Sadie was gasping for air by the time she got back to her bedroom. She shut the door, dropped the blanket and leapt onto the bed, balling up in a tight fetal position to try to keep from shivering. It didn’t help. The tremors ran up and down her limbs and her teeth chattered until she stuck the edge of her left hand in her mouth. Biting down on it brought her a small measure of control.
It took a few minutes before she could finally sit up. She leaned over and picked up the fallen blanket, then wrapped it around her shoulders and stared at the door, expecting the worst. Her fingers were still closed on the handle of her utility knife. She wasn’t sure if she still wanted to cut herself or use it as protection against the monsters she’d seen outside.
She tried to convince herself they were just people in disguise, weirdos like Steve and his girlfriend with her fox ears and antlers, which couldn’t be real either. They were probably some cult of freaks who had to dress up like animals to get it on.
Except…except…
When that bird-headed man had turned from the fire to look at her, his eyes, feathers and movement had all been too bird-like to be a mask. They could get away with fooling you in a movie, but CGI didn’t work in real life.
Were the freaks going to come after her now that she’d seen them?
Her grip tightened on the knife.
There was no chair in the room or she would have jammed it under the doorknob—though did that actually work, or was it one more bullshit thing from the movies? And what about the window behind its curtains? What was to stop them from smashing it in?
She forced herself to get off the bed and tiptoe over to it. Hand trembling, she moved the curtains aside barely enough to peer outside. There was nothing to see, only the dark bulk of the mountains.
Her heart leapt into overdrive as an ominous clicking sound entered the hall outside her room.
Sadie’d always thought she was a little tougher than other kids. I mean, she’d dealt with Reggie’s crap for all these years, hadn’t she? Listening to some of the worst stories the foster kids told, she knew she’d never let anyone pull that shit on her, didn’t matter who they were or where they sent her. Maybe cutting and dope wasn’t the best way to deal, but it worked for her. She always found something that worked. There was always an angle, a way you could play people.
But monsters were different. The ones out there were real, and they weren’t people. Her fear shattered her ability to think rationally.
The weird sound came closer and she imagined huge bird feet clawing at her door, a massive beak pecking out her eyes. Sadie stood ramrod stiff, staring at the wood panels. She thumbed the blade of her knife out from its handle, but when the door popped open the knife fell from her hand and she let out a scream.
And felt like a fool.
It was only Ruby—her nails clicking on the floor outside before she’d pushed the door open with her snout. Now the dog sat and looked at Sadie, head cocked as if to ask, what is your problem?
Sadie slid down until she was sitting on her heels. She picked up her knife, palming it from sight when Aggie appeared in the doorway. Her gaze went from Sadie on the floor with a blanket wrapped around her, to Ruby sitting in front of her.
“Is everything all right?” the old woman asked.
Sadie waved the hand that wasn’t hiding the knife. “Yeah, yeah. No need to panic. I just had a bad dream.”
Aggie’s eyes narrowed.
“Seriously,” Sadie said. “That’s all it was. Freaked me out but then I woke up and it’s all better now.”
But she could see as the words left her mouth that it wasn’t going to fly. The old woman knew there was more to it than some nightmare.
“What did you see?” Aggie asked.
“It was just a dream. Who remembers anything from a dream?”
Aggie sighed. “It’s important.”
“Why?”
“Because dreams can be messages and this house is a potent place for dreamers. You wouldn’t be the first the spirits have contacted within these walls.”
“Yeah, except I’m not an Indian.”
Aggie’s steady gaze remained fixed on her. “The soul has no colour.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Sadie said. “I’m not sure I even believe in souls and that kind of stuff.”
Ruby made a throaty sound, somewhere between a grunt and an almost inaudible woof.
Aggie nodded. “I agree,” she said to the dog. “I don’t believe her either.”
Really? Sadie thought. Pretending that the dog could actually understand their conversation. Creepy much? But then she remembered the animal people around the campfire outside. She studied the dog, but all Ruby did was fix her with a mild gaze.
“Can she talk?” Sadie asked, looking up to Aggie.
“Everything can talk,” the old woman replied. “The trick is, not everybody knows how to listen. Now, what did you see in your dream?”
“I…”
Never had a dream, she almost said. But that wasn’t what Aggie wanted to hear. So Sadie told her about dreaming she woke up and went outside, seeing the people around the fire. How when they turned to look at her, they were all like the things in Aggie’s paintings—not really people, but not completely animals, either.
“I freaked out and ran back to the house,” she finished, “and that’s when I woke up. Then I heard Ruby at the door and I thought my dream was coming true. That these monsters were really coming to get me and I hadn’t been dreaming. When Ruby pushed the door open I pretty much lost it.”
Under the blanket still wrapped around her, she clenched and tightened her fingers around the knife. She imagined drawing the sharp blade against her skin and how all the crap building up inside her would flow out like air from a balloon. Maybe one day so much would come out that the only thing left of her would be a heap of skin on the floor.
“Hmm,” Aggie said. She studied Sadie for another long moment, then nodded and turned away from the door.
“Hmm?” Sadie repeated. “That’s all you’ve got to say? What about dreams having meaning? What message are those monsters supposed to be?”
Aggie looked at her over her shoulder. “They aren’t monsters,” she said, “and you weren’t dreaming.” Then she stepped away down the hall.
Sadie scrambled to her feet and brushed past the dog.
“If they’re not monsters,” she shouted at Aggie’s back, “then what would you call them?”
“Friends,” Aggie replied without turning.
She paused at the doorway of her own bedroom to face Sadie.
“Don’t make me regret having invited you into my home,” she said.
Then she shut the door quietly, but with a finality that left no doubt that this conversation was done.
“Well, fuck,” Sadie said.
She went back to her own room. Ruby lay on the floor, her gaze following Sadie as she walked from the door to the bed.
“What are you looking at?” Sadie asked.
She heard Aggie’s words in her head—everything can talk—but the dog hadn’t gotten the memo and didn’t answer.
“Here,” Sadie said. “Take a picture of this.”
She pushed open the blade of the utility knife and drew it quickly across the flesh of her forearm. Not too deep. Just enough to let the new pain swallow some of the old.
She sucked in a breath of air through her teeth and slid down the side of the bed until she was sitting on the floor beside the dog, her arm propped up on her knees. She watched the blood well up, and for the first time today, she felt relaxed. In control.
The dog whined, but didn’t look away.