either it never came inside at all or simply let him be.
He replaced the knife back to its rightful place in the block and gazed out the window above the sink. He eyes widened and his mouth dropped a little at what he saw. Expecting to see the deer feeder sitting at the back of the yard near the woods or maybe even the wolf prowling about in the yard, he instead saw nothing. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief. “Where the hell is my deer feeder?”
He ran back to the door and flipped the locks open, prepared to run out to the field when something on the porch at the top of the steps blocked his path. Sitting neatly in front of him was the blue drum with the pieces of cut up apples still inside. Next to it were the two wooden crosses he nailed together for the feeder to rest on.
He scratched his head. “Huh? I know I put this out in the field.” Picking up the pieces, it took another two trips across the same stretch of land that threatened to twist his ankles and subdue him. He set it up closer to the house the second time, taking a minute afterward to look toward the woods, hoping for some sort of explanation as to how it got back to the house. That's when a small gleam in the grass caught his eye closer to the trees. He approached the tree line to investigate and as soon as he was close enough his hand shot to his mouth to cover his surprising gasp and nose from the metallic smell that filled the air. Just a few feet from where he had first placed the deer feeder was a large amount of blood all over the grass. It shone a bright and unreal red against the dull summer-worn grass. A large streaking trail traced a path all the way back to the woods, leading inside. That was enough for him. Deja-vu swam through his veins as he ran back through the field again. Without the noises, the pursuer, or the threat of possibly being tackled from behind, he ran at a less hurried pace. Once he reached the back of the house he looked back and saw the empty field still silent and mysterious. It now held a clue that a killer was living in the woods.
He decided the best course of action would be to stay in the house for the rest of the day. Ohio summers meant long days where the sun didn't set until nearly nine o’clock. He made sure every window was locked, secured the only door to the outside and spent the next hour frantically checking outside for any sign of the killer. When checking the window above the kitchen sink one last time, he noticed a blinking red light on the cordless phone’s charging base. On the small square display, the number one blinked for a message aching to be heard. James pushed the play button underneath the display, sending his father's voice through the speaker.
“Hey James, it's your dad,” his voiced rumbled through the poor-quality speaker. Typical emergency room noise could be heard in the background. A series of beeps and intercom messages echoed, creating a panicked cacophony. “You must be out exploring the wild. Hope you got something made for the deer. Can't wait to see it! Anyway, I'll be home in an hour or so with the pizza. Love you, buddy.”
James breathed a huge sigh at the message. Hearing his dad would be home soon dropped his blood pressure and allowed him to relax a little. He could finally let go of the fear that had gripped him since everything with the deer feeder began. But the fear and anxiety has resulted in a large chemical cocktail coursing through his blood stream, and like eating an entire bag of Halloween candy, it followed with a crash. James plopped down onto the couch, stared at the darkened TV and waited. He dozed on the couch out of sheer boredom, and by the time his dad finally got home it was already dark outside. The clicking of Nolan fumbling with the unexpectedly locked door startled him awake.
Nolan looked at his son with his sleepy eyes and laughed. “All that running around and fresh air wore you out, huh?”
James nervously laughed at the irony of his dad’s words. “Yeah...must have.”
Nolan set two large pizza boxes on the table. “How come the door was locked?”
James fiddled with his fingers nervously while he replied. “Must've been habit from living in the city.”
Nolan laughed. “Well, the country is different, you don't just have people walking into your house out here! It's nice to not have to worry about strangers creeping around in the dark.”
James wanted to tell his dad the real reason he locked the door. He was afraid that a wolf wandering in the woods was going to come inside and get him. His dad knew the country well, but James had seen the blood for himself. He had seen the killer waiting in the backyard, and he had heard the horrendous sound of life leaving something behind him as he ran. But he was still a child, and as such, he believed that his father knew best. He didn't quite have the inner strength to stand up against his father’s knowledge or beliefs so instead he quickly changed the subject.
“Two pizzas?”
“Well, you are a growing boy!” James smiled at that. “So, how did the deer feeder go?”
There it was again. The day’s earlier events replayed in his mind, distracting him and forcing him to fumble his words. “G…good, I think.”
“Well let's see it, eh? It'll only take a sec.” Nolan reached into a cupboard above the refrigerator and pulled out a huge flashlight.
Like a good portion of humanity, James was afraid of the dark. Furthermore, he was new to the countryside, miles from the familiar glow of street lamps and front porches. The idea of wandering out into that yard, toward those already creepy-in-the-daytime woods with the possibility of a blood thirsty wolf stalking the premises, was only plausible with the fact that his dad was there. He couldn't deny the excitement on his dad’s face, despite his fears. James nodded and they were off.
The moon was nowhere to be seen and the only spot they could see was the small circle from the flashlight that led them along through the darkness. James felt disoriented as they walked along through the field, imagining they were floating through empty space. After a few moments, they finally landed at the deer feeder.
“Impressive!” Nolan hollered, patting James on the back. “I would have never thought to use that old barrel, that's clever!”
Inside the apples sat untouched. “Thanks,” he said, “it was nothing.” Somewhere in the black nothingness around them the blood still stained the grass. They couldn't see it and James wasn’t sure he wanted to. He just wanted to get the hell back into the house. He was relieved to hear his dad's smiling through his voice even though he couldn't see his face.
“All right, let's go have some pizza!” As they turned to head back toward the house James heard something behind them. He looked, but he could hardly see his own hand, let alone anything even a couple feet away. He reassured away the anxiety, saying to himself that it was just misplaced sound made by his dad or even himself. He hadn't told his dad about the wolf he saw, and honestly, he didn't want to accept the fact that it could be right there watching them, licking its lips and preparing for the kill.
Day Two
4
Sleeping in the country, for a city boy, was a unique experience. In fact, it might’ve even been healthy. The air quality was better but the biggest change was the lack of noise. Back home, James let the TV run all night in his room with the volume turned down. One reason was because he was afraid of the dark, even though he told everyone he didn't believe in monsters or ghosts. Maybe he had just seen too many movies to honestly not believe it. Regardless, experience will always reveal what is truly believed. The other reason was that at his old house there was an underlying hum as if the city itself was alive. James got used to this hum and the constant barrage of noise, and so he had a hard time sleeping when it was relatively quiet. He was always looking for something on TV, a song to put on or someone to talk to. Even at night he couldn't sleep without some sort of noise to act like a protective barrier between him and the silence of the unknown. If nothing else, the TV was just a city boy white noise machine.
Waking up on the second day was a combination of uneasy misplacement and exhilarating relaxation. The first thing that came to his mind was the deer feeder. James threw on his shoes and bolted out the front door, sprinting through the backyard. He was amazed at the effect a
quiet night’s rest had on him. All the anxiety and fear over a big bad wolf completely evaporated from his consciousness. It had instead been replaced by the wonder and hope that something he had made with his own two hands could work. The morning was already warm and it would only get hotter. He didn't know what to expect, but when he finally reached the feeder he was disappointed and happy. He was happy that it was still full. He hadn't missed any chance to see the deer or the wolf by running out of bait. It also vaguely implied that with no deer around, the predator was also gone. However, he was also disappointed by the fact that the apples looked untouched, which made him wonder whether it would work at all. Confusion occupied his mind and was only further intensified by the fact that the pool of blood and its trail into the woods was gone. He stared in disbelief at the ground. He was absolutely sure of what he had seen yesterday. Rubbing his eyes didn't change reality. The blood was gone.
Did it come back and lick up all the blood off the grass? What the hell kind of wolf does that? This gave a whole new meaning to the term blood-thirsty. His head swam as he walked back to the house. Once inside, he saw his dad standing at the counter pouring himself some coffee.
“Nice to see you up