Aardvarks resemble domestic pigs.

Besides coming from Africa, they are medium in size and slow moving.

Common sense would dictate that I wouldn’t have seen one loping through my backyard last month.

Desperate to find someone to validate my story, I knocked on my neighbor’s door to tell them what I had seen.

Eventually both my neighbors came outside to hear my story.

Frustrated that neither of them believed me, I began my quest to find where the aardvark had run off to.

Goodness knows where it went.

Had it left tracks it would have been easy to follow, and the tracks could be used as evidence of its existence.

I began to have doubts that I had seen it.

Just when I began to think I was delusional, I saw it again.

Knowing that I might not be able to capture it, I ran into the house to find my digital camera.

Luck was not on my side, as it took me several minutes to locate the memory card.

Meanwhile, the aardvark once again disappeared for parts unknown.

No one would believe me without evidence, so I began to walk around the neighborhood, looking for my imagined beast.

Obsessed with finding the aardvark, I spent the next two hours searching before I thought I had found it.

Perhaps it was wishful thinking on my part that I had seen it again.

Quietly I snuck up on the spot where I thought the animal was resting.

Reality set in when I noticed my “aardvark” was a small child’s wading pool.

Stuff always seems to look different when you’re chasing after it.

Thoroughly disappointed, I abandoned the search and slowly headed back towards my home.

Ultimately I decided my neighbors were right; I hadn’t seen an aardvark in my backyard after all.

Vigilantly I searched for the aardvark on my way home with the faint hope I might stumble across it before I arrived back at my residence.

When I made it back, several people had congregated in my driveway, many laughing at how preposterous they thought my story was.

X-rays of my head were suggested by the next-door neighbor.

Yet to this very day I still believe that an aardvark had run across my yard.

Zebras aren’t usually seen in this area either, but last night, I thought I saw a zebra in my backyard!

---

And here I sit. I must have come here a thousand times. Will I do it this time? Or will I run like a coward with my tail between my legs. The question is–what has brought me here today? I’m not really sure. Is it just discontent with life, or am I sick of life in general? I’m not sure.  I could just start the car and drive away but, since I’m here.

 The lake is beautiful this time of morning, the water calm and not too many people are around. There is a slight chill in the air, not bad for early June. The last time I tried this it was cold.  What do they say–“bitter cold”? I believe it was twenty-something below zero.  That temperature is pretty normal for a Wisconsin winter day. In those winter months the sun does not come up until much later in the morning and more people are out and about before the sun hits the horizon. I chickened out as I have done all the other times in the past. Maybe today will be different?

            The first time I tried this I was on horseback; automobiles were not invented at that time. Milwaukee was just in her infancy. The city may have had one, maybe two thousand people at most. The landscape looks so different now. I know what brought me there that day. I wanted all of it to end; I could not stand for another minute the thought of what I had become.

 My family consisted of Amish farmers and craftsmen. Something was killing the cattle and since I was the oldest son, and a better hunter than my younger brothers, I stayed with the cattle that night. I tried to conceal myself in the hay stack as best I could with my best rifle at my side. The cattle were startled; something had brought one of them down within yards of me. As I got to my feet, I was thrown back down. The fiend was on me.

The pain scourged on my throat. I tried to fight him off, but he was too strong for me. I felt for my rifle to no avail. I did feel the handle of the shovel my brother broke while playing around earlier in the day. I heaved the handle in the fiend’s back and he was reduced to ashes seconds later.

Distraught, I lay on the hay, trying to compose myself. My heart was thudding hard in my chest. The dust that fell on me was biting my skin; the smell was sickly and pungent. As I felt the chasm at my neck, I blacked out. The next night I woke with a hunger I will never forget.  To this day I am haunted; I am haunted, by the memory. I still hear my blessed mother’s chilling scream from my hideous acts. I could not meet the sun on horseback that day.

Will I meet the sun this day? How the scarlet-ginger light grows against the horizon.  First light looks so much different than twilight. I cannot look away. The burn, I can feel the skin on my face starting to singe, just a few more seconds.  Oh, how magnificent the sun, how I miss its warmth. My flesh feels on the cusp of starting ablaze. Anguish. Will I last longer than last time? Oh the grandeur of the light.  How exquisite. Just another minute.  And here I sit. (Hearing the mechanical sound of the car window rolling up and the car engine starting.)

---

            Jim got up. He put his robe on and walked down the hallway past the dog. The animal snored. You could see her eyeballs move under her eyelids. A dog dreaming in the hallway ain’t a bad thing, Jim might’ve thought had he hung around and assessed the beast, but Jim was in the kitchen frying eggs on the General Electric stove.

            While the eggs crackled, Jim pulled the pepper and salt from the cupboard. He put them down, grabbed the oven mitt hanging from the tequila-bottle-fridge magnet and walked back towards the stove. Jim watched the pair of yokes change from yellow to pink. He slid his weathered hand in the mitt, took hold of the cast iron pan and spun his way towards the table.

            He tilted the pan over the plate so the eggs would slide off but they didn’t. He tilted it more and more but the eggs hung to the pan like a baby to a boob. He looked around for a fork or knife, something within arm’s reach he could use to scrape the eggs off the goddamned cast iron but there was nothing.

            Jim flipped the pan right side up and walked towards the silverware drawer that was once full of silverware but was now full of plastic McDonald’s knives and Taco Bell sporks. At the time his wife Sue had left him, Jim didn’t have any money but he did have silverware and a refurbed fifty-four Ford. With the blessing of a judge, Sue took the truck and the spoons and the knives and the forks. She went to Tucson, married a Mexican and had another kid, Shelby, the half-sister of Jim’s sixteen year old son, Little Teddy.

            Jim grabbed a spork and, pan in hand, headed back to the plate. He scraped off the eggs. The fiery-eyed yokes glared back at him, angry at being dislodged from their warm cast iron bed. With his wife and her bullshit in the back of his mind, Jim stared the eggs down. Under his gaze the left yoke broke and bled yellow over the thin, cool porcelain plate.

            Ten minutes later, Jim was done eating. He sat on the front stoop of the house smoking a menthol cigarette. He watched the five-fifteen sky give way to the five-sixteen sky. The air was cold and Jim could see his breath. Fag to his lips, he took a drag, blew it out and watched it float away, presumably to Tucson.

            Jim looked at his watch. It was five-twenty. He stood up and walked down the stoop’s concrete steps. He stopped, took one last pull off the Newport and snuffed it out on the asphalt driveway. He put the butt in his pocket because he didn’t want Little Teddy to see it.

            Jim made his way to the side of the garage. Detached from the house, it sat at the back of the lot. He opened the door, walked through the workshop and shimmied his way in between the sheetrockless wall and “Purdy,” Jim’s big rig. The garage was dark, poorly lit, but the truck glowed purple. It was a mean truck.

            A single green LED light glowed on the wall. Jim pressed it. The garage opener’s motor growled as it hauled up the door. Jim watched the dim morning light spill on the truck. Purdy seemed to smile as she looked down the driveway towards the road and the world.

            The door was fully open and Jim hopped in Purdy’s cab. He started her up, grabbed his log book from the glove compartment and stepped out. While the truck idled a voice came through its speakers. The radio was on and someone was talking about something or other but Jim didn’t hear it. He was half way down the driveway walking westward.

            Two plastic wrapped newspapers sat motionless about five feet from the street. Jim picked them up, turned round and headed back east. Jim slid the Financial Times out of its bag and looked over the pink paper’s headlines but found nothing of interest. “This is Teddy’s paper. I can’t get into this shit,” he thought. He looked up at the idling truck and could see that she was ready.

            He walked up the stoop of the house and opened the door. He stepped inside, set the papers on the counter and considered lifting another Newport from Kara’s purse. Kara was Little Teddy’s girlfriend, and she had spent the night but Jim thought the better of it. He left her purse and her cigarettes alone and stepped outside and into the humming truck.

            He lifted the brakes, put Purdy in gear and inched out the garage and onto the asphalt. Half way down the driveway the lowest branch of the big front yard pine blessed Purdy’s crown. “Five miles to the trailer and about a thousand to the coast,” thought Jim.

            Jim stopped the truck at the end of the driveway. He spun the radio dial, found an old country station and turned the treble up. He looked up the street and down it. No one to the right and nobody to the left. He pulled his foot off the brake and turned Purdy south.

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Shadow Game

 

Chapter 1

          It’s nine in the morning. Allen Shadow is sitting handcuffed to a chair in the psychiatrist’s office, at the State Correctional Facility. Dr. Bellows walks in dressed in black slacks and a green blouse. She takes a seat behind her desk and takes some files out of a drawer. She glances over them quickly and then looks up to see the prisoner across from her. He has a forest green jumpsuit on, and it makes his hazel green eyes jump out at her with mystery.                  

            “Hello Mr. Shadow. I am Dr. Bellows. I’ve been assigned by the judge to evaluate you to see if you’re competent to stand trial.”

            “I am aware of that,” says Allen, an annoyed look on his face.

            “Now, I understand that you have been charged with the murder of a 32 year old woman named Allison Coy. Are you also aware of that?”

            Allen adjusts himself in his seat and frowns.

            “Yes, sadly, I am also aware of that. But you have to understand,” Allen starts, but then is cut off by Dr. Bellows.

            “Allen, that is exactly what I am here for. So please, explain everything you can remember.”

Allen straightens up and leans in towards Dr. Bellows.

            “Okay, I was seeing this girl, Sofia. We were rather close. We were together for almost a year. I was very in love with her. She had this light brown hair, crystal blue eyes, and one mean set of…uh…any ways, she was gorgeous.”

Dr. Bellows feels the warmth in her cheeks and notices she is blushing.

            He continues, “So, we went out to this bar. We were just having a few drinks, and Sofia got up to use the bathroom. After a couple minutes, this chick walks up to me, taps me on the shoulder, and I turn to see what she wants, you know. Well, she lays this big wet kiss on me and then just walks away. I get up and follow that chick, just to see why she did that. I finally catch up to her and she turns and kisses me again. I push her back and ask her what the hell she was doing!

            She says, “Do you love that girl you were here with?”

            I tell her, yeah!

            Then she says, “Well I’m sorry but that little bitch is dead!”

            “I go blank for a minute, trying to register what this lady just said. I run to the bathroom to check on Sofia. I’m banging on the door…no answer…I push the door open…check the first stall…nothing…check the second one…I see blood everywhere. It’s on the floor, on the toilet…and there she was…beautiful Sofia…lying curled up on the side of the toilet. It looked like she had been beaten in the head with the toilet seat back. There was blood all over the walls, on the floor, it was everywhere! I couldn’t believe what was happening!”

            Dr. Bellows could see Allen was starting to cry.

            “God, I really miss her. She even looked beautiful dead.”

Allen then tries moving his handcuffed hands to try and imitate what he was talking about. “I go to her, put her head in my arms, blood is oozing from her ears, her nose, everywhere. She was slightly breathing, but was far too gone to ever come back. At that moment, rage filled my entire body like never before.”

As Allen is talking, Dr. Bellows is writing things on a legal pad. As he is speaking about Sofia’s beautiful dead body, he looks up at Dr. Bellows, watches her slowly bend down to pick up her pen which dropped. He licks his lips, and just watches her. He adjusts himself in the chair again and continues.

 

            “After that, all I can remember is having a cork screw in my hand, full of blood…and Allison is laying on the floor in front of me…Gurgling and gasping for air. Then the cops came, and now I am here.”       

            Dr. Bellows looks up at him confused.

             “Mr. Shadow, when the cops arrived on the scene, do you know that the only dead body there was Allison’s. There was no body in the bathroom…no blood…no signs of foul play whatsoever! They’ve tried looking Sofia up, but you can’t seem to come up with a last name for someone you dated for a year-“

            The prisoner becomes frustrated and begins to shout.

            “Are you trying to tell me I am lying? That she didn’t exist! Our love was so strong, I didn’t need her last name…we were beyond names.”

Dr. Bellows gets up to go to her filing cabinet. As she does, Allen glances at her business card which is lying on the desk right beside him. While she’s shuffling through drawers, he memorizes her home phone number, continually saying it in his mind. Before she turns around, he gives a slight grin and lick of his lips as he watches her from behind. Once again, he adjusts himself in his chair and puts a little frown back on his face.

            “Well, can you tell me why, why on earth, there was no sign of Sofia at all?” Dr. Bellows says as she searches through the file in front of her.

            “Do you want to know what I really think?” Allen lowered his voice and his eyes started to fill with tears.

            Dr. Bellows nods her head…then she takes her eyes off of the file and glances at his eyes. She still can’t seem to shake the feeling that he’s being truthful. She’s trying hard to remain professional, but she can’t help her compassion for the guy.

            “I think that with an angel like Sofia, God had to snatch her up right away, body and all. So he could protect anyone else from witnessing such an angel involved in such a tragedy.”

            A tear falls from his eye and he begins to sniffle. Dr. Bellows takes a tissue and gently rubs it under his nose. After a brief moment of making eye contact, Dr. Bellows focuses on the clock behind Allen. She notices the time and remembers another appointment she has in about five minutes. “Well Allen, I am sorry but our time is up. I will not be seeing you anymore. I have recorded our meeting today, so Dr. Anderson is filled in on today’s session, since he is going to be evaluating you from now on.”

            Allen begins to panic. “What, why?”

            “I am transferring to another facility. But don’t worry, you’ll like Dr. Anderson, he’s very good.”

The guards come in and uncuff Allen’s hands and feet from the chair. Allen takes one more glance at the business card. Dr. Bellows gets out of her chair and is tempted to shake his hand, but resists.

            “It was a pleasure Allen; I hope things work out for you.”

            “Oh, they will, I’ll see you soon,” he mysteriously states.

Allen gives a smile and walks out. Dr. Bellows replays the words in her head over and over. “I’ll see you soon.” She shakes it off, grabs her jacket and heads out the door.

                                      Chapter 2

Dr. Bellows has arrived back home after her day at the State Correctional Facility and after meeting Allen Shadow. She lives in a small town in an old farm house that her father passed down to her when he died. It’s a three story home, the third floor mainly used for storage. The outside of her home has endless fields of nothing. Her nearest neighbor lives about a mile away. Dr. Bellows walks up a narrow brick path and grabs her key out of her purse to unlock her front door. The house resembles something that should have been abandoned long ago. The windows rattle if it’s just a little windy and the brown paint is peeling and chipping away. There are two large pine trees to the left and right of the front porch. She walks up the steps and unlocks the door.

            Upon entering her house she smells her Air Wick wall spray. She has autumn harvest spray in there now. She also smells the chuck roast which was in the slow cooker since this morning. After setting her keys down, Dr. Bellows looks above her old brick fireplace and sees her wedding picture. It has been almost three years since she became a widow. Her husband, Steve Bellows, was in a horrible car accident coming home one night. He was on life support for about a month when Dr. Bellows had to make the decision whether to keep him on the life support. She chose not to and has had a very hard time living with herself ever since.

            Dr. Bellows takes a seat on the couch and grabs the remote. She flips stations a few times when “Gone with the Wind” catches her eye. It was her and Steve’s favorite movie. She gets up and walks down a small hallway to the kitchen. She went for a typical farm house theme, chickens and pigs. Even her clock has a pig face right in the center and says oink for every hour that passes. Dr. Bellows takes a plate out of the top shelf of her old wooden cabinet and makes a plate of the chuck roast, pours a glass of Merlot and sits back on the couch.

            She is so tuned into the movie, she only takes a few bites, finishes her wine and empties the rest down the garbage disposal. Now, same as every night, she heads up stairs to change in to her nightgown. Tonight Dr. Bellows has chosen the pearl blue lacy one. Steve always liked that one, but she always thought it made her look old. She crawls into her satin sheets and covered her self up when all of the sudden the phone rings.

            “Hello?”  (No answer so she says it again.)

“Hello?”

            “Is this the infamous Dr. Bellows, Dr. Angela Bellows?”

            “Yes, and who is this?”

            “I told you I’d be seeing you real soon, remember?”

            All the blood seemed to drain from her body. She recognized the voice on the other end.

                                      Chapter 3

 

          “Is this you Allen?”

            Allen whispers, “I’ve been thinking about you.”

            “How did you get this number? You can get into a lot of trouble for this you know!”

            He begins again, “Like I was saying, I’ve been thinking about you and now I know why I can’t get you out of my mind.”

Dr. Bellows isn’t really sure what to do at this point. She grabs her cell phone with her other hand and thinks for a moment about calling 911. But then she realizes, he is after all in jail, so why not see what he wants.

            “Okay, Allen, I will give you 5 minutes.  Got It? 5 minutes, so you better have a good reason for calling me.”

            “I can’t get you out of my mind because you remind me so much of Sophia. I really need to see you again. I think you could help me get over her. Help me to not be bitter about what happened to her.”

            “Allen, you’re not making any sense. I can’t see you again. I cannot help you. You have a new doctor, and he will help you.”

            Dr. Bellows glances at her alarm clock. Its little digital lights are flashing green numbers at her. It’s telling her that it is 1:10A.M.!  She’s feeling the fear go through her body. Quietly, she starts to walk to each window and door of the house to make sure they are locked.

            “Allen, how are you calling me, I thought prison rules say that you can’t make phone calls after nine o’clock?”

Now she realizes that there was no operator asking her if she’d like to accept the call, when she picked up the phone. She’s a little more frantic now, making sure all the doors and windows are locked.

            “Well, Dr. Bellows, that’s a good question.”

            She hears him pause to take what sounded like a puff of a cigarette.

            “You see, I am not in prison anymore. I am at your back door.  So why don’t you show some manners and LET ME IN!!” His stern voice scares Dr. Bellows. Her heart is racing.

            She looses control and begins to scream. “Stay away from my house! Stay away from me!”

Dr. Bellows hangs up the phone and rushes down the stairs to the back door and sees that it’s wide open. She’s panicking now. She feels the sweat pouring down her face. Opening a kitchen drawer, Dr. Bellows grabs a large steak knife and begins to walk through the house. All of the sudden, the phone rings. She grabs it and glances at the caller ID. The name Angela Bellows shows up.

                                   

            “ Hello?”

            “I hope you don’t mind me using your cell phone? The one I had just died.” His voice sounded close, too close. She figured if she could reason with him, she might get out of this situation.

            “Okay Allen, you have my attention, where are you and what is it you want?”

            “You and me, we are going down to One Eyed Fish,” he commands.

            “The bar?” Dr. Bellows asks.

            “Yes.”

Just then Allen appears behind Dr. Bellows, puts his hands around her, knocks the knife from her hand and grabs the phone.

            “Now, let’s go up stairs and put something nice and appealing on.” He gives her a little pat on the butt.

            Dr. Bellows tries to convince him and pleads, “We don’t have to leave; we can stay here and talk.”

            Allen shouts, “Like I said, go upstairs and change!”

He shoves her in front of him and as she walks up the stairs to her bedroom, he follows close behind and caresses her butt. Dr. Bellows almost resists but then tries to remain calm and tries to hold back the tears that began falling down her cheeks.

                                        Chapter 4

 

Dr. Bellows frantically searches for something to wear! She tries to gain some kind of control over her emotions, while she continues to search for a dress. Finally, she spots something. Dr. Bellows finishes dressing; she puts her navy blue cocktail dress on. She used to wear it when she and Steve would go for fish fries on Friday nights. She comes out of the bedroom and Allen just stares at her. He licks his lips and nods his head with approval. They both go outside and get into her car. Allen demands that she drive, but she doesn’t want to because she is shaking so badly and is afraid she may crash. She tries to think of how she will make her escape at the bar. Meanwhile, Allen can’t stop staring at Dr. Bellows. While she drives, he slowly starts rubbing her leg and thigh, and Dr. Bellows tries to keep her dress from rising any higher. The trip to the bar was in silence. Dr. Bellows was trying not to cry but just couldn’t stop.

Finally they pull up to the bar. Allen gets out and goes around to the other side of the car to grab Dr. Bellows. She stumbles to the ground with fear when he grabs her out by her shoulder. They walk up to the bar. As they are walking, Dr. Bellows makes one last attempt.

            “What are you going to do to me?”

            Allen looks at her and gives her the same grin he did that morning at the prison.     “Nothing, I just want to talk. I want us to have a good time. I think it would be good for us.”

            They enter the bar, which unfortunately, is completely empty except for the bartender.

            Allen pulls out a stool and motions for her to sit.

            He whispers in her ear, “Now, if you so much as wink or anything to try and give a signal or whatever, I will kill you! So, sit down, be cool, and this will all be over soon.”

Then he regains his composure and proudly says, “Now, what do you drink, my lady?”

Dr. Bellows ordered Jack Daniels on the rocks. She drank about one and a half glasses, and tried speaking to Allen several times but he just ignored her. She was a little buzzed now and was starting to relax a bit. She was figuring this guy just wanted to have some drinks, probably sex and then he’d let her go back to her life. She could deal with that.  She was strong enough to be put through that.  Dr. Bellows only hoped it would be as short and painless as possible.  She then felt an urge to use the bathroom.

            “I need to use the bathroom.”

            “I will go with you,” said Allen. It’s the first time he looked at her since he ordered drinks. All the while he was kind of staring into space.

            Dr. Bellows touched his shoulder reassuringly, “No, I’ll be okay, just wait here, I promise I’ll be right back.”

            Allen chuckled a little. “Yeah, that’s what Sophia said, and she never came back. No, I am coming with you.”

Dr. Bellows gets up and sees Allen get up behind her and follow her. She enters the bathroom with him right behind her. She figures this is it, she will be raped here. She goes into the stall and sees that Allen is still right behind her. He starts kissing her and putting his hands all over her, in places she hadn’t been touched in years. All of the sudden, she sees Allen’s face with this blank expression.

            “Allen? Allen? What is it?”

            He looks at her with this confused expression. “Where’s Sophia?”

            “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about?” In Dr. Bellows mind, she is trying to think back to her training and remembers a disorder that causes disorientation. She searches her memory but can’t think straight. Allen is getting more frantic.

“What did you do to her?”

Dr. Bellows sees him; he’s looking at the bathroom stall next to the one they are in. He slowly begins to walk over to it. She tries quietly walking to the door. Allen opens the bathroom stall and begins to breathe very fast! He screams at her.

            “How could you do this? Why? Why?”

            “Allen, there’s nothing there, what are you talking about?”

            He begins to walk to her, shaking his head in disbelief. “How could you kill her? I loved her. Why?”

Dr. Bellows figures this is her chance and makes a run for it out the bathroom door. Right as she runs out and is about to yell for help, Allen rushes her from behind and drags her back to the bathroom and throws her to the floor. He knocks her over the head with the toilet seat back, and continues to beat her for a moment. Then Allen runs out the bathroom door. Dr. Bellows tries to see where he went but she’s blinded by the blood dripping down into her eyes.

Allen goes behind the bar and grabs a cork screw. The bartender asks him what he was doing, but Allen ignores him and runs back to the bathroom. The bartender goes to the phone and decides to call 911… Allen runs back to her, raises the cork screw, and stabs her repeatedly in the neck! Then he moves on to her chest and head!

            Just then the police pull up. They charge through the bar doors and head straight to the bathroom. They shout for Allen to drop the cork screw, which he does. They slowly walk to him, take him down to the floor and put him in hand cuffs. They call in for an ambulance. The ambulance comes and tries to revive Dr. Bellows, but it is too late. She lost far too much blood.

            The cops put Allen in the car. They begin driving away. One of them decides to ask Allen what happened.

            “Well, there was this girl Sophia. I was very in love with her. Her and I go to this bar, and…”

            Allen begins the story he has told many times, and decides this would be a good time to begin a new game.

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