He remembered that flock of hole creatures zooming off so purposefully toward the east. They hadn't come to Sutton Square. Maybe they'd continued further on. Where were they headed—Long Island?
Monroe, Long Island
"Mommy! Look at this bug!"
Sylvia heard Jeffy calling her from somewhere in the house. She tamped down the fresh soil around roots of one of her bankan bonsai—the one with the four-curved trunk—and followed the sound of his voice from the greenhouse to the kitchen, wiping the dirt from her hands as she moved. Bugs in the kitchen? She didn't like the sound of that. She became aware of an unsettling odor as she approached it.
She found a plate of cookies half-eaten on the butcher block kitchen table. Gladys, the cook and housekeeper, always left Jeffy a snack before she went home. Jeffy was standing at the back door, pointing up at the screen.
"See it, Mom? It looks like a giant booger!"
As much as Sylvia hated to admit it, Jeffy was right. What appeared to be a big glob of mucous with legs and buzzing wings was clinging to the outside of the screen.
She heard a growl. Old Phemus, their one-eyed mongrel, was crouched by the dishwasher, ears back, tail tucked under him, snarling at the thing on the screen.
"What's the matter, old boy?" she said, patting his head. "Never seen anything like that either, huh?"
As bizarre as the thing was, Sylvia was almost glad to see it. This was one of the few times since yesterday morning that Jeffy had shown any real interest in something besides that Mr. Veilleur. He'd talked about the man incessantly since his visit the other day. Jeffy seemed utterly infatuated with him, repeatedly asking when he was coming back or when Sylvia could take him to see the old man. Sylvia kept putting him off, saying "We'll see" instead of no, hoping the boy's fixation would pass. In the meantime, any distraction was welcome.
Sylvia wrinkled her nose. Whatever this creature was, it stunk. A part of her immediately loathed the thing, but her curiosity edged her forward. Some of its mucous appeared to be oozing through the mesh of the screen. She leaned closer and heard Phemus whine.
"It's all right, boy."
She reached out a finger to—
A hand grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back. She whirled and saw Ba. Sylvia stared in shock at the giant Vietnamese. He never touched her, not even to help her out of the car. He looked paler than usual, and he was sweating.
"Ba? What's wrong?"
"Please, Missus, no. Terrible sorry, but you mustn't touch it."
"I wasn't going to touch it, just get a better look."
"Please—let me close the door."
"What is it, Ba? I've never seen anything like it before. Have you?"
"No, Missus, but is an evil thing. You can tell by the smell."
The smell was bad, that was for sure, but if odor were a worthy criterion, Limberger cheese would be evil too. Ba was truly concerned, though, almost frightened. Sylvia had to respect that. An overt sign of emotion from the Vietnamese was an extraordinary event, not something to be taken lightly. And for him to show fear, that was almost unthinkable. Sylvia was suddenly a little afraid herself.
"Very well, Ba," she said, stepping away from the door. "We'll lock up if you think it best."
He smiled with relief. But as he reached for the door to swing it closed, something crashed into the screen. Another bug, but this one was different. A vicious-looking thing that seemed to be all mouth—but its jaws were lined with hundreds of transparent teeth that looked like tiny glass daggers. Some of those teeth had thrust through the metal mesh of the screen on impact. The creature gripped the screen with its tiny claws and began chewing, ripping an ever-larger hole in it.
Ba slammed the door shut as its head poked through.
"My God!" she cried. "What are those things?"
"What are what?" Alan said as he rolled his wheelchair into the kitchen.
"Chew bugs and booger bugs!" Jeffy said.
Sylvia felt him press against her leg, clinging to it. He seemed afraid now. She smoothed his blond hair and offered him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
"Don't be afraid, Jeffy. They can't get in here."
"Yes, they can! They want to eat me!"
Just then another of the toothed insects buzzed against the screen of the casement window over the sink as Alan was passing. He stopped his chair and stared.
"What the—?"
As it began to chew at the screen, Ba stepped past Alan and tried to bat it away, but his efforts only seemed to enrage the thing. It buzzed more loudly, attracting another of its kind.
"Close the window!" Jeffy wailed as he trembled against Sylvia's leg. "Don't let them get me!"
Alan sat calmly in his wheelchair and stared at the creatures. He had to know he was directly in harm's way should those things get through, but nothing seemed to frighten him since his recovery from the coma last year. The only concession he made to the things was to pull a dish towel from under the sink and slowly wrap it around his right hand.
Ba glanced at her, a helpless look in his eyes. Sylvia saw the problem. If Ba wound the casement windows closed, the two things would be trapped between the glass and the screen. He'd be all but pushing them into the kitchen. But if more were coming, it might be better to shut them.
Apparently Ba came to the same conclusion. He wound the windows closed on the things. And none too soon—a third bounced off the glass seconds later. The confined space trapped their wings and stopped their buzzing, but not their chewing at the screen. What was he going to do with—?
She saw Ba pull open the knife drawer.
"Come on, Jeffy," she said, turning him away. "Those things haven't got a chance against Ba and Alan, so why don't we go upstairs and—"
"I'm scared, Mommy," Jeffy said. "I don't want to go upstairs. What if they come in those windows too?"
The upstairs windows. She'd left them open. Such a beautiful day, she'd wanted to air out the house. God, she had to get up there and close them!
"How about the basement?" she said. "No windows down there. Want to wait in the basement for a few minutes while I check upstairs?"
He nodded eagerly. There was a play room down there for him with a lot of his toys. He'd be safe, and what was more he'd feel safe down there.
"Want Phemus to come along?"
"Yes! That way he'll be safe too."
Sylvia ushered Jeffy and the dog down the hall to the basement door. When she flipped on the basement lights, Jeffy pointed down the steps.
"Look, Mommy. Mess is here too!"
She looked and saw the family cat huddled at the bottom of staircase, its pupils wide, fur standing out in all directions. It looked spooked. Phemus ran down the steps and waited next to Mess.
"Great. Both of your friends will be with you."
She waited for him to go down but he stopped on the first step and sat on the little landing inside the door.
"Aren't you going down?"
He looked up at her with frightened blue eyes.
"Close the door and I'll wait right here."
"You're sure?"
He nodded solemnly.
"Okay," she said. "But I'll be right back. And don't you worry about a thing."
Feeling like some sort of abusive mother locking her child in a closet, she pushed the door closed. The click of the latch echoed in her heart like the clang of a jail cell door. But it was what Jeffy wanted. She'd never seen him so frightened. Granted, those things were vicious looking, ready to grind up anything that got in their way, but what made him think they were after him specifically? A carry-over from his years of autism?
She didn't want to think about that, didn't even want to entertain the possibility that he might slide back into his former impenetrable state.