hands come up on either side of her face. It cupped her head between its massive palms and tugged her gently to her feet. Still bending over, so their eyes remained locked, the creature released its gentle touch from the sides of her head.
She exhaled and relaxed slightly, glad to be free of the monster’s touch.
The monster, formerly known as Crooked Tree, now calling himself The Hunting Tree, surviving son of a powerful hunter and warrior, raised his hands like an eagle spreading its wings and brought them together with a thunderous clap, crushing the young woman’s head.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Davey
“HEY, YOU BETTER START getting ready,” said Melanie as she leaned in Davey’s door.
He sat on his bed propped against the headboard with several pillows and schoolbooks scattered around. Davey wrote a final figure in his workbook before closing it on his pencil and looking up at his mom.
“I’m only halfway done though,” he lied. So far that week he had finished most of the math problems for the year and it was still April. With one or two more days at home he figured he could complete most of the reading and vocabulary assignments as well. The only thing he couldn’t anticipate were the special projects that Mrs. Roberts kept in the cabinet near the window.
“You can bring it with you and work in the waiting room. Are you going to get dressed, or just go in your PJs?”
“All right,” Davey said with a groan.
“I’ll be down in my office,” Melanie said. “We have to leave by quarter of. I expect you to be ready by the door then.” She disappeared around the corner.
Davey looked up at his clock and saw that he only had minutes to take a shower and get dressed. He pushed his books away and lunged for his dresser. The quick movement made him grab his chest in pain. Davey stopped until he could breathe deeply once more without the hot stab to his lung. Picking through his dresser and pulling out clothes to wear, Davey thought about how much his outlook had changed in the past year. This time alone, while his lung recovered, had brought a new introspection that made him feel like he was becoming an adult.
The first time he had noticed the change, he had been talking to the woman who lived next door, Mrs. Bevelaqua. They had sat in the backyard on a nice summer day. Davey’s mom had been inside, getting everyone some lemonade. Mrs. Bevelaqua related a story about how her brother had been employed by the Army. His job had been to crash cars so they could determine how they would fail.
“That’s crazy,” Davey had said, laughing. “Why would anyone do that?”
Mrs. Bevelaqua had regarded Davey carefully. He realized that she was trying to assess how much a boy of his age could comprehend. “Yes, Davey,” she said finally. “That’s what we would call a ‘Man Bites Dog’ story when I used to work in the news room. You think it’s going to be one thing, but then it’s another.”
He remembered the way she had folded her hands in her lap and waited for his mother to return.
Davey had been insulted and angry. He knew that she and her husband had never “been blessed with children,” but didn’t she understand that having no experience didn’t make him stupid? The realization hit him like a brick—sometimes grownups were just rude. Other occasions of people talking down to him had occurred to Davey as he sat next to Mrs. Bevelaqua in the backyard that day.
This week had brought similar revelations. He visualized his brain moving small steps back from his body. He still experienced what was happening, but he had a new perspective and saw the world at arm’s length. With this new outlook he realized that he liked being alone, but he also missed his friends and the social aspects of school. He knew that he would need to find another way to occupy his brain or he would be bored out of his skull once he returned to class.
DAVEY GOT TO THE DOOR just one minute after his mom’s deadline. She was still in her office; he could hear her talking on the phone. He ambled over to the doorway to her office and regarded his mom, sitting at her desk.
She listened to her earpiece for several moments before delivering her decision—“I know you’re tapped, but I need to know how many hours you can give me next quarter." She paused. “It’s part of your job,” she said. “If you’re not estimating your capacity then you’re not doing your job.”
“Mom?” he asked during her pause.
She sighed deeply and then swiveled her chair to face Davey. Her eyes stared off over his head. “I know. Yes, I understand that, Peter." She paused again.
That’s what it’s like, thought Davey. That’s what it’s like when you disconnect from your body and live in your head. That’s what adults do all the time. I’ll never do that. I’ll stay connected.
“Goodbye,” she said as she reached up and removed her headset. “Sorry Davey,” she said. “I’m all set until two. We’ve got plenty of time.”
“That’s okay,” said Davey. He watched his mother collect her wallet and phone into her big purse. “Mom?”
“Yeah?” She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“What do you do exactly?” he asked.
She laughed and herded him towards the door. “Some people would say not very much.”
“How come?”
“My job is to be the glue; to stick together all the things that need sticking,” she said.
“What’s that mean?”
“I’ll give you an example,” said Melanie. “Let’s say you have a test next week, but you also have to send a letter to your grandmother." She waited for him to catch up—Davey moved slowly to make sure he didn’t have to breathe too deeply. When he made it to the car, she continued: “My job would be to write down that you have a test and a letter. Then, when you get really wrapped up worrying about your test, I make sure you don’t forget about your grandmother.”
“How do you do that?”
“Mostly just by having meetings. I keep a list and then I ask everyone around the table about all the stuff they were supposed to do since the last meeting.”
“Couldn’t everyone just keep track of what they were supposed to do for themselves?” asked Davey. He clicked his seatbelt as Melanie started the car.
“One would think,” she said, laughing again. “I guess they would, but they have competing priorities, so they get really focused on one thing and forget about everything else. Why the sudden interest in my job, Davey?” She smiled at him as she turned around to back out of the driveway.
“I just was wondering how you can do your job at home when I’m sick. You don’t have to stay home with me. I can take care of myself.”
“You’re funny,” Melanie said as she smiled again. She put the car into drive. “I don’t even think it’s legal to leave a nine-year-old home alone." She glanced at her son in the rearview mirror. “Are you still having bad dreams?”
“Not too much,” Davey lied for the second time that day. His dreams had increased in both frequency and detail, but he had adjusted to them. They still scared him, but he didn’t wake up screaming, like before.