 With one last glance at the clock and a chesty sigh he picked himself up out of bed and walked down the dark hallway. As quietly as a cat he pushed open the door at the top of the staircase and peered in. Sarah lay sound asleep on the queen-sized bed, her smooth skin shining porcelin in the delicate moonlight that poured in from the window. Her belly was bigger now than ever and she was due any day. Allen hadn't the slightest idea how she could sleep in this, but he was glad for it all the same. She was the sweetest, most beautiful woman he had ever met and the only one who really understood him, and for this he was hopelessly in love with her. Tip-toeing to the bed, he ran a gentle finger through her hair which appeared silver in the moonlight, and bent over to place a kiss on her cheek. A slight smile crept over her lips, but she did not wake. Returning to the door he stopped and turned back to her with a smile. He felt that warm swirling in his chest and realized for the first time in his life he was truly happy. He was going to be a father. Making his way down the stairs with minimal creaking he entered the kitchen and poured himself a tall glass of water. Checking the thermometer above the sink it read 90 degrees Fahrenheit. Ninety at almost one in the morning? "Crazy" he said aloud and downed the cool water. Refilling the glass he thought of his young wife just upstairs. He grabbed another glass and filled it. If she was to wake up thirsty he wanted it to be there for her. Making his way back up the stairs, he took extra effort not to creak the steps too much, as they had been known to wake Sarah before. Stepping into the dark room he made his way to the nightstand and set the glass down within arm's reach. She still seemed to be smiling in her sleep and this made Allen smile himself. Stepping back into the hall, he left the door open just a crack and made his way back to the guest room he had taken in these last couple months of Sarah's pregnancy. Dropping onto the bed he realized all at once, he would not be getting any sleep tonight, no matter how desperately he tried. With a sigh nearly twice as heavy as before, he picked himself up and stood for a moment over the bed. This humidity was just as oppressive downstairs and the fans simply taunted the thick air around him. Downing the remainder of water in the glass, he stood before the open window, knowing perfectly well there was no breeze. But the night air outside was a bit cooler. "Well, why not?" He thought aloud and unhooked the latch on the screen. He pushed the screen up on the track just enough for him to fit through. Grabbing a pillow and the sweat-saturated blanket from the bed, he stepped through the window and onto the gently sloping rooftop. Closing the screen behind him, he sprawled out the blanket and dropped the pillow at it's head. Looking down the two stories he saw the old gazebo under that great oak, illuminated eerily in the pale moonlight. The lawn was in need a good mowing again. With all the rain they'd had this spring, it seemed the damned lawn needed mowing ever other day. As he lay down, he decided he might as well do that tomorrow too. Laying there under the bright full moon, he remembered someone had once told him, many years ago, (perhaps it was his great uncle Pete who just loved to fill his young mind with little slivers of bullshit wisdom) that any man who sleeps out under the full moon would go hopelessly insane. Allen had always had a subconscious fear of the moon thanks to good ol' Uncle Pete, and of going "hopelessly insane" which his childhood mind had pictured as him in a padded cell bouncing up and down and laughing uncontrollably. Now he just stared up at the white ball in the black sky and thought about all that lawn down below that would swallow up most of his day, when finally and mercifully he felt this eye lids grow heavy. The air out here was indeed cooler and began to dry the sweat on his skin. A gentle breeze had actually picked up and he could feel himself begin slipping into that sweet darkness. Suddenly his heart stopped and he could feel terror flow over his body like an icy river. He could hear the beating of wings. Impossibly large, leathery wings, somewhere dreadfully close to where he lay. A shadow passed over him and for a few terrible seconds the moon was blotted out. The sound of the beating wings stopped and Allen found himself unable to move, caught in a kind of sleep-paralysis. Was he still asleep? Was this a dream? His brain raced with lightning clarity. He could see something out of the corner of his eye, just what it could be he dare not guess. A monstrous dark shape, larger than any bird he knew of, larger than a man even, sat on the rooftop only a few feet away. He realized the moon had disappeared entirely. The rooftop appeared shrouded in darkness, yet this thing, whatever it was, was somehow blacker than the night. It began to emit a soft and sickening hiss. Allen suddenly broke out of his trance and jumped backward. He groped blindly in the deep dark for the window, but could only find brick wall. The hiss picked up in pitch until it seemed to penetrate into Allen's very bones, sending shock waves up his spine. He forced himself to face whatever it was, his back against the wall. He saw the thing's eyes, glowing a pale, misty green, something that instanlty made him think of witches and deep fairy tale forests. Were those wings? Wings folded against it's back? A gauntly, night apparition perched over him. "Cold autumn nights I will wait." The thing spoke in a ghoulish voice. That voice was like a graveyard on a winter morning. He felt his heart sink. 'Christ God it's talking!' his brain screamed. "Outside your daughter's window, I will wait." "No! Please no!" Allen screamed and the warm tears began to stream down his cheeks. The thing began to hiss again and he pushed himself back against the brick as if it would give way. Finally, the hissing stopped and the dark monument of horror sat perched in silence. Allen felt himself grow weak as if he would faint, but he did not. In one nauseating burst of shadow, the thing took wing and again Allen could hear that leathery flapping and could feel that sickening cold wind. 'Crpyt wind' he though to himself. That was the cold wind that blew threw the cemetary at nightfall. His face was soaked with tears and he felt he would scream. And then it was gone. The only sound was that of his own labored breathing. The full moon shined down again, illuminating he scene in gentle silver. His head darted frantically but his eyes saw nothing out of the ordinary. As much as he hoped against all logical hope, this was no dream. It had been there not a moment before. And it had spoke! His mind fought desperately against letting those words sink in but he had heard them none the less and now they swirled inside his head. Finally, as if realizing some shocking prophecy, he leaped to his feet, found the window screen and didn't bother trying to open it. With his bare foot he kicked it in and squeezed himself through, gaining more than a few scratches in the process. He slammed the window shut and stood there for a moment, head pounding, a cold sweat now permeating his pores. Then he remembered his wife, sleeping just down the hall. He rushed to her room and found her sound asleep. The water in the glass had not been touched. Beginning to catch his breath now, he walked over to the bed. There she lay, looking as beautiful as ever. He ran his fingers through her hair. Her eye's opened and instantly met his. "Baby?" She asked in that soft, still sleeping voice. "Whats wrong?" Allen hesitated and seemed at a loss for words. Finally; "Nothing...It's nothing. Just checking on you. Go back to sleep." With a wide smile she closed her eyes. He continued to run his fingers through her hair as he glanced up at the window above her. The moon still shined in, full and bright, though now it was a little higher in the sky. He quickly drew the curtain, shrouding the bedroom in complete darkness. Somewhere not far, an owl called out in the night. |
