Spindle Lane. Mark Reefe

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      Something was up; he was way too happy to see me.

      At seventeen and fifteen, Perry and Paul were the youngest of the Perret family. With five girls and three boys, it was pretty much guaranteed something was always going on in the house. But tonight it was strangely quiet.

      “Where is everybody?”

      “Parents are at a dinner party, same one as yours. My sisters are all on dates, except for Mary Ann. She’s upstairs sick. Rummy’s working.”

      I plopped the crate down next to the door and asked the obvious question. “And Paul?”

      Perry motioned for me to follow him into the back family room. The smile remained fixed on his face as he pointed to Paul’s tuba case in the corner of the room.

      “So!” Perry shouted. “Learned your lesson yet?”

      A muffled “Yes” came from inside the case.

      “And what are you never going to do again under penalty of a severe butt kicking?”

      The same defeated voice spoke. “I’m never going to borrow your bathing suit or any other clothes without asking.”

      Perry looked at me. The smile grew wider. “Don’t forget it! Chris is here now, so I guess you would like to be let out, huh?”

      Sarcasm oozed through the cracks in the case. “Yeeees.”

      Perry thumped the side of it with his foot. “Yes, what?”

      Paul responded several seconds later. “Yes…please.”

      “There, now see? All you have to do is be polite and show a little respect. That’s all I ask for, not much.”

      Perry flipped open the clasps to the case with his foot.

      When the final one was unhinged, the lid flew wide. Flush-faced and wild-eyed, Paul looked at his brother and shouted, “I couldn’t breathe in there, you jerk! I could have died!”

      “You look fine to me. Besides, serves you right. You should know better than to take my stuff. You’re lucky I didn’t kick your ass in front of Chris.”

      “Yeah, I feel real lucky. Now why don’t you split? Go find someone else to bother.”

      “Fine. But remember Mom and Dad left me in charge. That means don’t do anything stupid. Also, I’m coming down to watch Saturday Night Live later, so the TV is mine for that. You have until eleven-thirty to watch whatever you want.”

      Combat was the first in our lineup of Atari games, followed by Indy 500 and then Star Ship. Somewhere between racing and shooting down spaceships, Perry showed up with a large bowl of popcorn. Saying nothing, he dropped it between us as an apparent peace offering and worked his way into the fun. After three and a half hours of nonstop gaming, Perry exclaimed, “Okay, ladies, time for SNL! He flipped the television dial to Channel 4 just in time to catch the end of the evening news.

      “… and so there you have it. David Berkowitz, the infamous Son of Sam killer, will be sentenced in less than a week. In local news a gruesome discovery was made earlier today on the White Marsh Nature Trail in Bowie, Maryland. The mutilated bodies of two dogs were found by Boy Scout Troop 1046. The scouts that stumbled upon the animals described them as ripped to shreds and decapitated. The savagery of the attack has authorities perplexed as the wounds are consistent with those caused by a large predator such as a bear. However, no bears have been sighted in Prince George’s County in years. Furthermore, such violent behavior is not typically associated with the black bear, which is the only species of bear indigenous to the state. Authorities are urging anyone with information regarding this attack to call the number on the screen.”

      I glanced over at Paul. His slack-jawed stare was a suitable reward for the teasing I’d endured on the way to the pool.

      Swimming in self-satisfaction, I nodded and mouthed the words, Told you.

      “Goatman.”

      Paul and I turned to Perry. He was staring at the screen with a blank expression. “Definitely the Goatman.”

      “What’s a Goatman?” I asked.

      Perry’s eyebrows rose and his head dipped slightly as it swiveled to me and then Paul. “You guys are joshing me, right? You’re telling me you’ve never heard of the Goatman? Either of you?”

      Embarrassed, I backtracked. “Well, sure I’ve heard of him but not a whole lot. Just rumors really. What do you know about him?”

      “Uh-huh.” Perry didn’t sound convinced. “Anyway, this is clearly the work of the Goatman. He’s been killing dogs for years now. I remember hearing stories about him when I was younger than you dorks—and it’s not just animals he’s after. A couple of years ago, they found two bodies out by Allen’s Pond, a girl and guy. They were all chopped up into tiny bits by some maniac with an ax. They never solved the case, but everyone says it was the Goatman that got them.”

      Something about what Perry said wasn’t adding up. Although I was all for a good boogeyman story, it needed to be well-constructed for me to invest in it. “Wait a minute. If this is the same guy, then –”

      “Goatman,” Perry interrupted.

      “Right. If this is the Goatman in both cases, why would he be ripping up dogs one day and chopping up kids with an ax on another? It seems weird. If he had the strength to kill two dogs with his bare hands, why would he bother with an ax?”

      Perry glared at me like I had a hole bored straight through my head. “Dude, he’s a Goatman. That’s weird. The fact that he kills dogs and people with his hands or an ax isn’t that strange.”

      “So,” Paul chimed in, “where did he come from?”

      “No one knows for sure,” Perry said. “But rumor has it he was a scientist working on some secret genetics testing, and something went wrong.”

      Yet another sign of poor craftsmanship. I couldn’t help myself. “Hmm.”

      Perry scowled at me. “Hmm, what?”

      “Well, what kind of genetics testing would you use a goat for? If they were looking to make some kind of human animal weapon, why not use a gorilla or a tiger, or something like that?”

      “Or maybe a snake or lizard.” Paul added.

      “Exactly,” I said. “All of those are cool. A goat is just…goofy.”

      “What, are you two scientists all of a sudden? I’m just telling you what I heard. Besides, it doesn’t matter. He’s out there, and he’s been hunting down people and dogs for a long, long time. Ax or no ax, the Goatman is real, and he’s on the hunt.”

      His words brought with them the memory of my narrow escape on the bike trail and the warnings uttered by the hidden things. He’s watching you. My silence must have encouraged Perry.

      “Come to think of it, you two chumps would make for a pretty good Goatman snack. If I were you guys, I’d stick close to home this summer, probably not СКАЧАТЬ