Prologue

From my bedroom window there is so much I can see. Some days I just stay up here with my dog Cricket and look down on the world and lose track of time. There is Mr. Stars waxing his car. Yes, he is waxing it at night. One night I had to know why so I went outside and asked him about it. Wow, that was a mistake. He gave me a science lesson, using words like polymers and chemical bonds. It was something about the sun reacting with the wax and heat of the car. I wish he just told me that it’s the only chance he had during the day. 

Mrs. Collins is vacuuming her living room for the sixth time this week. What could they possibly do in that house to make it that dirty? There’s good old Dr. Harry. I don’t really consider him a real doctor, he’s just a psychiatrist. These days I see him way too often. It looks like he is running late tonight for his regular 8:30 run to his mailbox. He must have had a marathon session with the Spencer kid after I had left him. That Spencer kid is bananas. Oh, and there is Susan, sitting in her window doing exactly what I am doing, but the difference is that she writes everything down. She is as crazy as the Spencer kid. No wonder Dr. Harry has such a good business, he is right in the heart of Crazytown, Long Island.

Usually when I see Susan doing her thing, I get embarrassed that her thing is my thing as well. Usually this is the point where I leave my window and turn on the television or play a video game or something else just as unproductive.  This night it even looks like Cricket is embarrassed for me. “I need a life.” I said as I rested my head on my folded arms. 

I must have fallen asleep on the windowsill. Here I am, drool leaking from my mouth, running down my cheek, creases in my arm and on my face. It must have been sometime towards the middle of the night. I am not sure if a noise woke me up, or this weird dream I was having about flying around the neighborhood.  It was just me, no plane or even a jetpack; I was flying like a bird.  Anyway, I looked at the clock and it is only 10:30. I rubbed my eyes once, twice and three times.

 “Ah that was better, now let’s see what going on out here.” Mr. Stars was gone, but his car was shining bright. Mrs. Collins was not vacuuming anymore, but it looked like Mr. Collins was making a bed out of his couch. “Uh oh, trouble in paradise.” Wait a second, Susan wasn’t at her window. Did she find somewhere else to be? I noticed that her bedroom window was open. I started scanning down from her bedroom window. Down, down and - Ah! She’s standing outside of my window.

“Todd!” she yell whispered. 

“What are you doing Susan? It’s almost 11.” I rebutted with annoyance. 

“Todd, you’ve got to listen to me.  I saw the weirdest thing- Marty and- and then Dr. Harry- This little girl-. Oh my god, it was so freaky. I got chills.” 

“What?” I began laughing. “I don’t have any clue what you’re trying to say to me.” 

“Ok, let me slow down,” she took a pause and a deep breath and proceeded to go on for about a half hour with this very unbelievable story. I shouldn’t breeze over it though.

Susan’s story went something like this, 

So, it was 8:45, Doctor Harry is at his mailbox at the end of his driveway flipping through his mail like he always does. He sure does get a lot of mail. 

As she spoke I realized I saw Dr. Harry going for his mail. That’s when I had fallen asleep. 

Along came Marty, two-hundred and fifty pounds of disheveled teenage blubber complete with a dirty oil stained, smelly sweatshirt hanging off his body, I can almost smell him. Marty walked up to the Doctor and he seemed to be in a panic and sweating a lot, even for Marty it was a lot of sweat. He seemed very anxious and stumbled right into the Doctor. Marty could not avoid a conversation then, even if it was only to apologize. There was no apology here.

“Harry! We’ve got to go! Run man Run!” he yelled in the Harry’s face, getting little drops of spit on the doctor’s suit. Marty and the Doc knew one another from therapy, so of course the doctor recognized him. Harry knew something was wrong. We were just talking about Marty earlier. Marty began running down the street or what was the equivalent of running for him. The doctor yelled out and told Marty to come back. Marty walked over very sloth like. Marty always could frustrate the hell out of adults by his blatant disrespect in his actions. He rarely said anything disrespectful, but he definitely got his message across with his actions, like the “slow walk”, he was a master at that.

“It is you Marty isn’t it?” Harry asked. Marty just kept his head down, staring at the ground and slowly walked towards the doctor. 

“How can it be? How is it possible?” The doctor asked. “Where have you been? How did you survive that fire?”  Noticing Marty’s head had scar tissue on it from a burn he reached his hand out to inspect the scar.

That’s when it happened. Marty snapped. He began screaming and spitting as he yelled profanity after profanity and then got right up in the Doc’s face. 

Harry was in good shape for an older guy, and was quick to back up and put his hands up in defense. That’s when the Doctor began to piece things together. He began making some kind of accusations at Marty, pointing his index finger in his face, very animated and very loud. 

Marty paused for a moment, smiled, and even a small giggle escaped his body. He reached out and in one fluid motion, lunged forward and bit the accusatory fingers that were in his face. Marty bit the fingers clean off at the knuckle and swallowed them whole. All that was left was Harry’s pinky and half of his ring finger. Marty must have broken a tooth on the Doctor’s ring, which was found in the street later, covered in blood.

In shock, the Doc just watched as Marty wiped the blood off his mouth with his sleeve. Marty once again lunged at the Doctor, who was coming to his faculties, and began running away. The Doctor disappeared down the dark street in a flash. Marty gave chase, as only Marty could, very slowly. I had to follow them, too. The Doc was losing blood, and running in a panic for his life. As he went deeper into the neighborhood, Susan said she had noticed that the streets got darker, and more difficult to maneuver. 

Marty was unable to keep up so Harry, after running full speed for a few blocks, was able to slow down to a jog. He stumbled over curbs, sideswiped parked cars, and finally tripped in a pothole and fell down in the middle of a street. Harry lay there for a moment, clearly exhausted, and looked up.

As he looked up from the pavement I saw a small light coming from the end of the block and a silhouetted outline appeared almost out of nowhere. It was a little girl and she was moving closer. He crawled over towards the curb and propped himself into a kneeling position. The girl did not say anything, but came closer and closer, and was now directly in front of him. This sweeter than ever little voice spoke, “Hey Mister, what’s the matter?” 

“Oh my god, what are you doing out here so late? We need to get you off the streets; we need to get you inside.” He said as he struggled to reach his feet. 

“What is your name, sweetie? Which house is yours?”

“I’m Sally, but don’t worry. Everything is O.K. Harry, I like it out here.”  The little girl said, in a very matter of fact, and suddenly very adult sounding voice. Harry froze in place as if he knew something was very wrong.  Harry slowly turned his head; the light was bringing the girl into fully illuminated view rather than just the silhouette she was up until now. The girls face began to show clear as she lunged toward his face with her long sharp teeth crookedly glaring in the reflective light. She was too fast; he couldn’t do anything to stop it. He just sat there as she dug in once, twice and a third time before she ripped and twisted his head back and forth, like a wild animal. Marty soon ran up on them and joined in the feast. It must have been a horrific scene. They both sat up and proceeded to lick the blood off of one another’s face.

 “We are such a great couple,” Sally giggled. Marty just kept on devouring the good Doctor’s back, like he was some sort of scavenger. “I guess that’s what he is now,” Susan added, “nothing but a scavenger.” 

“That is a great story and at the same time the most unbelievable pile of garbage I have ever heard,” I told her laughing the whole time. “I think you need Dr. Harry to up your meds.” 

“Huh?!? What the-?” I jumped up. One-second I am laughing with Susan and without pause, without anytime at all passing it seemed; the very next moment its morning and I am in bed. Maybe it was another dream; a much weird and more unbelievable dream. I was still groggy when my alarm clock went off to wake me for summer school. Stretching my arms and looking around, I caught a glimpse of Susan’s bedroom window, it was open.