Unwritten Rules of Impossible Things

  Chapter Two

  Marcus didn't like running, so he was already in a bit of a mood by the time he caught up to the others, who were already backing away from the fence as the two big dogs charged, jumping up against the metal gate and trying to push it open with their paws and their snouts. The gate swayed dangerously back and forth but didn't give way. Nevertheless, Ben was crouching behind Phil, who was doing his best to appear brave. Those dogs were foaming at the mouth, especially the tan one, which barked less and was all the more frightening for it.

  "There. See? There it is!”

  Phil was shouting as Marcus puffed along beside him. He looked over at the house but didn't see anything right off. It was just another one-story ranch-style bungalow like every other house on the block, distinguished only by its hideous brown stucco exterior and the cheap wire fence which looked like it wouldn't stand up to those dogs much longer.

  "I don't see anything,” Marcus muttered, and Phil yanked his arm and pointed it in the direction of the smallest window on the left. Marcus thought he could see a vague dark shape in there, but there was too much light. He couldn't tell for sure.

  "See it now?" Phil badgered him, and Marcus admitted he did see something, just to be agreeable. Phil wasn't buying it.

  "No you don't,” he dropped Marcus' arm. "If you did then you would. You’d know it."

  "I see it,” Ben volunteered, peeking out from behind the Dark Rider's back.

  "Maybe it's the angle,” Marcus said, and he stepped to one side, then took another step forward, and tilted his head this way and then that. All of a sudden, there it was.

  "Fantastic!” he breathed. "What the heck is that thing?"

  It was huge. It was inside a room that looked like little more than a closet. He could see a little desk in the background, tucked in among some bookshelves that were only half-filled with fat, leaning books, but the moose dominated the scene. It was at least seven feet tall, and was the whole front half of a beast, with curving, winding horns reaching up to the ceiling, a gigantic head and a torso. The head was facing away from the window, at an angle, so you could only just barely make out that the beast had been cut neatly in half, had only two legs and a backside propped up by a stand. It was complete with brown fur, huge eyes, a black nose, but it wasn't a moose. It sure wasn't an antelope either, or a deer, or any other creature that Marcus could tell.

  "I’ve got to find out what that is,” he declared with a sigh.

  "It's a freaking moose or something,” Phil told him but Marcus replied with a shake of his head.

  "That’s no moose,” he said. "No antelope neither. Definitely from Africa, I can tell you that much. Look at those horns. Where do you think they got it?"

  "Why did they get it?” Ben wanted to know, and the older boys laughed.

  "Nobody has a moose in their house,” Phil pronounced, denying the very reality they witnessed that moment.

  "It sure is weird,” Marcus agreed. This was not that kind of neighborhood. Not that kind of city, for that matter. They never heard of any hunters around there, or people rich enough to go on safaris. The people they knew pretty much stuck around. Maybe they had an old boat they would take on the river sometimes. Maybe they souped up a car and would go to the track. Sometimes they'd visit the lake in the summer and camp in the woods, but otherwise, nobody ever went nowhere as far as they knew. They themselves had never been out of the city that they could recall. Marcus and Ben lived on the water, on a rickety old houseboat their father had come across a long time ago, but that thing stayed moored to the dock and its motor hadn't been worked on in years.

  "You know the people who live there?" Marcus asked, and Phil shook his head.

  "But I'm going to find out,” he said. "I'm going to be checking this out. You can count on it."

  This was already the most time that Marcus had even spent around Phil, and the most he had ever heard him say. It was feeling like time to get home.

  "Well,” Marcus said, "you’ll let me know when you do?"

  "Sure,” Phil replied, "I'll let you know,” and he stood there, staring at the thing. He couldn't get enough of it.

  "See ya, then,” Marcus said, and pulled his little brother along. The dogs had already stopped barking but were guarding the gate, one on each side, panting heavily. Phil didn't pay any attention to them. He was almost as if in a trance, and remained there, half an hour or so after the other boys left, until he also finally woke up, and went off.