MicroHorror

David hangs up the phone, closes his door and the light goes out.

I pad downstairs, slump into the sofa and swig my beer. He needs to ace next week’s finals or he’ll be doing make-ups all summer and I want him earning some tuition working for Lonnie at the board shop in Sausalito. At least he’s finished with Leeza’s crazy witchcraft thing since she fled down to Arcata.

“He gone to sleep?” Maria asks from the kitchen. She’s packing lunch for her shift at the hospital.

“I guess. He hung up.”

“I told him fifteen minutes on the phone.”

“Yeah.”

“He plays Warcraft or something, I think,” she calls. “He’s tapping the keyboard.”

“Yeah, but he’s gone to sleep.”

“I can hear him now,” she says.

I listen. It’s vague, but not tapping. More like a soft drum set, someone playing an opening jazz shuffle. “What’s he doing?”

“I gotta get going.”

“Yeah, I’ll go check.” Damn kid.

In the kitchen I kiss Maria’s cheek. Rain’s started, the drops driving against the kitchen windows.

“He’ll be fine,” Maria says. “We’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” I mutter. “We’ll be fine. Have a good night.” I take the back stairs and from the landing I can see a maelstrom of rain like heavy dark sleet. Sleet in May? It doesn’t feel cold. I press into the glass. The ice balls hit the path and scuttle off like spiders. Strange weather.

I hear the fridge close, then Maria zipping her bag.

At the top of the stairs I push David’s door. From downstairs I hear Maria scream. In a hoarse whisper David says, “Leeza,” then his door slams. Maria screams again.

I fly down the stairs, spinning on the landing. I catch a brief glimpse of the sleet now bunching on the outside sill. Furry with beaded eyes. I take the bottom flight in two leaps.

Maria is leaning against the back door. She’s surrounded by a writhing mass of fur and eyes and claws and teeth. More of them are flowing in through the narrow gap and she’s slowly being pushed back.

I stomp over, kicking the furballs aside. Some of them latch on with teeth and claws and I stumble. Maria shudders and the door opens wide. They flood in, swamping her. I lurch back, grab the phone from by the fridge and punch in call-return, wondering if it works from a different extension. I hear it ringing. Once, twice. Maria’s hand reaches through the morass and I wade towards her, but the current of them forces me back. Someone answers the phone.

“Leeza?” I say. David had called her.

“Mr. Baker? Why… oh, you’ve got Skitters. Don’t let them in the house.”

“They’re already in the house,” I say. Maria is struggling to her feet, but the flow isn’t slowing.

“We had a fight,” Leeza says. “He said he had some old spells to use if I didn’t move back.”

“I thought he broke up with you?”

“No,” she laughs. “Oh, they’re in the house?”

“I’m bleeding.”

“Hold out the phone, I’ll fix it.”

I turn the phone and Leeza makes a high-pitched whistling. The waves of fur subside, drifting away like dandelions on the wind. I go to Maria, slumped on the floor, breathing in gasps. “I’m okay,” she says, sitting up. “Scratched, bruised, but I’ll be all right.”

“You better check on David,” Leeza says. “He will have been in the center.”

“Thanks,” I say and see David standing at the bottom of the stairs, bleeding, his clothes shredded.

“They went out the window,” he says. “And kept coming and coming.”

“Let me speak to him,” Leeza says

I pass him the phone then help Maria up.

“Okay,” David says to Leeza. “Okay, yes. I understand. One condition? Okay, I’ll see you soon, then.” He clicks the phone off. “Lonnie’s place, then.” He says to us, nodding. “For the summer, then head on to Berkeley.”

“Good,” I say, and Maria smiles at him.

• Copyright: © 2008 Sean Monaghan