Nocturnesque Chapter 2
by Jeff Lewis (aka The Werewolf!) © 1985
A typical Saturday night. Sitting in a smelly singles bar looking for
someone to take home for the night. Boring. Why do all the girls in
this town look so sleazy? If they took the time to look good, maybe work
out like I do, they wouldn't have to hang out in bars like this. Hmm,
bad logic there, why do I have to hang out in bars like this? I guess
deep down I like it.
Hello, what's this? Now there's a looker. God, a silk drape dress in
grey and white. Wow! And that face! Slim and just a little oriental,
just right. Incredible!
I watch her drift over to a table and settle into a pose that would kill
most of the men here. She slowly took in the room, resting for a moment
on each guy, sizing them up and then moving on to the next. I was both
desperate for her to get to me and yet terrified that she would continue
Then we met. Her eyes were a golden hazel that burned with a secret.
Even across the room, I felt the fire. A smile crosses her lips and she
moves on. I'm crushed.
After a chance at someone like that the others in the room are too
pathetic to even think about. I turn to the bar and finish my drink. I
have to have just one last look and then go. I turn and she's gone.
Getting up, I turn to the exit and slowly plow my way through the
crowds. I push the door open and turn down the street. As I cross the
back alley way, a shudder, like a cold wind, moves up my spine, then
passes. Someone's behind me! Well this mugger's picked the wrong night
to hit on me. I turn suddenly and raise my fist.
All I see is a skirl of grey silk and then nothing. God, am I losing my
mind? There's a glint of metal on the ground. I bend over and pick it
up; it's some sort of medallion. I pocket it and head for home.
Ummm. A good catch. Just what I need. I can still feel him. I begin to
walk, taking in the sounds of the quiet neigbourhood. I hear the
squabbles and the televisions and the mothers singing to their children.
I hear the older sounds of the people who once lived and have left their
sounds in their old homes. Happy sounds and sad sounds.
I turn the street and the raucous blare of some deaf fools music strikes
me. I gasp and shudder, covering my ears. Hurrying, solace is found at
the next turn. A beautiful old church, the gentle harmony of the long
past choir caressing me. I move to the great oak and rest against it,
soaking in the age and serenity.
My eyes see nocturnal friends. The cats, mice and other fellow
night-owls, large and small. I call to the small one believing himself
hidden in the bushes. He starts and then realizes that he is safe. He
comes forth and brushes his bristly whiskers against my hand. I gather
my little friend up, cradle him in the warmth of my arms and press my
lips to his face.
He rubs against my face tickling me with his silky fur. We look into
each others eyes and I see his flare. I rub his soft ears and then
lower him to the ground. He gives a soft growl and slides into the
I continue through the dark streets to a little path leading to the
beach. The trees and flowers speak with their scents; one whispering a
subtle perfume, the next shouting a harsh pungency. They snatch at me
with their wooden fingers and beg me to stay; yet I continue.
The trees part and a glowing waterscape greets me. I step onto the cool
sand shedding my sandles. I pause and reach for my clasp; the dress
billows around me to the ground. I stretch and run my arms through my
hair. I look up to the moon, only a quarter full. How sad, the light is
Crouching, I rest my hands on the sand then rock up onto my toes. I
relax, feeling the cool night air moving over the beach. Within minutes,
I am done and begin to move over the sand. I run and jump, feeling the
pull of my muscles. Warm now, I look for a little something to eat.
A small field mouse scurries in the tall grass and I bound over. I'm not
really very hungry, but the hunt is fun. I pounce on the little one and
give chase. I almost hope the mouse gets away, but I am very good at
this and the chase makes me hungry. After toying for a bit, I leap and
land on it. As is my custom, I apologize and then snap into it. Two
bites and I'm finished. I love the warm rush as the juices run down my
I run for a bit; more splashing in the water and just being silly. I
snap at the pussywillow playing that they are birds to catch or menaces
to trap. Finally, I tire, grow drowsy, and curl up near my dress and
drift into sleep. I dream of mice and my new man.
I walk home through the dirty streets, drunks begging for dimes and
punks strutting. God, how I hate this place. I guess it wouldn't be so
bad for those rich fat-cat aldermen. They live in the ritzy area of
I move up the walkway and push open the door. In the lobby a couple of
weirdoes are groping to the sound of some punk/new-wave screaming. I
grit my teeth and not for the first time think about how much fun I
could have with a machine gun.
The elevator light shows all the elevators at the top as usual and most
of them not moving. I push the button. Nothing happens. I'm convinced
the ritzies in the top floor penthouses block the doors just to irritate
the rest of us low life.
Finally, an elevator comes down to ground and I enter. Some moron has
poured a bottle of beer onto the tacky red carpet making the elevator
car smell like a brewery and my feet stick to the floor.
Pulling free from the elevator I walk the short path down to my
"luxurious 6th floor suite." Turning the key in the lock, I push open
the door and move into the darkness. Enough light enters from the
balcony to let me see and I leave the lights off. I like the dark. A
quick stop at the kitchen to pick up a coke and I go to the bedroom.
I slide my hand into my pocket and take out the medallion I found on the
street. It looks like bronze or brass and feels cool in my hand. It has
some ornate design I've never seen before with triangles and circles
woven together. There is some sort of writing on the outer rim but I
can't make heads nor tails of it. I place it down on my night table,
turn the light out and the radio on. "Africa" by Toto's playing so I lay
back in the bed and wait for my favourite line about "Wild dogs cry out
in the night, looking for some solitary company..." Someday I'll figure
how you can have solitary company; it sounds just like what I need.
As the music progresses I grow sleepy and yet for some reason, restless.
Another night of insomnia ahead. Turning and rolling, finally, I find a
comfortable position and begin to nod off. The last thing I see is the
moonlight bouncing off the medallion and then I'm asleep.
The sun streams over me and warms me from my slumber. I rise and shake
the clinging sand, then run to the water and dive in to wash myself. The
water holds me but I pull free from its gentle grip and throw the
weighty burden it leaves on me to the wind.
Suddenly I hear voices and realize the danger. I hurry to my clothes and
change so that I might wear them. I drape the cloth about me and gather
my hair up into a braid. Clasping the broach, I step into my sandles and
settle on a large warm rock for a moment as I gather the morning about.
I return along the path I took the previous night and walk through the
same neighbourhood. In the harsh daylight they seem quaint yet somehow
dulled and dead. Not quite real. The children play along the roads and
their laughter thrills me. I love children. They can see what I can see
when they want to. We share the same secrets. But then they grow older
and they forget. First their soul dies and then they die. Ashes to
I shake these gloomy thoughts from my head and walk to my home. The old
wooden door greets me with its furrows and groans happily as I push
against the warm surface. I pass my landlord as I begin to climb the
stairs to the upstairs suite where I live.
She's a nice person in her own way. She's a "liberated woman," a badge
of pride she wears larger each day as if to shield herself from any
possible harm. Behind it, she's a charming woman concerned about me and
the city and the world and, oh, just about everything. Kind of a
world-mother who won't admit it to herself.
She asks if I'm alright. I am. She warns me about staying out all night
with a wink. I really am alright. You've got to bring over the young
man she says to me. What makes you think it's a young man, I reply? She
smiles and says that if it isn't; it should be. Some feminist, I throw
back to her and she begins to laugh. Well, when you're ready; you must
bring him over. I will, I say, climb the stairs and enter the old
I change into sensible clothes. That means clothes that itch and
constrain and hurt. I gather up a purse and some stuff in a bag for work
and put on a watch which tells me I've got to hurry.
Running down the stairs two at a time, I run for the bus, catch it with
only minutes to spare and get to work only half an hour late. Lucky my
boss isn't a stickler for hours.
I awake with a start. Such strange dreams, running through the water,
killing animals and eating them. Yi! It really felt good to do that in
My mind feels foggy. I gulp down the remnants of warm cola and the rush
of caffeine clears my head. I stumble in to the shower and do the
morning ritual of setting the water too hot and wincing in pain as I
reset the temperature to a more decent level.
After showering, I go to brush my teeth and for the first time notice an
awful taste in my mouth. I brush with a vengeance then gargle and the
taste finally goes away.
I dress and ride down to the parkade. Why can't they find some way to
get rid of that choking lack of air in parkades? I climb into the car
and drive to work.
Of all the things in my miserable life, the worst thing is my job. A
civil servant misery of tedium working with half-witted morons too
incompetant to fill out a simple form. Unfortunately it pays well and
with unemployment as high as it is, I can't afford to quit.
So, I endure it day in and day out. They do as well. We all endure it.
What a life.
Finally, the day ends. I like my job and the people at work but they
make me nervous. Their presence is a pressure on me to be like them and
I can't be that. I know I make them nervous too but I can't help that.
So I try to be as normal as I can be. I think my eyes bother them the
I bus home and run up to my suite. I've been thinking about my new man
all day, drawing little pictures of him. I'm really eager for this hunt
and have to hold myself back.
I drive home and feel a lump in my pocket. As I pull into my stall, it
digs into my thigh, making me wince. When I climb out of my car, I reach
into my pocket and pull out the medallion. Odd, I didn't put it in
there; I left it on the night-table.
Slipping it back into my pocket, I race up the stairs to my suite and
check the night-table. Sure enough; it's there. So where did the other
one come from? I go to pull it out only to find empty cloth. Oh my God,
I am going nuts.@@ CC
I know all this has to do with that woman I saw last night. Maybe I've
let myself get so lonely that I'm going crazy. I know I can't let this
kind of thing go on.
I take up the medallion and walk to the balcony. Raising my arm I hurl
it out as hard as I can. There! Let it be someone elses problem.
I make a light supper. I'm not very hungry for some reason. First some
soup to settle the stomach. The warm liquid is good and calms me down.
I scoop down to get the thick vegetables at the bottom and feel a heavy
lump in the soup. A knot forms in anticipation as I dredge the lump up.
This night I think I'll just go for a run. I put on my evening clothes
and quietly descend the stairs. I'd rather not have an encounter with
Emily, I'm feeling a little claustrophobic and I want to get out
I have a little place around the back where the trees can hide me and I
go there to change. It's dangerous in the suburbs but no ones caught me
yet. I pick a direction and start.
A couple of tranquilizers and a mickey of scotch later and I'm still
shaking. Things like this don't happen in real life. Rather than trying
again, I put the damned thing into my pocket and that's where it's
staying for now.
The booze is starting to take effect and I feel a little ill and more
than a little groggy. I lie down in my bed and watch the room spin for a
bit. Now everything is going the same way around.
I stick to back alleys and the shadows. I'm not really afraid of the
people but I don't see any need to call attention to myself. I move out
to a large old park and hear a sharp bark. A handsome Alsation lopes up
and gives me a sniff. He asks me to play and we romp about the park
chasing each other and offering each other twigs and sticks.
We move together through the shrubs and trees and he marks a few as we
pass. I can tell this is his territory. We enter a small clearing and I
can smell the ocean nearby. I want to continue but he hesitates. Looking
back for moment, I push through to a small cliff edge overlooking the
beach I was at yesterday.
I lay upon the thick moist grass as the dog pushes through to join me.
He lies next to me and I feel the warmth of his body as it touches mine.
We lay there looking out over the water and rest.
I can't stay awake and the world keeps winking in and out. Finally, I
stop fighting. Things go black.
Oh! He's asleep. Good, I'd like to go see him. I return to the park
and bid my friend adieu! He's not happy about that and wants to follow
me but I make it quite clear that he can't.
I follow the trail to his place that pulls in my mind. I go closer and
closer and finally end up behind this dingy highrise. I look up and
focus on him.
Ohhh! My head. I awake for a moment and roll over. I reach for the light
and turn it out by knocking it to the floor, plunging the room into
darkness. As I go under for the third count I look out the window and
see a large shape and two fire green lights. Then nothing.
I look in at him. Poor dear! He's drunk or stoned. Nothing to do with me
I hope. I sit on the cold concrete of this balcony and watch for a
while. I refocus and move to his side. I climb onto his bed and look at
It's an earthquake! The world is exploding! Oh my God! I'm gonna die
in my shorts. People shouldn't go sailing in heavy winds, they tend to
throw up. I know I'm going to as soon as I can figure out were I am. I
open my eyes to see those green fires staring me right in the eyes. What
the hell is that!
The great thing pushes a wet tongue against my face and then leaps off
the bed. I leap after it, falling to the floor. Smacking my face against
floor brought back what little sanity I had left. It was about then that
I realized that there was little chance of getting up again. Besides,
what ever that thing was, it was gone.
My mind, in possibly the last act of kindness to a dying man, quietly
went out and this time stayed that way until morning.
Ha ha ha ha! Oh, that was too cruel. My poor little man. I think round
one goes to me. I've tasted him and I'm more certain than ever that he's
the one I've been looking for.
I feel exhilarated and race to my beach, startling a few people. I run
down the path then scurry back and forth across the sand, diving into
the water and smimming then back to shore to shake off the water and run
The Alsation I met earier comes down the path barking and joins in my
game. I don't mind his noise here. This is my territory.
Panting, we rest side by side in the wet sand. It's quite late now and
I should be getting back. I tell him that I'll see him again and head
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