****
After Dark left, Dooley had spent several minutes trying to explain a few things to his befuddled Pop, without much success at all. He tried to explain that Dark wasn't just nasty, he was evil, and that only a short time ago in the forest he had only barely evaded Dark, and that just now he had turned Dark away by using things he had learned from the Tribe.
It was much more than he should have told him, given his oaths of silence to the Tribe, but he had to somehow convince his Pop how dangerous Dark was. Of course he couldn't tell Pop that Dark wasn't human, that to evade Dark earlier he had to become part of the forest, or that to protect himself the second time he had used Tribal words of Power that he hadn't even remembered that he knew. To disclose such details would be to tell Tribal secrets for sure.
Not that it would have helped much anyway. Pop didn't even remember most of what had just happened with Dark; Dark must have blanked it out of his mind somehow. Also, as smart as he was, Pop didn't believe in that sort of stuff. He was a man of science, not magic, he often said.
Someday he would believe though. It was Dooley's fondest dream that someday he would be able to show Pop what he had learned about the mysteries that his Pop tried to study, so that his Pop could be proud of him, but that day had not yet arrived.
Dooley also explained that he had to warn his friends on the Reservation about Dark. He had been told to never trust telephones with information of this sort, so he would have to go to the Reservation in person somehow.
His father shook his head and smiled. "Now Dooley, I don't know exactly what you saw or did in the Forest, but your Reservation friends are capable of taking care of themselves. Besides, this Mr. Dark is simply a new business acquaintance of mine, that's all. I don't know what's got you so worked up about him. Right now we should both just get some sleep."
Dooley shook his head in frustration. Pop had either forgotten much about their encounter with Dark, or was in a solid state of denial. If he could tell his Pop everything he knew, about the Tribe and magic, then maybe he would understand, but he couldn't tell him, he had promised the Tribe that he wouldn’t. He ran out of the shop and into the night, ignoring his father's orders to stop. Somehow he had to warn the Tribe.
His first impulse was to run straight for the Reservation by way of his forest paths, but on foot that would take all night or longer. Besides, what if Dark was waiting for him again in the forest? And isn't that what Dark had wanted in the first place, to drive Dooley to the Reservation?
He was walking past the library when Dooley realized that he should phone Chief George to warn him that there was some kind of trouble, even if he couldn't explain it all over the phone. Maybe someone from the Tribe could come and get him, and drive him to the Reservation. He fished some change out of his pocket, just in case he couldn't get the Chief to accept a collect call. There was a pay phone in front of the library that he could use, even though by now the library would be closed for the night.
Someone else was approaching the library in an old pickup truck though, probably to return a book using the book drop or to use the pay phone themselves. A woman parked and got out of the truck. She was alone. Dooley was stricken by an almost irresistible urge to jump out from behind the bushes and shout 'boo', but in recent years since he had grown to over six and a half feet tall that trick had usually gone very badly. Besides, always the gentleman, Dooley had already decided that he would let the lady do her business first. If he stayed hidden behind the bushes the woman would leave shortly and never even know that he was there; that would be best.
He was surprised when woman went straight to the library door instead of to the telephone or the book drop, and even more surprised when the door immediately opened to her touch. As she stood for a few moments at the doorway and quietly said the librarian's name, he realized that this woman was none other than a good friend of his, Miss Winters, who taught school on the Reservation. Odd time to be visiting her friend Janet at the Library, he thought, but still none of his business. He remained quietly hidden.
As he rounded the bushes to head for the phone he was startled by the presence of several bulky shapes hidden in the shadows that didn't belong there. There were five monstrous motorcycles hidden among the Rhododendrons, including Skunk's big fancy Harley.
He was even more startled when a dark shadow separated from one of the bikes, walked to the old truck that Miss Winter had emerged from, and moved around it slowly, stooping near each tire for several seconds.
It was one of Skunk's men, but fortunately he was too busy to notice Dooley. In the quiet of the night Dooley could hear bursting sounds and air rushing, and he suddenly realized that the tires of the truck were being destroyed by the man! The truck slowly listed and lowered by several inches. Dooley also finally recognized the truck; it was Chief Georges' old pickup, the very vehicle he had hoped would come and pick him up! When he was finished doing his dirty work, the gang member moved to the library door, and quietly disappeared inside.
Suddenly afraid for Miss Winters and Janet more than for the truck or himself, Dooley slinked quickly to the library door and peeked in just as all the lights came on inside. He heard the unmistakable voices of Skunk and several of his gang, laughing evilly.
He had to help, even though he, Janet and Miss Winters were far outmatched, that was certain. He needed to get more help, fast. The tribe was too far away. Then who? How?