Night Howl by Andrew Neiderman Read Free Book Online Page A

concerned. Bees in a hive, he thought. Bees in a hive.
    Charley tried to make it sound like something. “We got a pool and a tennis court and a health club, all on the grounds.”
    “Hell, you coulda had your own right here. We got nearly eighty acres. A pool woulda fit in right nice over near the stone wall, and with the slate ground behind the house . . . you could probably lay out a helluva tennis court.”
    “Paula thinks this is the boondocks, Pop. She likes people around her.”
    “Citified.”
    “It’s the way most people are nowadays. They feel more secure.”
    “Never felt insecure out here. You don’t have people running about muggin’ one another. A rapist would freeze to death waitin’ for a woman.”
    “Yeah, maybe you’re right about that.”
    “Look, I ain’t one to interfere. Your mother wasn’t that way and I sure as hell ain’t. Do what makes you happy. Seems a shame though, all this bein’ unused.”
    “It’s too much for you, Pop.”
    “Well... I ain’t doin’ anything with the land . . . just the small garden is all. I think about gettin’ a cow or two, just for the helluva it.”
    “Pop!”
    “But I don’t give it a second thought,” he said. Charley smiled and nodded. “I’m eigthy-one years old, boy.”
    “I know, Pop.”
    “Ten years without your mother.”
    “I know.”
    “Been the saddest ten years of my life. Worse trick she ever played on me—dyin’ before me.”
    “Just like her to upstage you, Pop.”
    The old man nodded. Deep in the back of his mind, rooted forever in his thoughts, was the permanent image of Ethel Marie Houseman, the anchor of his existence, her light brown hair brushed down softly over her bare shoulders, her eighteen-year-old body turned toward him, her arms out. It was right here in this house, with the moonlight tearing through the curtains and the peepers serenading them into the wee hours.
    How many times during the past ten years while he moved through this house did he stop to think about her? How many times did he stop to talk to her? He wasn’t alone as long as he was here. Give up this house and living in it? He might as well give it all up.
    His attention came back to the barn. Night was falling quickly. Whatever it was, it had come to settle in for the evening. He was sure of it. If he was going to do anything, he would have to do it quickly. Best to drive it off, he thought; best to send it packin’. Sorry, Ethel, but I don’t need no wild thing on the grounds. Got enough to worry about with the garden and all.
    He went for his rifle.
    He paused in the hallway by the telephone table before leaving and turned Ethel’s picture to the wall. You don’t have to see me doin’ this, he thought. He laughed at himself. Funny, the things an old man livin’ alone all these years would do. But he couldn’t help it. So much in the house and on the land had spiritual qualities for him. Charley had wanted him to give away all her clothes, but he couldn’t do it. What was the rush, he thought, even though he knew very well she would have wanted it that way; she would havewanted her clothes to go toward helping some poor soul. Forgive me for that one too, Ethel, he thought, and he went out the back door.
    The sun had fallen faster than he had expected. It surprised him; he hadn’t thought it was this dim out when he’d peered through the window. Must be my eyesight, he thought. Or maybe the world always looks brighter to me from the inside of the house. The idea made him laugh. He paused on the back porch, checked to be sure the rifle was loaded, and started down the short wooden steps.
    If it was a dog, he didn’t think he would have to shoot it. What he expected and hoped to do was scare the animal off so that it would never come back. It would run off and follow the road into town where maybe the police would pick it up or someone would take it in, some store owner who’d feed it scraps and keep it in the back of a store.
    If it