The Arm–Part 4

Dillon held his breath. He was sure that he had heard something raking its way across his roof just a few minutes before. For a second, his mind had gone to the dark side....thinking that it was the dead arm that had followed him home. But that couldn’t be...could it? He had kicked that twitching madness back into the river. He couldn’t hear anything now. Maybe it had been a branch...or a bird....or....

“Please God,” he whispered, “Anything but that....anything but that....anything but that....”

Just then he jumped as a loud knocking sound came from the front door. His heart went into his mouth as he suddenly had a weird visual image of the arm propped up at his door, knocking and waiting for him to answer. But he knew that it just couldn’t be. Still, he slowly and carefully made his way into the living room and peeked out the side window.

With a sigh of relief, he saw that it was his neighbor, Tom Miller. Mr. Miller lived just down the road from them in an old farm house that he had once shared with his wife before she had run off with another man last year. Dillon had heard his mom and dad whispering about it when they thought he wasn’t listening. Apparently, it was the talk of the town. Dillon had felt bad for Mr. Miller. He was a pretty nice guy...for an adult. He often went fishing with Dillon and his dad.

Unlocking the door, Dillon opened it up.

“Hey there!” Mr. Miller said, stepping into the house, “Didn’t your parents ever tell you not to open the door to just anyone.”

Dillon laughed, “Yeah, but I saw you through the window.”

Mr. Miller just chuckled and nodded his head. The truth was that Dillon was just so glad to have someone else around. He had been having such a weird day that it was nice to have an adult around. It made the world seem to make a little more sense....or at least not be as scary.

“Well, I just came over to check on you. Your mom called me. She and your dad are going to be a little bit later coming home from the hospital,” Tom said, “She wanted me to check on you and make sure that you are okay.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dillon lied, trying not to jump at every little sound that the house made, “Thanks for coming over.”

“Well, I’m not going to stay....” Mr. Miller began.

“Can you though?” Dillon said, “Just until Mom and Dad get back? Mom said that I can microwave something for dinner. Want some spaghetti?”

Dillon hoped that he wasn’t sounding too needy. He just didn’t want to be alone in the house. What if it got dark and his mom and dad hadn’t made it back from the hospital yet? He didn’t want to be in the house alone after dark.

“Hey buddy,” Mr. Miller said, “It’s okay. I’ll stay here until your mom and dad get home. In fact, I’ll just use your phone and let them know. I’m sure they will feel better too! And that spaghetti sounds great....Boyardee?”

Dillon nodded and felt his blood pressure drop. Suddenly things didn’t seem like they were going to be so bad. He would just try to put the days events out of his head. The dead arm....the dead cat.....those things seemed like a dream now. He just wanted to forget them.

But they were there, his mind insisted. Still....there was something to be said about being home...and being safe.

He quickly made his way into the kitchen and popped open two cans of spaghetti. His mom wouldn’t let him actually use the stove while she was gone. But she didn’t mind him using the microwave. He carefully placed a sheet of paper towel over each bowl and set one of them into the microwave. They would be eating in a few minutes! And hopefully his mom and dad would be home sooner than they thought. He could hear Mr. Miller dialing the phone in the living room.

A few seconds later, he heard Mr. Miller jiggling the phone buttons.

“That’s strange,” Mr. Miller called out, “Your phone is dead. You are on the same line as me and mine was working just about 45 minutes ago. It’s not storming or anything. But it is dead as a doornail.”

The mention of the word dead left Dillon feeling cold and clammy. He tried to calm himself down.....it was probably nothing. Or maybe a druggie after a few feet of copper line. It had been done before. Still....he didn’t like not having a phone.

The buzzer sounded on the microwave and so he took out the first bowl that was now steaming hot and full of bubbling spaghetti. Placing the second one inside, he set the timer for 3 minutes and pressed start. The whirring of the microwave was comforting. It spoke of comfort....good food....and being safe.

Mr. Miller came into the kitchen, “I’m sure that the phone company is working on it. I just don’t know why it is dead.”

Dillon just shrugged.

“You know,” Tom continued, “Your mom might try to call here and won’t be able to get through. How about after we eat that we go back to my place and I can try to call your parents there. Or I can go by myself if you don’t want to come with me.”

“No, no!” Dillon said, “I don’t mind. I’ll go.”

Again he noticed the little bit of panic in his voice. But he didn’t want to be alone.

Dillon was setting the two bowls of spaghetti on the table while Mr. Miller washed his hands at the sink.

“That’s strange,” Tom said, “There’s someone walking around in your back yard. It’s some old woman!”

Dillon ran over to the window and peeked out. There was indeed some old woman in their back yard. She was shuffling around in what looked like an old house coat. Dillon saw that she didn’t have shoes on her feet. She had her back turned to then so he couldn’t see her face....but he started to feel uneasy. Something just wasn’t right.

“Stay here,” Mr. Miller said, “I’m going out there to see if she’s okay.”

Before Dillon could stop him....could say anything....Mr. Miller was out the door. Dillon watched as he marched across the back yard. He could hear him talking to the woman...asking her who she was and what she was doing here. The old woman didn’t act like she heard him. Finally, Mr. Miller reached the old woman’s side. He touched her arm.

Dillon wanted to scream out...NO! But nothing would come out of his mouth. Slowly the woman turned to face Mr. Miller.

She just stood there, staring at him like he was some creature from outer space with two heads. She didn’t say a thing. She just swayed from side to side.

Mr. Miller said something else, but Dillon couldn’t make it out. Finally, he turned back to the window from which Dillon was watching.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but she needs help,” Mr. Miller said, “Go and check the phones. See if they are working again. We need to call....”

But he never got another word out. Suddenly the old woman lunged at Mr. Miller and sank her teeth into his throat. He fell down on the grass as the weight of the woman knocked into him.

Dillon watched in horror as Mr. Miller tried to knock her off. But she must have been stronger than she looked because she grabbed his hands and held him down. Blood spurted up into the air as she bit a large chunk from his throat. Dillon could hear Mr. Miller’s gurgled screams. And then the old woman was on him again....biting and chewing. Dillon watched as one of Mr. Miller’s legs twitched. He heard a high pitched whine and then suddenly realized it was him.....he was trying to scream, but the sound wasn’t coming out.

Running on pure instinct, he made his way over to the door and locked it. Dark flowers began to bloom in front of his eyes. Just as his fingers turned the lock, the dark flowers spread across his vision....and then he knew nothing. The bliss of unconsciousness took him.

Until next week....class dismissed!