They Call Me Creature (2 page)

“Some kids might think I made a weird choice,” I admitted. “But I could never live in a city. If I didn't live near the woods, I'd go crazy.”

“Chicago sounds pretty exciting to me. I'd move there in a minute,” Ellen said. She peered into the distance, at a large black bird flapping over the trees.

I watched it, too. Its wings beat rapidly against its body. Hard, almost frantic.

Another bird rose from the treetops. Flying toward us. Then changing direction abruptly. Flying away. Then back toward us. Frantic. Confused.

The woods echoed with a sharp cry as another bird soared from the treetops. Then a cloud of birds rose up. A dark cloud of beating wings. Beating so hard, it sounded like thunder.

I blinked, startled. “What is going on?” I cried.

More birds flew from the woods. Hundreds of them. Flying in a tight circle. Blocking out the sun. Plunging us into darkness.

Ellen grabbed my arm. “Wow. What
is
that?” she whispered.

“I don't know,” I gasped, watching the birds, a black tornado swirling, spinning above the trees. “I've never seen birds swarm like that!”

The birds screeched and cawed. Flying low then rising high, flying round and round, circling the woods, squawking louder with each turn.

I heard the snap of a twig behind me.

I turned and saw that Dad had followed us outside. Behind his thick glasses, he gazed up at the sky. His hand trembled as he pushed a lock of hair from his eyes.

“Something has them stirred up,” he whispered. “Something is wrong out there, Laura. Don't go. Don't go into the woods today.”

 

“I—I have to go,” I replied. “My project …”

Dad stared at the swirling black funnel cloud of shrieking birds. “Birds don't act like that unless something is terribly wrong,” he said softly.

And then he took off, running full speed across the back lawn.

“Dad!” I shouted. “Dad—where are you going? Come back!”

He didn't turn around. I watched him vanish into the trees.

“What is he doing?” Ellen asked, her hands pressed to her face.

“I don't know,” I said, huddling next to her. We watched the dark cloud of birds, circling, circling. Their shrill, frantic cries echoed in my head.

I raised my hands to my ears to block out the noise—and the cries suddenly stopped. The birds circled now in eerie silence. Their flapping wings slowed.

They swooped down, down to the woods. Hidden by the leafy treetops, they disappeared. The sky glowed in the sunlight again. And once again I could hear the gentle rustle of the wind.

Ellen collapsed onto the grass. “That was so totally scary. Those birds—they seemed really angry. I thought they were going to attack us. But then they just vanished.”

“I've never seen anything like that before,” I said, my heart pounding. “I'll bet Dad is right. Something stirred them up. But what?”

I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Dad? Where are you?”

No reply.

Ellen climbed to her feet. “Do you still want to take photos?” She brushed her hair back. “Do you think it's safe?”

I stared at the sky over the trees. The sun sparkled brightly. No birds in sight. “We'll be okay,” I told her.

Georgie, my German shepherd, came trotting around the side of the house. His tail started wagging when he saw us.

He came running up to me first. He knows I'm his best friend. I grabbed his neck, and we started wrestling on the grass.

“We're bringing Georgie with us—right?” Ellen asked.

I nodded. “Of course. I wouldn't go into the woods without him. Georgie and I have been exploring the woods together since he was a little puppy.”

Ellen led the way across the grass, and I followed after her. The camera bounced against my chest as I walked. “My project is due in less than two weeks,” I groaned. “And I hardly have any photos.”

My science project was to study the plant and animal life at Luker Pond. I had already photographed the different kinds of plant life. Now I needed to photograph some animal life.

I thought it would be easy. But I had visited the pond every afternoon for a week, and I was having trouble finding animals.

Ellen jogged up to the woods. Her hair swung behind her like a horse's tail. Georgie and I caught up with her at the forest's edge.

She lifted her eyes to the sky above the trees. “What do you think happened?” she asked. “Do you think some big animal frightened the birds from their nests?”

“I don't know,” I replied. “And why did my dad—”

I stopped short when I heard the howl.

A high, shrill cry. The sound of an animal in pain.

Georgie raised his head, tensed his back, and started to bark furiously.

The animal howled again.

I stepped into the woods and listened carefully, trying to locate the sound.

Another howl. A wail of agony.

But it wasn't coming from the woods.

I spun around. “Whoa. It's coming from the garden shed,” I said, pointing.

The shed is square and wood-shingled. It stands halfway between the house and the woods. It's nearly as big as a one-car garage, with a solid wood door and a flat roof.

“What's in there?” Ellen asked. “What is crying like that?”

“I don't know,” I told her. “Dad won't let me go near it.”

Ellen squinted hard at the shed. The howling finally stopped. “Laura, I don't want you to take this the wrong way—but it's getting kind of creepy around your house.”

I laughed.

“What kind of work is he doing in there?” She continued to stare at the shed.

I sighed. “Some kind of research, I guess. He gets too weird when I ask him about it, so I'm not exactly sure. I tried to go in and take a look last week. But he keeps the door locked.”

I leaned down and petted Georgie. Then we stepped into the shade of the forest, onto a winding dirt path that curved through the tall trees.

“Why did your dad leave his job at the animal hospital?” Ellen asked. “Was he fired?”

“I don't know,” I said, pushing a low branch out of the way. “He won't tell me. He hardly speaks to me anymore. I don't know what to think.”

Ellen's eyes flashed. She grabbed my arm. “I know what happened, Laura.” A sly grin spread over her face. “I know why he left his job. Your dad and Dr. Carpenter were going out—and she dumped him!”

“YUCK!” I exclaimed. I put my finger down my throat and pretended to puke. “That is
so
not what happened,” I said. “Dad and Dr. Carpenter? No way.”

Dad and Dr. Carpenter have known each other for four years, ever since she moved here to run the animal hospital. If she and Dad had some kind of romance going on, I'd know about it.

“You're wrong,” I said. “They never went out on a single date or anything.”

“But she comes to your house all the time,” Ellen argued.

“Not anymore,” I murmured.

Dr. Carpenter used to come over a few times a week. We'd all hang out together. Watch videos or play Scrabble. Dad liked to make up crazy words to try to trick Dr. C. It was a lot of fun.

I loved her visits. It was great to have someone I could talk to about stuff—friends, clothes, teachers.

“I'm telling you—she dumped him!” Ellen insisted.

Dad and Dr. Carpenter? I didn't think so.

But then why
did
Dad leave the animal hospital? Dr. Carpenter said Dad was the best vet in the world. She wouldn't fire him—would she?

We climbed over a fallen tree, blanketed with thick green and yellow fungus. We were almost to the pond.

“Let's talk about this fabulous birthday party I'm throwing for you,” I said. I wanted to change the subject. “I need a list. Who do you want me to invite?”

“Only boys,” Ellen replied. She grinned.

“You're joking, right?” I said.

“Why don't you invite that guy you met, Joe?” Ellen suggested. “I'd really like to meet him.”

“Hey!” I said sharply. “I saw him first!”

I turned and saw Georgie examining a pile of dead leaves. Sniffing hard, he started to paw furiously at the leaf pile.

“Georgie—get away from there!” I shouted. “Georgie—no!”

Ellen made a disgusted face. “Whoa. What is he doing?”

Ellen doesn't really like being outdoors that much. She doesn't like dirt, bugs, or forest animals. She'd much rather be home, reading a book or writing in her diary. She's a great writer, and she's the editor of our school newspaper.

But because she's such a good friend, she goes into the woods with me to keep me company.

“Georgie—get away from there!” I shouted.

The dog ignored me. Grunting, he buried his head in the fat pile of brown leaves—and pulled out something in his teeth.

“What
is
that?” Ellen cried. She pressed her hands to the sides of her face. “What has he got?”

“Let me see it, Georgie,” I said, stepping toward him, reaching out my hand. “Drop. Drop it, boy. What have you got?”

I edged closer. “What is it, boy? What do you have there?”

The dog let out a grunt. Then his jaws snapped open, and the object dropped to the ground.

Ellen and I stared down at it—and we both began to scream.

“It's—it's a finger!” I cried. “A human finger!”

 

Georgie barked at it, his tail wagging furiously. Then he took off, heading home.

“Oh, gross,” Ellen moaned, shutting her eyes. “Is it really a finger? I'm going to be totally sick.”

I stepped up to it and poked it with my shoe. I squatted down to see it better.

“Yes, it's a finger,” I said weakly. My stomach lurched. I studied it. “But … maybe it's not from a person.”

Ellen had her hands over her face, and she had turned away. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Well … the skin is kind of leathery. And the fingernail is pointed. And it's so hairy….”

“SHUT UP!” Ellen screamed. “Don't talk about it anymore! Let's just get away from it.” She started back to the path. But I didn't get up. I stared at the finger more closely.

“Strange,” I murmured. “It's really ragged at the end. It looks like it was torn off.”

“Just shut up about it,” Ellen said. “I feel sick. Really.”

“Here. Catch!” I shouted. I pretended to toss it to her.

She screamed and ducked, even though I didn't have anything in my hand. “Not funny, Laura,” she muttered. “Hey—why don't you take a photo of it? For your science project.”

“I'm supposed to photograph whole animals,” I said. “Not just parts.”

But I should take it home, I thought. Show it to Dad. Maybe he knew what kind of animal had fingers like this.

I didn't want to freak Ellen out. So while she wasn't looking, I picked up the finger. I kept it hidden in my palm so she wouldn't see it.

Ellen and I wandered through the woods. White moths fluttered over Luker Pond. High in a tree, I heard the
knock-knock-knock
of a woodpecker. Yes! Excellent! I
needed
that woodpecker! I raised the camera to my eye and searched the tree for it.

“I've got to go,” Ellen said. “What time is it, anyway?”

I studied the trees through the camera viewfinder. “Close to three, I think.”

“Oh, wow. I've
really
got to go,” Ellen said. “I promised Stevie Palmer I'd play tennis with him at three.” She jumped over a flat stone and started to jog away.

Stevie Palmer—blond hair, blue eyes, great athlete—Ellen's latest crush.

“And don't forget to invite Stevie to my party!” she shouted.

“No, wait!” I cried, lowering the camera. “Who else should I invite? Who else?”

She turned back, pulling her hair behind her shoulder. “Invite
everybody
!” she yelled. Then she disappeared behind a stand of evergreen shrubs.