The October People by M. L. Bullock

Author:M. L. Bullock [Bullock, M. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2018-10-29T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight—Jocelyn

I hung around the auditorium for an hour, but the boy’s face never reappeared. I prayed that the camera had captured something. “Please don’t tear up my equipment while I’m gone,” I said to whoever might be listening. Geesh, how cold was it now? My phone app said 52 degrees Fahrenheit, but I could see my breath.

Wait, that wasn’t my breath. It was someone else’s, and they were standing beside me. Someone much shorter and invisible. I didn’t move but watched the tiny clouds of breath appear and disappear, and they were getting farther away. He was leaving the auditorium! Could this be the boy I saw?

“Hey, wait!” I said, but the tiny puffs of frosty air disappeared and reappeared, each time a little farther away. I ran out into the hall, but there was no trace of anyone or anything remotely like what I saw. He was leading me somewhere, but where?

You know where, Jocelyn Graves. Back to your room. He likes it in there.

I hurried up the stairs, but it was impossible to be quiet. I don’t know why I bothered trying. The entity or entities that lived here already knew I was here. Maybe I was afraid to draw more attention to myself. I couldn’t say. Then I heard my phone ring. But I turned the ringer off…that’s not right. I raced down the hall and dug in my bag to find it. The phone was glowing, and the ringtone brought me some comfort. It was hard to be afraid when your favorite pop singer was singing about being “happy.”

“Hello?” I said a little too desperately. What time was it anyway? I glanced at my watch. Was it seven o’clock already? Yeah, sure enough. I could see the sun coming over the forest at the back of the house. How was it I was losing track of time here? I wasn’t usually this off-schedule.

“Hi, Miss Graves? This is Melissa with Happy Paws.”

“Oh no, is it Sherman? Is he hurt?”

“He’s not hurt, but he refuses to eat or drink anything. He doesn’t act as if he feels well. I was wondering, is your dog on any kind of medication? Or does he have a condition that we need to be aware of? Maybe something you forgot to list on his paperwork?”

“Condition? Is Sherman okay?”

“Well, I’m not sure. That’s why I’m calling. Some dogs don’t do well in boarding situations, and Sherman is clearly one of those dogs.” She didn’t sound upset, but I could hear the genuine concern in her voice.

“He hasn’t hurt anyone, has he? He’s never been aggressive with me. Never.”

She answered in a kind voice, “No, nothing like that. He’s moping, not going out, not eating. He might be sick, and if he is, he shouldn’t be around our other visitors. I hope you understand. You will have to come get him or send someone.”

“Uh, okay. I’m not far away. I will come get him, Melissa. Thanks for the call.”

I could hear the sympathy in her voice.

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