Wisconsin had a bad winter the year I lost my best friend. It was January, school should have been open after the holidays but everything was frozen solid. Lou came up to my place and we headed for Lake Earle, wrapped in enough layers to satisfy our mothers.
Lake Earle was a recreation pond that had been put in for summer boating and the both of us liked to go up there and cross the stone bridge to the island and hurl pine cones and transmission gears across the ice. No one much used the lake, even in summer. The jetty was rotting and the island’s rotunda had lost its roof.
As the evening sun reddened up the clouds, the cogs and cones spent, we headed back.
Crossing the bridge, we saw a length of heavy chain alongside the path, draped back as if attached to an anchor under the ice. The chain was pitted and dark orange with age. Lou lifted the end with his mittened hand. “This wasn’t here before, was it?” he asked.
“Nope.”
He frowned under his parka hood. “But it’s been frozen for days.” He rattled the chain, making some little chips of ice skittle away from the first frozen link.
We went off the path to the edge of the pond. The ice was thick enough to walk on and Lou tugged the chain right by the ice. “What’s that?” he said, pointing down.
There was a dark shape in the ice. It shuddered each time Lou shook the chain and I felt my skin prickle.
Lou dropped the chain. “Let’s get home,” he said.
*
Mom let me watch a rerun of The Outer Limits, so when the howling and scratching in the yard started it freaked me out more. I knew it was imagination, but when you’re twelve, well, it doesn’t take much. I swallowed, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, not even brave enough to reach out for my flashlight. After a while the sounds went away.
*
Lou had heard howling too, he told me the next day. “When I looked out the window, there was something half lost lumbering around the yard.”
“Something?”
“Like an animal. It was from the lake.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let me show you.”
We went to the lake and the chain was gone. There was a slush-filled hole as if someone had dynamited the ice. “I woke it up,” Lou said.
“Where is it now?”
“Lost, looking. I think it’s blind, but it’s looking for something.”
We walked around town, trying to find it. In Lou’s front yard there were footprints, and marks that could have been from the dragging chain. In my yard too.
“We need a plan,” Lou said.
“What kind of a plan?”
“We’ll think of something.”
But we couldn’t come up with anything before supper time and I had to go on home.
*
I left my bedroom door open, and my curtains, and sat on my bed, clutching the flashlight, looking into the gloom of our front yard. Nothing, just the dead, naked trees and the dark houses along our street.
I dozed a little, but a shout woke me. I fumbled, then turned the beam at the glass, trembling as I shone the light down. Lou was in our yard, in his woollens and hollering up at me. I opened the window, got blasted by frozen air.
“Get down here,” he yelled.
“What?”
“We haven’t got long. Get dressed and get down here.” He glanced into the street and I looked into the night, but couldn’t see anything.
I threw on my winter gear and rushed out. Lou was at the gate, looking along the street. Further down, among the parked cars, I saw the thing, hazy in the dark, as big as a lion, but moving slowly like a mammoth or a bull seal.
“It came into our house,” Lou said. He dragged me out onto the icy tarmac.
I checked over my shoulder. It was still coming.
“I thought you said it couldn’t see,” I said.
“It can’t, I don’t think. I got a closer look at it and it’s got no eyes, no nose, but it can sense things. It smashed in our front door, started crashing around the house. My sister is terrified, Mom too.”
“Did it hurt them?” I was puffing, the chilled air burning my lungs.
“No. It was me who pulled the chain.”
We crossed the intersection at Michigan and 115th, ran into the field, slipping on the frozen ground. Partway across Lou slowed and I stopped as he turned. Shoulders heaving, we both stared back across the field. The thing was coming over the fence. Moving slow, but not tiring.
“What can we do?” I said.
“I’ve made a plan. Keep up.”
We ran to the bridge. Lou told me to stand by the hole. The thing was already on the path. I stepped gingerly as Lou clambered onto the bridge and hunkered down.
It moved close and I could smell its heavy farm animal stink, hear it breathing. It hesitated at the end of the bridge.
“Call out,” Lou whispered.
Terrified as I was, I trusted his plan. “Hey!” I yelled, and it turned, moving faster, sliding down to the ice. Then Lou sprang off the bridge and landed on it and together they fell through the hole in the ice, splashing and bursting in the slush.
Lou was on top and I reached down. He caught my hand and I pulled. The creature was still moving, sliding and twisting. Its brawny hand reached up and clutched Lou around the waist.
“I think it needs me,” he said. He seemed very calm.
Then he let go my hand.
They dropped together, and water rushed in. The thick slush rolled for a moment, slowly stilling. I watched and yelled, but Lou didn’t come back up. He didn’t come back up.
—
©2009 Sean Monaghan
Sean Monaghan is a fan of old stone bridges, especially those that have outlasted their road. More information about his writing at his website www.venusvulture.com
Tags: Sean Monaghan
June 25th, 2009 at 1:36 am
Good story, I enjoyed it very much though I’m pretty sure the poor unfortunate Lou has quite another point of view
June 25th, 2009 at 5:16 am
Some very good descriptions and your dialogue flows along well, Sean. A great build-up of tension. Well done!
June 25th, 2009 at 10:48 am
Marvelous voice and flow. A good and creepy story.
–dj
June 25th, 2009 at 3:16 pm
Thanks for your comments - most appreciated