If you want to know more about the abaguchie you have to come back. You have to hear it with your own ears.
COME HOME NOW!!!¡
Wally (and Jake, Josh, and Peter)
P.S. We mean it, guys¡
Eighteen
Paw Prints
It was Eddie's idea, actually. It had rained Saturday morning—a cold November rain—gray sky over gray trees over a gray landscape—the kind of day that made Eddie wish for baseball summers, Beth to wish for warm July days of hammock reading, and Caroline to fantasize herself under bright lights in a packed auditorium, with her name, of course, on the marquee.
“What we need,” Eddie said, lying on the floor, tossing a baseball up in the air and catching it while flat on her back, “is something that would make a great paw print. We could go over to the Hatfords’ after dark and make paw prints in the wet ground, right up that dirt path to their back door.”
It was a better idea than Caroline had ever thought of herself, and Beth—who lived half her life inside her head along with vampires and headless horsemen—at once put her mind to the kind of paw prints an abaguchie might make.
They went outside to experiment in the damp earth of Mother's empty flower bed, and discovered that by pressing the palm of their hands down in the dirt, then using the thumb to make prints for the toes, they had a good imitation of an animal's paw print—something resembling the print of a large cat.
After that they worked to make it look real, placing the paw prints almost in front of each other, the way a large cat might go slinking about.
Evening could not come quickly enough. There had been a lot more talk of the abaguchie since the small tuft of Caroline's fur trim had been found along the door frame at Oldakers'. Not a day went by at school that someone didn't mention it, and Caroline and her sisters could not think of a better way to keep the story alive than to place some odd paw prints where the Hatford boys would find them.
Why the Hatfords? Who else was as much fun to tease, trick, fool, annoy, harass, and just plain drive to distraction? And things could not have gone more perfectly when Mother announced that there was chili on the stove for dinner, bagels for toasting with cheese, a salad in the fridge, and everyone could eat when ready. She was working on new curtains for the sun-room, and did not want to stop and put a formal meal on the table.
The girls ate early and then, when it was almost, but not quite, dark, set out in dark jeans, socks, sweaters, and gloves. When they got across the bridge, the Hatford house was ablaze with lights. Every room, thought Caroline, was like a stage, and you could walk around the entire house and decide what stage you wanted to watch.
“The main thing,” Eddie whispered, “is to be sure all the Hatfords are inside. We don't want any surprises—no one walking up behind us.”
Everybody was inside. Jake was watching TV. Mrs. Hatford and Wally were making dinner, and Josh was standing in the kitchen doorway. Mr. Hatford was reading to Peter on the couch.
In case any of the Hatfords were coming out later, the girls decided to start at the steps and work backward—across the lawn, through the empty flower bed, over to the bare earth around the driveway, and out the gate behind the shed. Wherever they could plant a paw print, they would. Beth and Eddie made the prints, and Caroline led the way, keeping an eye on the house.
It would have been better, of course, if they'd had a flashlight to admire their work as they went along, but they had practiced enough in Mother's flower bed at home to know in what direction the toes should be pointing, and about how far apart the prints should be.
“Wait!” Caroline cautioned at one point when Mr. Hatford came to the window and looked out over the darkened landscape, hands in his pockets. The girls crouched, ready to run if the door opened, but after a while he ambled off again, and when Caroline next checked, he was eating dinner.
They completed the garden plot and started in on the bare spots along the driveway.
“We shouldn't make a steady line of prints,” Beth said. “A big cat would probably step off into the grass now and then.”
Silently the girls worked on, moving in the direction where Caroline was standing. If only it didn't rain again before morning, destroying their handiwork. One of the Hatfords should notice those prints on Sunday when they all came out for church.
They had finished the bare dirt along the driveway and were moving off toward the trees when Caroline heard a twig snap somewhere behind the toolshed.
She wheeled quickly around and listened. Nothing.
“Did you hear something?” whispered Beth.
“Wait….” said Eddie.
The girls froze, not daring to make a sound.
This time there was a crackle of underbrush, like a swift movement back in the weeds near the trees. Caroline turned some more and saw two yellow eyes about three feet from the ground, staring right at her.
The scream came in spite of herself.
“Caroline!” said Eddie just as Beth rose up from a crouch. A low growl came from the direction of the eyes.
And suddenly Caroline was running pell-mell toward the house. Unmindful of the consequences, she tumbled onto the steps. She realized too late that Beth and Eddie were still out on the driveway.
“Caroline!” she heard Eddie whisper just as the porch light came on and Mr. Hatford stepped out, followed by Wally, then Jake and Josh.
“What's happening?” asked the boys’ father.
“There's … something out there!” gasped Caroline. “We saw two eyes¡ Two yellow eyes about this far off the ground!” She put out one hand.
Beth came over. “It growled,” she added.
“Out where?” asked Mr. Hatford, coming down the steps.
Mrs. Hatford appeared with a flashlight, followed by Peter. The boys stared at the girls.
“What were you doing out here?” asked Wally.
Now Eddie came over. “We were just cutting through your yard—”
“Look here!” yelled Wally, taking the flashlight and coming down the steps. “Hey, Dad, look at these prints!”
“M'gosh!” cried Jake. “They're huge!”
The boys stared at the girls some more. And then Wally must have noticed their muddy hands, and the mud on Beth's and Eddie's knees, because he yelled, “It's all a trick¡ They've been over here making paw prints in the dirt, and they screamed to make us think something's out there.”
“Something was!” cried Caroline, not even caring now. “Yes, we did make the paw prints, just as a joke, but when we got back in the weeds, we did see something. We did hear a growl!”
“Sure, and it snows in July,” said Wally.
“It's true!” said Beth.
Mr. Hatford smiled a little. “Well, girls, do you want the boys to walk you home?”
“No,” said Eddie. “We were just leaving.”
“Hey, nice paw prints!” Jake chortled.
“Good try,” said Josh.
Caroline and her sisters headed for the swinging bridge.
“I was never so humiliated in my life!” said Eddie. “Caroline, why did you scream? After all our work, you ruined it.”
“But I saw eyes, Eddie¡ You saw them, too, Beth. You know you did.”
“And I heard the growl,” Beth insisted.
“We'll never live this down,” Eddie told them. “Our big chance, and we blew it.”
Nineteen
Two Yellow Eyes
The boys hooted as the girls headed down the driveway toward the road and the swinging bridge on the other side.
“They actually thought we'd fall for that!” said Wally. “They must think we're really dumb.”
The four boys followed the paw prints around the yard, laughing at all the work the girls had done to make them think the abaguchie had been there.
“The thing is’ Wally said when they went back inside again, “Beth was really scared. Caroline too. I don't think they were faking it.”
“Even Eddie looked worri
ed,” Jake agreed. “Maybe they did see something.”
“Could have been a dog or a fox or a deer or something. Two yellow eyes could be almost anything,” Josh told them.
After dinner, however, while Jake and Josh were playing a video game, and Peter was taking his bath, Wally put on his jacket and went out in the backyard with the flashlight. For a long time he stood at the bottom of the steps and just watched and listened. If there was any creature back in the trees behind the shed, he decided, and if he waited long enough, he would hear something. See something. No animal could be one hundred percent quiet, could it? When he heard something, he'd turn on the flashlight, see what it was.
Caroline was a good actress, but she wasn't that good. Wally thought he knew fear when he saw it. It was possible that the girls had made the prints and then put on a show of acting scared to make the Hatfords think something was really back there, but no: they would have brushed off their hands and knees.
Standing absolutely still out in the November cold made his legs seem to lock into position, like those of a horse asleep on its feet. Wally wondered what it was like to be a sentry or guard on duty who would be shot if he went to sleep at his post. He had been standing there only ten minutes, perhaps. What if he were on watch for ten hours? What if the safety of the whole camp depended on whether he saw the faintest light, heard the slightest sound …
His knees felt frozen. He needed to move, and he began to get a little braver. He had been out this long and heard nothing. Why didn't he go back as far as the trees behind the toolshed, where Caroline said they had seen the eyes, and just stand quietly there for fifteen minutes? Then if he still saw or heard nothing, he would figure the girls hadn't seen anything either.
Softly, he moved across the damp grass and stood leaning against the back of the toolshed, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched against the chill. There were goose bumps all up and down his legs where the wind whipped his trousers against him.
For a moment he thought he heard something, a whine, perhaps. Then he realized it was the whistle of the wind.
How long had he been standing here now? Five minutes? Ten? He began counting to sixty to keep track of the minutes, but after a while forgot which minute he was counting off—seven or eight. After that he felt he was too numb to think; even his brain was freezing.
Something snapped back in the trees, like a twig breaking underfoot.
Wally stiffened, his eyes searching out the darkness. A small forest creature scurrying home?
Snap. Again the sound, like a footstep. Then a rustle, as though something was rooting about, pawing the ground. Sniffing.
Wally knew if he ran for the house to get Jake and Josh he would frighten away the visitor. If he did not run for the house, he might have a heart attack on the spot. Wally did not run, not because he was brave but because he felt his feet and legs were icicles.
The air was quiet. Wally heard only the thump of his heart, the thrubbing of blood in his temples. And then, not ten yards away, two yellow eyes stared out at Wally from the trees—two yellow eyes, close together, about three feet from the ground. They moved to the left as though the creature were circling, but then they stopped and moved to the right.
Wally inched backward toward the door of the shed, heart racing, mouth dry, fingers clutching the flashlight.
Turn on the flashlight¡ his brain told him, and see what it is. Now's your chance¡ Turn on the light¡
No, run¡ his feet argued. Forget the light and run, stupid¡
He would get to the door of the shed and then turn on the light, he decided. If necessary he could jump inside and close the door after him.
The yellow eyes seemed to come closer still.
In terror Wally reached the corner of the shed and lifted the flashlight, but his hands were so cold, he dropped it. And in that split second the yellow eyes disappeared.
Frantically, Wally picked up the light and shone it in the direction of the eyes, but there was nothing. He took a few steps forward, disappointment overcoming fear, and even rattled the branches of a nearby bush, hoping to flush the creature out if it was still lurking about, but he didn't see anything at all.
The grove of trees behind the shed seemed empty now. As sure as Wally had felt before that a presence was there, a creature unseen, he now knew that it was gone. He turned and kicked the shed hard, only injuring his toe, and limped back to the house, wiping his nose with one hand. Stupid, stupid, stupid¡
Coming into the kitchen, he found his brothers making popcorn in the microwave.
“Where have you been?” asked Josh.
Wally slumped down on a chair, still shaking in his jacket. “I saw them,” he said, lips barely moving.
“The girls are back?” asked Jake.
Wally shook his head. “The eyes. The yellow eyes.”
“What?”
“But when I turned on the flashlight, they were gone.”
“Maybe you only imagined it,” Josh said.
“No¡ I saw two yellow eyes. They were three feet off the ground, just like Caroline said. And I heard something moving around, sort of sniffing and snorting in the underbrush. I know something was out there. The girls did see it, only I don't know what it was.”
Jake and Josh sat down slowly in the chairs around the table, and only Peter remembered the popcorn and got it out of the microwave in time.
“If it's there’ Josh said after a minute, “we're going to catch it.”
Twenty
A Little Talk
with Wally
It was miserable having Eddie mad at her. It wasn't so bad when Beth was angry, because all you had to do to make up to Beth was hand her a new book, and within minutes she was lost in another time and place and had forgotten what the argument was about.
Eddie, however, did not like being made to look like a fool. She did not appreciate appearing foolish in front of girlfriends, but especially did not like to look stupid in front of boys, the Hatford boys in particular. And when Eddie was upset, she simply stayed after school to shoot baskets in the all-purpose room, or came home to bounce a ball off the side of the garage, and whatever Caroline suggested, she'd say simply “That's dumb.”
If Caroline was again to have the support of her oldest sister, she was going to have to do something rather dramatic, she decided. Something that worked. Something braver than even Eddie would have thought of to do, but Caroline hadn't a clue as to what that might be.
At school on Monday, however, she got a break because, for the first time since she had moved to Buckman, Wally Hatford turned around in his chair, all on his own, and talked to her. Politely.
“What exactly did you see at the back of our yard the other night?” he asked.
Caroline didn't answer right away because she wasn't sure what he was going to do with her answer.
“We were only kidding around,” she said. “It was just something to do.”
“I know, but you really did see something, didn't you?”
“I'm not sure,” Caroline told him. Were they having a real conversation? Was it possible that a Hatford boy and a Malloy girl could actually behave like normal people when they wanted to?
“Did you hear anything, then?”
“Yes. Twigs snapping, I think. Like someone— something—was walking on them. And maybe a … well, sort of snuffing sound.”
“That's what / heard!” Wally said.
“When?”
Now Wally looked uncomfortable, as though he couldn't trust her with the answer. But he must have decided to take a chance, because he said at last, “After you went home that night, I stood out by the back of the shed and watched.”
Caroline felt her eyes growing larger. “What did you see?”
“I'm not sure either,” said Wally. “Did you really see two yellow eyes?”
“Well …” Caroline thought hard. “I saw something. It certainly looked like two yellow eyes, and I heard something.”
“Me too,”
said Wally. “What did it sound like?”
“Well …” And again Caroline thought. How much was real and how much might she have only imagined? “I heard growling. Maybe just one growl. It could have been the wind, I guess.”
“But you don't think so?”
“I don't know what to think,” Caroline told him, as honest as she'd ever been in her life. “But Beth said she heard growling too.”
“Well, / think you really did see and hear something. I did too. And if something was back there, Jake and Josh and I are going to capture it.”
Now Caroline's eyes were really wide. Was this a trick? She didn't think so. Still, with all the things the Hatford boys had pulled in the past …
“How?” she asked.
“We're going to build a. cage and put bait in it,” Wally said. “Josh made a drawing, and we're going to build it tonight. If we catch anything, I'll let you know.”
She couldn't believe her ears. “Thanks,” she said.
After school that day Caroline was disturbed that Eddie still would rather play basketball in the all-purpose room than walk home with her and Beth. Caroline hated the thought that Eddie might think she was getting too old for them—might go off and spend all her time with someone else.
She glanced over at Beth, but Beth, as usual, had her nose stuck in a book. What would happen to the Malloy sisters if Eddie didn't hang around with her and Beth anymore? All Caroline's plans for a movie-production company called Malloy Enterprises would just float right out the window.
If only she could do something splendid and brave, like capturing the abaguchie barehanded, to make Eddie proud of her again. Proud to say that Caroline was her sister. If she couldn't do that, she would settle for sighting the abaguchie. But even that was farfetched.
Then she had another idea. What about making the Hatford boys believe the abaguchie had come to their trap and taken their bait? And after the boys spread the story around school, she'd tell them what really happened. Maybe even keep the bait as evidence.