//------------------------------// // It's cold when I'm alone // Story: Momma // by Opium4TmassS //------------------------------// The cold winter wind hit me in full force as I stepped off the school bus making my eyes water as I tried to bury myself further into my coat looking for any hidden nook of warmth. The land was brown, bare, the sky grey and overcast. It hadn't snowed yet but from the look of the clouds it was due anytime.   On my walk home I started hearing the faint cry from my sister. I was too far away to really understand what she was saying, her words were muffled by the harsh wind to make out but she sounded very upset. I picked up the pace while continuing onward wondering what was wrong.   When I reached the front gate to the farm I finally managed to understand what she was saying and I have to admit I slowed down seeing as all it was was her calling for her damn cat. "TTOOOMMM!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.   Getting closer to the house I saw Liza standing on the front porch in her blue coat that make her look five times her size, holding a can of food. "TTOOOMMM!" my sister screamed again.  "Geez Liza I can hear you clear down the road," I said annoyed at her screeching, "He's probably bundled up someplace warm and toasty." "No he's not!" Her eyes were puffy and wet from crying. "Something's wrong I know it," she said as she pointed at the two cans of food set out this morning and the other night, "Old Tom never missed a meal."  In spite of our recent shaky alliance over our concern about Applejack, the loss of Old Tom didn't move me. In fact a part of me was glad that he might be gone. No more hissing and growling, no more headless birds or dead snakes plopped in front of the door. Yet, when I looked into Liza's eyes I could see how crushed she was at the possible loss and I felt like a heel for any joy I might have had.  Fresh tears ran freely down her cheek, drying out quickly by the winds as she was fighting a losing battle to keep it together. How and why anyone could love such a horrible animal was beyond me, but she did. And how that cat was capable of loving someone else was a mystery as well. If not love, then at least he never hurt her.    "Ah hell," I muttered as I walked down the steps and over to the grate covering the crawlspace. "Let me go and check on him."    It was an old grate made of wood with a hole off to one side that Old Tom used to get in and out of. It took me a few moments of pulling but I was finally able to get the thing off. I leaned it onto the side of the house and peered in.  The space was filled with ancient farm equipment rotting away under the house. I saw the old crate that my parents had set out for Tom with a ratty blanket placed inside of it. But other than that it was too dark to see much beyond it.   "Stay here," I told my sister as I got out my cell phone and turned on the light, "I'll go and check on him."    "I'm coming too," she said, stomping her foot on the ground.   "Stay here.” I said as I raised my voice, "If one of us is going to get into trouble it might as well be me." I stared at her as I kneeled down and went in. Liza huffed and stomped in anger but did what she was told.  The light from my phone was poor and made weird shadows as I shined it across the area. It was an open space filled with generations of forgotten things stacked wherever there was space making it a maze to navigate as I started to crawl in.    "Tom!" wailed Liza, "Are you there?"  "Liza, hush," I grumbled in annoyance of her screaming right next to my ear, "He's probably in the back somewhere stuck or something. I'll look around and try to find him."   The space wasn't very high forcing me to almost crawl on my hands and knees when I got in but sloped downwards to where I could almost walk as I went deeper into the crawlspace. Even though I was out of the winter wind. It felt colder, my teeth clattered and I started to shiver as I worked my way around. I did not like being down here one bit as I worked my way through all the junk.   After a time I looked back and realized I could no longer see the entrance. If it wasn't for the light from my cell phone I would have been in total darkness. It was slow going finding a path between all the junk, I reckoned I must have made my way to the center of the house because I could hear noises coming from the television drift downwards.   "Tom," I yelled out, "Where are you, you damn cat."    It was about that time I heard movement deeper in the crawlspace as something brushed against some of the stuff we had stored down here.   "Tom," I called again figuring I was right all along. The stupid cat was stuck someplace.   I began to shiver as I crawled under the house. For a moment I thought I heard a rustling and quickly turned my head in its direction only to bang it on one of the joints under the house. I saw stars and cursed my stupidity while I waited for my vision to clear.   "Did you find Tom yet," My sister yelled at me, sounding faint and distant.  "No," I replied, rubbing my head, knowing for sure I was going to get a good size goose egg. I grumbled to myself when out of the dark I heard the rustling again. It was closer this time. I held my breath before whispering, "Tom?"    I waited for a meow or a hiss. Heck, even a swat to the face by that demon cat's claws would have been welcome at that point. However, all I got back was the sound of silence. I gulped, pressed on and continued my search.   The floor joist should have been enough of a warning about what happens when we don't look. Yet, as I continued to crawl along and get my bearings my gloved hand broke through an ice covered puddle as I approached the kitchen. I gasped in shock as the freezing water completely soaked through my glove and numbed my hand. In disgust I leaned against a pile of junk as I tore it off and started to rub them together to get some feeling back into my hand.  "Damn it," I growled, ready to give up while I felt my hand tingle from the water and intense cold. I could still hear movement further in the darkness that I was sure at the time was Old Tom though he seemed to be making his way towards me. "God Damn it Tom! I swear I'll kick your ass for this," I shouted as I got up ready to continue on when part of the pile of junk I was resting on collapsed around me. It showered me with forgotten things while I held my arms over my head to protect me when something banged against me and rolled partially out of the light.   It looked like some forgotten part of an old doll whose head had been mangled from what I could see with the light from my cell phone. Curiously I crawled over to it and picked it up to get a better look at it. It was the severed head of Old Tom.  Ice had covered parts of it. His eyes were rolled back, mouth open, tongue hung partially out of his mouth. I stared at it in incomprehension, unable to let go of the head. Fear rooting me to the spot as I felt my heart ready to break free from my chest, a scream stuck in my throat. Who knows how long I might have stayed there had I not heard the movement again.  It was closer this time. I knew whatever that was, did that to Old Tom. Whatever it was, the predatory thing it was making a line to intercept me under that house. Finally, I let loose a scream that I swear shook the floorboards above. In a blind panic I dropped my cell phone and scrambled as fast as I could away from whatever it was that was with me.    The rustling grew louder as it got closer. It crashed against the various piles of junk and rattled others as it clumsily made its way in my general direction. Whatever it was knew where I was and bore down on me in the blackness.    It was when I hit a large solid piece of foundation that wasn't part of the porch that I realized I was trapped. "Oh shit," I moaned in fear.   "Josh," screamed my sister, "Did you find Tom yet?"  "Liza," I shouted back, noticing that she was not too far away. "Liza?" I kept screaming at her, using her voice to help me through trying my best not to listen to what was behind me. Trying my best to ignore the sound of old equipment smashing around me as the thing in the crawlspace knew now exactly where I was.  "Liza!" I screamed again, as I finally saw the light of the exit after passing some old junk. The low ceiling and equipment made running hard but I pushed myself as fast as I could desperately trying to ignore the sensation of the harsh breathing right behind me mixing with the scratching sounds of a beast clawing the ground on the hunt for its prey.   "Is Tom okay," yelled Liza again, "I heard you screaming. Did he hurt you?"   My words just became a jumble of sounds, more animal than human while I tried my best to control my fears. I dared not look back, knowing that whatever it was deadly. As I got closer to the light I heard a gasp of a mouth opening as wide as it could from a beast ready to take me down and rip me open.      I felt my chest burning and my muscles ache and still I did not slow down. So lost in my panic I didn't realize I was out of the crawlspace until I fell flat on my face into the dull daylight.  "Did you see him Josh? Is he okay," asked my sister.   Without saying a word to her I jumped up and grabbed the grate moving it back to cover the crawlspace, pounding it back into place with my hand. As I glanced in I saw something quickly step further back into the shadows. I couldn't believe what I had just seen. It was a flash of yellow, wearing a bow on the back of its head with eyes like a tiger.   "I'm cold," whispered the creature to me.  "Josh," wailed Liza, "What are you doing? Josh? You're scaring me. Your..."  I don't know how long I had been just standing there staring into the crawlspace. If it hadn't been for my sister constant yelling at me I'd be dead. Whatever it was watching me hungrily in the darkness, patiently waiting for an opportunity to present itself.  "Josh," asked Liza as she tugged my sleeve, "Did you see Old Tom?"  She paused for a bit as she looked up into my face.  "Your head...you're bleeding...did Tom..."  I touched my forehead and brought my fingers down. She was right. I was bleeding. I felt the world start to spin and my knees go weak. I dropped to one and looked at her as panic tried to keep its hold on me. "I banged my head but I didn't see him," I lied.   "Well I'm going to go see if I can find him," Liza said as she started yelling for her cat again. She squatted down and started to wiggle through the hole in the grate. Somehow my head cleared just enough for me to react. I grabbed her roughly and pushed her away. Liza stumbled backwards and almost fell before she was able to catch herself. She looked at me with a mixture of anger, hurt and confusion, probably wondering what the hell had gotten in her brother.  "Stay away from the grate." I growled at her.  "But Tom," she moaned.  "I said stay away," this time much more force than I thought I could muster at that point in time. Before I passed out I saw the color in her face drain as she looked at me. For the first time I had truly scared my sister. From then on she never looked at me the same way again.  That night I spent in my room. The bump and cut on my head weren't that bad. Once I'd gotten what nerve I had back I was my old self again. Even so, I didn't tell my father, Liza and especially not Applejack about what happened under the porch.  The next day was Saturday. My dad and Applejack took Liza shopping. While they were gone I told Uncle Larry what happened down in the crawlspace. At that point in time he was the one person I knew I could trust. Dad and Liza loved Applejack too much. Meanwhile Applejack had slowly ceased paying me any mind and instead focused on them. They were her family. As far as I could tell I just lived there. "Are you sure it was Old Tom's head you found," asked Uncle Larry.  "Yes," I said, "And I'm sure that I was chased and ...."  Uncle Larry raised his hand, "I believe you found something.  It could have been Old Tom or it could have been something else that some other animal dragged in there. Maybe some rats got in and knocked some stuff around and you got scared and with that head injury you started to fill in some blanks."  I sighed, "Maybe."  "Look we'll check it out," said Uncle Larry, ``After all if it does turn out to be a sick coyote or something that's really dangerous and we need to take care of it." He then turned to Mr. Greer and looked at him, "Right?"  With Uncle Larry and Mr. Greer in tow I pulled the grate off of the porch. We squatted down and turned on our flashlights and peered under the house. "Where did you see it again," asked Uncle Larry, his stomach brushing the ground as he got on all fours with Mr. Greer and me.   "I'm not really sure," I said, "It was dark and the light wasn't too bright. I think I was underneath the kitchen but I could be wrong."    "Well," said Mr. Greer, "Let's get to it." I was happy that Mr. Greer decided not to start drinking today of all days as he brought his revolver out from his coveralls. Say what you want about his personality. He was a dead aim with a gun and I felt a lot safer with him going down there with me.    "Stay behind me," he said as he started to crawl in, "If I say run then run, do not look back, do not wait for me. Just haul ass out of here. Got it?"   "You two go ahead in, I'm going to check the other grates. Holler if you see anything." Uncle Larry said as he got up and grabbed his shotgun.  I nodded at him as I watched him start to walk around the house. When he turned the corner Mr. Greer and I started to head in. The hunt was on.   It was cold but didn't feel as bad as it did when I went in yesterday. The crawlspace was near silent. The only sounds were of the two of us as we slowly made our way further in checking everything as we went. Occasionally I would hear Uncle Larry cry to us from one of the other grates to check in on us and help get our bearings as to where we were.   The silence was almost overpowering, threatening to suffocate me as we moved onward. I could feel my heart beat faster as we navigated past the piles of old junk with barely a second glance. The flashlight he brought with him was so much better than the little light on my cellphone as it seemed to dispel my fears and made navigation so much easier. It didn't take long for us to work our way under the kitchen as I saw the puddle of ice my hand went through refrozen again.  "Jesus," muttered Mr. Greer as he shone the light on the head of Old Tom lying next to my cell phone, "You weren't lying."  I watched as he grabbed the head and picked it up to examine it more closely as he tossed me my phone. The memory from finding it and the fear of the thing underneath made me unusually giddy as I stared at it with Mr. Greer I could almost hear it talking to me.   "Keep sharp boy," the head seemed to say while I stared at it, "There are things that live in the darkest of places. They got me.  Don't let 'em get you. Be alert."   A whine of fear escaped my lips earning me a nasty look from Mr. Greer effectively shutting me up. I sighed somewhat sadly. I never liked that hissing ball of fur and spite. Even in the end I didn't truly trust him when he started acting friendly toward me. But to see him like this was truly unfair. "You deserved better Tom," I said quietly, "Even if you were a real pain, you were good to Liza. That's something."   Liza.  How was I going to break this to her? My mind wandered over it as Mr. Greer pushed forward. Slowly he shined his light across the area as he muttered to himself, searching for something. "Keep your head in the game kid," he said, "We'll take care of the cat later."    After a moment he paused and shone his light to the left then slowly panned to the right before pulling back. "Huh," he muttered, "Very strange."   "Huh," he muttered, "Strange."  "What?"  Mr. Greer sighed and directed me back to the severed head before speaking again. "Well, it could have been a coyote but, the bite doesn't seem right," he muttered. He picked up the head and turned it over, "See those marks," he talked as he turned it over and pointed, "Some of those look almost like some sort of burn. Not to mention the tearing all wrong." I watched him pull a small bag out from one of his pockets and place the head in it as he continued. "When I was a kid I saw a coyote kill one of my neighbor's cats. Tore up the body pretty good and left the head on the front lawn.  Didn't look anything like this."  "So what do you think did it?"  "I don't know," he said as he continued to stare at it, "But it's got me worried." "Hey!" shouted Uncle Larry, "Come over here. I found something."  It didn't take us long to work our way through the crawlspace following his voice as the both of us came to another opened wooden grate. It felt that we were under the living room this time with Uncle Larry's gut being the first thing I saw as my eyes adjusted to the light.  "It looks like this is where it got out," he said.  I could clearly see the skid marks on the ground where the grate was pushed outwards from the right side of it, bending the nails on the left that created an opening of a few feet for something to get out. Though I was relieved that we have proof that the thing was gone. I was worried as well. Something just didn't feel right with the whole thing.  "I got the head," said Mr. Greer holding it to Uncle Larry who took it without a word.  "I'll bury it behind my house," He said, frowning, "After that we'll come back and fix all the grates. This is..."   "Weird," chimed in Mr. Greer.  "Yeah."  "Uncle Larry," I asked, "We know how it got out but, how did it get in?"   Uncle Larry stood quietly and composed his thoughts before speaking, "I don't know. I mean we know how it got out. How it got in is another matter. The way this grate was pushed indicates how. That said though unless it kept pushing and pulling this one grate open and closed I couldn't tell you. There are no marks indicating any digging, or anything like that. I checked the other grates and they're intact. So unless it dug in from the field and tunneled..."  "Didn't see any holes like that under the house," said Mr. Greer.  "Then that leads to this," replied Uncle Larry pointing at a small print off to the side in the mud, "What do you make of that?" We looked at the small animal print but, instead of a paw with claws like we'd expected what we saw baffled us. "It's a tiny hoof print," I muttered.  What kind of hooved animal eats cats?" asked Mr. Greer.  We pondered this, staring at the small forest a ways off from the house. It didn't take a genius to know that's where the animal went, but none of us moved.  Somewhere out there was a hoofed carnivore that we'd never seen before. The implications were terrifying.  That night I sat with Liza at the table trying my best to comfort my sister after telling her about finding Old Tom. I left out the gory details and said that the cold must have got him it was a lie but I did tell her that she could visit his grave behind Uncle Larry's house if she wanted.  Liza didn't say a word. Instead she glared at me in an angry silence. She knew I was lying about not finding the body yesterday and as she glared she stuck her thumb in her mouth. In that moment something changed between us. It was as if an invisible wall had been placed between us. In her eyes I could tell that she would never again come to me with her problems or look at me as her brother. I remember biting my lip and looking away from her briefly before finally saying, "Ya gonna say something?"   Liza closed her eyes and said nothing. Mechanically she reached for the small spoon that had been left on the table from breakfast. Without uttering a word she winged it at me and missed. When her eyes opened again it was as if I were staring at a stranger. It hurt worse than the spoon would have.  "I'm sorry about Old Tom," said Applejack entering the kitchen, "While I never got a chance to really get to know your cat I know he meant so much to you. I bet he loved you and that was important."  I saw Liza shiver as Applejack gently caressed her back as she sat next to her. She didn't react to the cold touch other than to look up at Applejack, thumb in mouth, hoping for an answer.   "Thumb Liza," said Applejack as she pet the back of her hair.  It took a minute for my sister to take it out of her mouth and once she did the tears started to flow. Ignoring how cold Applejack was Liza's hands flew around our stepmom holding her tightly as she buried her face into her and cried.  "It's okay, it's okay," said Applejack gently embracing her as she continued to stroke her hair, "I'm here for ya."  "I love you Applejack. Please don't ever leave us," wept Liza.  Our stepmom was taken back by my sister's outburst. Inky tears welled up in Applejack's eyes as she held my sister close.  I watched as she held my sister and rocked her slowly.  It occurred to me as I watched them that they needed one another. I honestly don't think 'I love you' was something Applejack had ever been told in her life. Meanwhile I think that my sister had lost too much in her short life that she could no longer stand the thought of losing someone else.  "I love you too Liza. And I have no plans of leaving you," said Applejack rocking my sister back and forth the first truly genuine smile attached to her face, "Any of you. This is my home now." The two of them held each other tighter for a moment before letting go as Applejack brought something out from one of her pockets and placed it on the table.  "This was mine when I was about your age and it always made me feel better when I was down," she said, "As long as you have it I will always be with you."  It was on the table for only a couple of minutes before Liza grabbed it but I did get a good look. It was an orange pony doll with a blond mane and tail that didn't seem as old as she said. As a matter of fact it looked like it was only made just a few years ago, even with all the black marks and her eyes colored out.   Even more surprising was that I found myself not liking the thing at all. Its smile seemed to be mocking me, laughing at our grief. I saw my sister hold the toy in her hand like it was something of great value. Meanwhile I had the desire to snatch the thing out of her hands and throw it away.  Slowly I backed out of the kitchen and headed for the stairs. It wasn't my home anymore. I looked over at the two before trudging up. As I did so I could hear Applejack talk about how the toy wasn't much but if she kept it they'd never be apart.    Once upstairs I shut the door to my bedroom and locked it. I gripped the axe handle tightly and slowly began to wring it. I watched out the window, past my father's parked truck toward the distant woods. Slowly the first few flakes of snow of the year danced in the moonlight and fell to the ground.    According to the weatherman it was going to be cold outside tomorrow. I snorted in frustration. It was cold enough in here.