He searched the rest of the house, but came up empty. Going back to the kitchen, he looked under the kitchen sink. Here was some hooch — drain cleaner, liquid soap, furniture polish, and suchlike. He popped the lid off a bottle of Lysol and guzzled it down.
Mmm, pine-flavored. But he needed FOOD.
All right, he was desperate. If quality wasn’t available, quantity would have to do. He stumped back down to the cellar, rummaged, and fetched up a huge plastic tub. This he filled with everything at hand. In went Jell-O Pudding, corn oil, Nestle’s Quik, Spic ‘n’ Span, Hungry Jack pancake and waffle mix, California seedless raisins, cornstarch, sugar, flour, Rice Krispies, Quaker Puffed Wheat, Corn Chex, ammonia, vinegar, salad dressing, Crisco, bread crumbs, Log Cabin syrup, Karo syrup, molasses, baking powder, milk, Pepsi-Cola, Kool-Aid, mustard, ketchup, floor wax, a half gallon of milk, lemonade, orange juice….
And on and on and on, everything going into one ghastly, heterogeneous concoction. For savor he threw in everything in the spice cabinet, from turmeric to fennel, from paprika to cream of tartar, along with two canisters of salt and a big box of ground pepper.
He thought of cooking down this horror, but who was he kidding? He couldn’t wait. He dipped the gnawed ham bone into the stuff and sampled it.
Not bad. He searched for an eating implement, found a big soup ladle.
He ate it all.
Snowclaw was exceedingly ill. He had wanted to get up on the roof and scout the countryside, get his bearings, but he had not made it farther than this small bed, on which he had fallen asleep. Now he was awake, and it was night again, and he was sick. Very sick.
He wanted to die right then and there. He was going to die, he was sure of it.
Voices. Humans. Snowy thought of getting up and running, but maybe if the humans saw him they would kill him and put him out of his misery.
A female screamed, then moaned.
“Oh, look. Look at all this. Fred, someone broke in. Look at my kitchen.”
“Cheezus. Honey, call the cops.”
“Oh, my God, what the hell were they doing?”
“Some kinda goddamn weirdo.”
“Mommy, who did this?”
“Shh! Jennifer, go back to the car.”
“Why, Daddy?”
Snowclaw really wished they would make less noise. He groaned and turned over. Maybe if he got a little more sleep …
“Fred, do you think they could still be here?”
“I’ll check upstairs. Where the hell’s my shotgun? Shit. It’s upstairs. The pellet gun, it’s down in the cellar.”
“Jennifer, don’t touch that!”
“What is it. Mommy?”
“I don’t know. It’s disgusting.”
“It’s yucky.”
“Jennifer, don’t.”
“Can I play with it?”
“No, it’s horrible. Leave it alone.I said leave it alone! Do you want to get smacked? Why do I have to —? What did you say, Fred?”
Great White Stuff, Snowclaw thought. What does a guy have to do to get a little sleep? Why did humans have to make so much noise all the time? He rolled over onto his stomach, his lower legs sticking out a yard over the end of the bed.
“How should I know where Brandon’s pellet gun is? I haven’t seen it in years. Fred, forget it. They’re long gone. It must’ve been kids. Jennifer! Go to your room right now.”
And how the heck could they sleep in these damned beds? They made his back hurt.
He really should be getting the heck out. These humans weren’t going to be pleased to find him.
“Of course they must have been kids. Nothing’s missing! The TV, the VCR, the stereo … everything’s here! Fred?Fred? Forget the damn pellet gun, will you?”
“Well, it’s just the thought of somebody breakin’ in here. Did you call the police?”
“Not yet.”
“What? Cheezus, do I have to do everything myself?”
Snowclaw was getting tired of listening to the commotion downstairs. He wasn’tthat sick, and he really should be getting along.
Snowy turned over. A small human female was standing at the foot of the bed, regarding him with baleful blue eyes.
“Hi,” he said. “Don’t tell your folks I’m here, okay? They wouldn’t understand. Sorry for messing up your bed, but … Where’re you going?”
The little girl went to the head of the stairs.
“Mommy!”
There was no answer. Snowy sat up, and regretted it.
“Mommy!”
“Jennifer, what in blazes do you want? Can’t you see Mommy’s busy?”
“There’s a big bear in my bed.”
“Jennifer, don’t start with me.”
“There is. There’s a big white bear and he’s got big teeth and white claws. He talked to me.”
“Fred, go up and see what the hell that kid is talking about.”
“She’s got a big bear in her bed, that’s what she’s talking about. How come these goddamn cops don’t answer their goddamn phone? They’ll pull you over for goin’ two miles above the limit, but when it comes to —”
“Mommy!”
“Jennifer, I am going to strangle you in a minute. Fred, do something? She’s driving me nuts. Look at this mess I have to clean up. Look at all this crap all over!”
Snowy put his head down and dozed off for what he thought was just a second or two. When he snapped awake and sat up again, the big male human was staring at him goggle-eyed from the doorway.
Snowy burped, then said, “I can explain….”
The man disappeared. Snowy got up unsteadily and made for the window. It wouldn’t budge, so he broke through it and went out onto the icy roof of the kitchen wing, doing a high-wire act along the apex. When he was halfway across, he looked back. The guy was aiming a gun at him.
Snowy’s foot slipped a split second before the shotgun let loose with a bang and a flash.
The next thing Snowy knew, he was on the ground, entangled in a copse of rhododendrons. Thrashing frantically, he extricated himself and struggled to his feet. He took off across the lawn.
Another blast shattered the night, and a bee-swarm of shot buzzed past Snowy’s head.
Then, suddenly, there was something in front of him, a strange aircraft. It made no sound, hovering about ten feet off the ground. A hatch opened up at the side of the thing.
Someone poked his head out. “Snowy, come on!”
It was Gene! Without breaking stride, Snowclaw took one mighty leap and hooked an arm inside the hatch. With Gene’s unnecessary help, he scrambled up the bell-shaped hull and dove in.
It was a tight squeeze inside the compartment. Linda was there, along with the new kid, Jeremy.
“Okay, we got him!”
“Roger,” Jeremy said, confident at the controls. The laptop computer was taped to the instrument panel in front of him. He punched a few keys.
“Uh, fellas?” Linda said. “There’s a guy with a gun out there.”
Jeremy said, “Hold on a minute. I’m going to jump directly back to the castle.”
“But he’s going to —”
The shotgun roared again, and buckshot spanged off the Voyager ’s hull, to no perceivable effect.
Snowclaw said, “How did you find me?”
“Magic,” Gene said.
Snowy sighed. “What else.” Then a sudden gust of nausea rose in him. “Gene buddy?”
“What?”
“Could you move over a little?”
“There’s no room. Why, what’s wrong?”
“I’m going to be sick.”
Forty-one
Sheila’s World
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…. But that is another story.