Claws by A. E. Howe

Author:A. E. Howe [Howe, A. E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-30T04:00:00+00:00

Blasko stood for a moment outside of Grace’s house before knocking on the door. Her brother Ronnie and his family had been living there since he’d lost his job and been picking up piecework when he could get it. Blasko had helped him out of a tight spot when Ronnie had been suspected of killing a man.

“Baron, what are you doin’ here? Is Grace okay?” Ronnie asked when he opened the door.

“Grace is fine. I want to talk with her cousin George. She said you can take me over to his house.”

“Sure! What do you want… Oh, you must have heard he seen the monster. He’s been tellin’ everyone he meets about it. I’ll just get my coat and hat.”

As they walked through the cool night air, the streets were deserted. Fear of more attacks had everyone staying indoors. Blasko noticed that faces would occasionally appear at the windows of houses as they passed. One of the silhouettes was holding a shotgun, while another had a baseball bat.

“Are you not afraid to be out here with the monster?” Blasko asked Ronnie.

“Scared enough. I’m waitin’ at Cousin George’s house and walkin’ back with you.”

“If this creature is what I think it is, then you have reason to be cautious.” Blasko wondered if the rest of the town was this empty. It might be telling to see who was and wasn’t afraid to be out and about. Was François still walking to his séances?

“This is it,” Ronnie said and opened a gate that swung awkwardly on a bent hinge. They walked up the dirt path to the porch. No sooner had Ronnie put his weight on the wooden steps than a voice came bellowing out of the house.

“Who’s out there?”

“It’s Ronnie, Cousin George.”

“What the darn fool you doin’ outside?” George said, but stopped when he opened the door and saw Blasko’s shadowy figure standing behind Ronnie. “Who dat?” he asked, alarmed again.

“This is the baron who lives at Miss Josephine’s. Grace told him about you seein’ the monster.”

George seemed to consider whether he wanted to talk with the stranger.

“George, he helped get me out of jail.”

“I remember that. I guess y’all can come in,” he said, holding the door open. “Your sister should learn not to talk so much,” he muttered under his breath as they walked past him.

The house was shotgun-style, like most in the neighborhood. George offered them a seat on a sofa in the front room. A walnut radio the size of a footlocker sat on the floor, softly playing jazz music. George clicked the radio off and sat down across from them.

“I saw it, sure ’nough,” he said as though someone had claimed he hadn’t. George had a broad face and dark eyes that seemed to challenge them to argue with him. His bear-paw-size hands clasped the arms of his chair.

“I want you to tell me everything you saw,” Blasko said.

“You won’t believe me,” George said, sticking out his chin.

“Perhaps I will.”

“I warned you,” the man said, before taking a deep breath and plunging into his story.

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