Acre Under a Green Sky

The night Janet's killer came for us, I dreamed.

My father and I were walking a path through a lovely wooded glen. He was reading to me from a book as we walked. The path opened onto a lawn and a small cottage appeared. One whole wall of the cottage was open to the lawn. Inside, was a grand piano with three sofas facing it. At that moment, I realized that the book my father was reading was one of Angel's comic books. Then, in the way of dreams, we were inside the room, and I was afraid we'd be discovered by the owners. There was a door to one side leading into the rest of the house, and I saw someone move in a far off room. Just then, the piano started playing. I turned to see my mother playing the piano. Almost immediately, she stopped playing and looked up at us and said, "You know what I want? Cantaloupe halves with a scoop of chocolate ice cream in the center. How does that sound?"

I woke up in the dark of my room with my mouth all-a-tang for a cantaloupe half with a scoop of chocolate ice cream in the center. My mouth ached for it. And in that half-awake; half-asleep longing, I looked over to the bed next to mine and saw my mother tucking Danny in. She was saying something softly to him, and then she turned and saw that I was awake. She moved toward me to tuck me in, too. Only something was wrong. It was Mrs. Eagle. She clasped her hand hard to my mouth and sat next to me on the bed.

"Quiet," she said in a terrible whisper, "We don't want to wake your father."

Even in the dark, I could see that she was insane, and only then did it occur to me that I hadn't seen her in months. No one had. She was the kind of woman you don't miss until she reappears after an absence.

"Can I trust you?" she whispered.

I nodded my head under her vise-like grip over my mouth, and she slowly released her grip and withdrew her hand. I pulled myself up against the headboard of the bed, and whispered, "He's a real light sleeper."

"We'll have to be very quiet then."

She appeared to relax as if she were settling down for a nice long chat. She crossed her arms over her lap, and that's when I noticed the hatchet in her hand. I turned with a jerk toward Danny. There was no movement. The blanket covered him totally, and he was deathly still.

"He's sleeping," she said.

"Shouldn't we wake him? He's going to be real mad if he misses anything."

"What did Santa bring you?" she asked with a horrible smile. "My God, she's not wearing her teeth," I thought.

"Was Santa good to you?"

"We got your card,” I said, "It was real nice."

"What card?"

"Didn't you send a Christmas card?"

"Probably. I send out so many every year. Don't know why? Never get any back, but my Rod has his career to think about. He's a banker, you know."

"I know Rod."

"Of course you do. I don't know what I'm thinking. He's a good boy –– my Rodney."

"I like him a lot."

"Everyone does. I got him the most beautiful sweater for Christmas –– all blue and white, but try to get him out of that dark old suit of his. Really, that boy wears me out."

I was half-crazy with fear; not so much for myself, but for Danny and Ruth. Was Danny already dead? And had she come to us from Ruth's room? My imagination was tormenting me. I didn't even notice that her whisper was gradually becoming more conversational. I was choking back tears when I said, "I think I should wake up Danny."

"Let him sleep. Young boys need their sleep."

I started out of the bed to wake Danny; but she stopped me, saying, "Be still. You'll wake the whole house."

Now, I was crying opening; quietly, and I heard myself say, "Mrs. Eagle, you're scaring me."

She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tenderly with comforting hushes and cooing. I could feel her soft warm breasts against my shoulders and the cold blade of the hatchet resting against my head. Then she rearranged us in the bed so that I was lying across her lap with my cheek against her breast like a baby. She began rocking me with a soothing; "shhhhhh," on her every breath. I was afraid to stop crying.

Then I heard my father say, "Flo? Is that you?"

I turned my head to see my father standing in our doorway wearing nothing but a white undershirt. Mrs. Eagle hushed him softly and whispered, "He was upset."

"Thank you, Flo," he whispered back.

My father entered the room so slowly it was almost imperceptible, and I wondered if he realized he was totally exposed from the waist down. No one seemed to notice but me.

I don't think he knew he was reaching for the hatchet as he approached us. It was an involuntary response. Had he been thinking, I'm sure he wouldn't have shown his hand so soon.

"Go on back to bed," she said, "He's all right now."

"Are you sure?" he said.

"Sure, he's just fine now. Aren't you, boy? Probably just a bad dream. I'll stay with him till he falls back asleep."

My father's hand was just inches from the hatchet when she said in full voice, "Go on now. Back to bed." My father froze where he stood, and it was then we heard Danny say, "Daddy, I'm hungry."

I nearly cried out. I was so glad to hear Danny's voice. He sat up in his bed, and said again, "I'm hungry."

My father grabbed Danny into his arms and held him close and away from Mrs. Eagle. When he recovered himself, my father said, "Yeah. I'm hungry, too. How 'bout some cereal?"

"Me, too," I said, "I'm hungry, too."

"Well, you're certainly not going to have cereal at this hour," Mrs. Eagle said, "All that sugar. No, I'll fix up some eggs."

"And bacon and toast?" my father said.

"Don't know if I have bacon," she said, taking me by the hand and leading me into the hall, "And let's get some lights on around here."

"No!" Danny piped up, "Daddy's all naked down there."

"Nothing I haven't seen," Mrs. Eagle said, as she lead me down the stairs.

"Is Mrs. Eagle our new day housekeeper?" Danny asked.

My father stayed close behind Mrs. Eagle flicking on lights as we went. Passing through the living room into the kitchen, he grabbed the afghan from the couch to cover himself. Mrs. Eagle turned on the kitchen light herself, and I wondered how she knew where to find the switch. As far as I knew, she had never been inside our house before. She released my hand and went straight to the refrigerator. She opened the door and put the hatchet on top of the refrigerator. She pulled out a basket of eggs and put them on the countertop.

My father grabbed me and pulled me toward the doorway leading to the living room. For a moment I thought he was thinking of making a run for the front door. "Ruth!" I whispered up at him. He stopped, and I watched as his eyes darted about the room as if looking for a weapon or a means of escape or a reason for all this.

"I do have bacon!" Mrs. Eagle exclaimed, turning on us with the package of bacon outstretched in her hand. Her joy of discovery instantly turned to dismay when she saw us huddled in the doorway. "Now we're in for it!" I thought.

"Put some pants on, man," was all she said before turning back to the refrigerator. The afghan was lying like a pool of brilliant color at our feet. My father put Danny down and started ushering us out of the room, when Mrs. Eagle stopped us. "It doesn't take all of you. You go," she said, pointing to me.

"What should I do?" I asked my father.

"Get my pants from the chair by the bed," he said, and then he bent toward me and whispered, "Call Will."

I ran up the stairs and directly into Ruth's room. She was fast asleep. I picked her up and carried her into my father's room. I laid her at the foot of his bed and balled up the quilt around her. She was well hidden. No one would have suspected that a small child lay under there. Then I picked up the phone on the nightstand and waited for the operator to respond. It seemed to take forever.

Finally she came on, and I said, "Police please."

As I waited there for the police to come on the line, all I could think of was how funny those two words were together. Police please. Say it out loud. Police please. My heart was pounding and I was scared shitless, but I was sitting there on my father's bed questioning my use of those two words; thinking how awkward they were together.

George The Dispatcher answered and I told him who I was and that my father wanted Will Mosko at our house right away. There was a crazy lady here with a hatchet. He said he'd get right on it.

When I got back down to the kitchen, Danny was sitting on my father's lap at the kitchen table, and Mrs. Eagle was busy frying eggs and bacon at the stove. I moved around the kitchen table and stood next to my father. He looked down at his hand under the table, and I followed his gaze. He had Mrs. Eagle's hatchet resting on his knee. I could have kissed him. I looked down at the hatchet again for reassurance and saw the cheek of my father's bare butt. I forgot to get his pants.

I think I was the only one who heard a car pull up to the front of the house, but nothing happened for the longest time. Then Danny pointed to the kitchen window, and said, "Look!"

"Shut up!" I said. His hand was still extended out toward the window where Clay Lancaster was peering in at us. I grabbed Danny's hand and pushed it back down to his side. Then we all heard the front door open. Mrs. Eagle didn't bat an eye.

Will Mosko appeared in our kitchen doorway with his gun drawn.

"Flo," he said, "What's going on here?"

Mrs. Eagle turned away from the stove to face him with a sizzling skillet in one hand and a spatula in the other. She didn't seem surprised to see him.

"Put the skillet down, Flo, and turn the burner off."

She did as she was told. Then we were all startled by the sound of her hatchet hitting the floor, and my father rose to his feet.

Will glanced over in his direction, and said, "Not a pretty sight, Josh. You might want to cover yourself," and he kicked the afghan toward my father.

"Come on, Flo," Will said, backing out of the room, "Let's have a seat in here. I think we'll be more comfortable."

Mrs. Eagle passed in front of Will and sat in my mother's chair. My father grabbed the afghan and wrapped it around himself like a skirt as he ran down the hall and up the stairs. Just then, Clay and two other officers came in through the back door and a moment later there were two more at the front door.

Then there was a terrible cry from upstairs.

"She's gone! Jesus Christ in heaven, she's gone!"

"No," I said; but before I could move, we heard Ruth crying. My father's cry had startled her awake. He brought her downstairs wrapped in the quilt I had buried her in; and Danny said, "Can we eat now?"

"Sure you can," Clay said, and he took Danny and Ruth into the kitchen to have the eggs and bacon Mrs. Eagle had prepared for us.

All the while, Mrs. Eagle sat there with a look of amused confusion. She was like someone lost in the midst of an elaborate practical joke; looking from face to face for some clue to its meaning.

"Flo," Will said at last, "Did you kill Janet McConnell?"

Mrs. Eagle's restless eyes lighted on Will, and she said, "I killed a snake in the garden."