“No. It was just a heart attack got him.”
Tnafr the influence of the wind, the long meadow grass rippled in brown
waves.
The fields ref rolling, dirty sea. Jack debated whether to tell Travis
about what had – happened in the graveyard a short while ago. However,
describing the experience was difficult. He could outline the bare
events, recount the bizarre exchanges between himself and the
Toby-thing. But he didn’t have the words–maybe there were no
words–to adequately describe what he had felt, and feelings were the
core of it. He couldn’t convey a fraction of the essential
supernatural nature of the encounter.
To buy time, he said, “Any theories?”
“I suspect maybe a toxic substance was involved. Yeah, I know, there
aren’t exactly piles of industrial sludge scattered all around these
parts. But there are natural toxins, too, can cause dementia in
wildlife, make animals act damn near as peculiar as people. How about
you? See anything weird since you’ve been here?”
“In fact, yes.” Jack was relieved that the postures they had chosen
relative to each other made it possible to avoid meeting the
veterinarian’s eyes without causing suspicion. He told Travis about
the crow at the window that morning–and how, later, it had flown tight
circles over him and Toby while they played with the Frisbee.
“Curious,” Travis said. “It might be related, I guess. On the other
hand, there’s nothing that bizarre about its behavior, not even pecking
the glass. Crows can be damned bold. It still around here?” They
both pushed away from the Rover and stood scanning the sky. The crow
was gone.
“In this wind,” Travis said, “birds are sheltering.” He turned to
Jack.
“Anything besides the crow?” That business about toxic substances had
convinced Jack to hold off telling Travis Potter anything about the
graveyard. They were discussing two utterly different kinds of
mystery: poison versus the supernatural, toxic substances as opposed to
ghosts and demons and things that go bump in the night. The incident
on the cemetery knoll was evidence of a strictly subjective nature,
even more so than the behavior of the crow, it didn’t provide any
support to the contention that something unspeakably strange was going
on at Quartermass Ranch. Jack had no proof it had happened. Toby
clearly recalled none of it and could not corroborate his story. If
Eduardo Fernandez had seen something peculiar and withheld it from
Travis, Jack sympathized with the old man and understood. The
veterinarian was predisposed to the idea that extraordinary agents were
at work, because of the brain swelling he’d found in the autopsies of
the raccoons, but he was not likely to take seriously any talk of
spirits, possession, and eerie conversations conducted in a cemetery
with an entity from the Beyond.
Anything besides the crow? Travis had asked. Jack shook his head.
“That’s all.”
“Well, maybe whatever brought those coons down, is over with. We might
never know. Nature’s full of odd little tricks.” To avoid the vet’s
eyes, Jack pulled back his jacket sleeve, glanced at his watch. “I’ve
kept you too long if you want to finish your rounds before the snow
sets in.”
“Never had a hope of managing that,” Travis said. “But I should make
it back home before there’re any drifts the Rover can’t handle.” They
shook hands, and Jack said, “Don’t you forget, a week from tomorrow,
dinner at six. Bring a guest if you’ve got a lady friend.” Travis
grinned. “You look at this mug, it’s hard to believe, but there’s a
young lady willing to be seen with me. Name’s Janet.”
“Be pleased to meet her,” Jack said. He dragged the fifty-pound bag of
dog chow away from the Rover and stood by the driveway, watching the
vet turn around and head out.
Looking in the rearview mirror, Travis Potter waved. Jack waved after
him and watched until the Rover had disappeared around the curve and
over the low hill just before the county road.
The day was a deeper gray than it had been when the vet arrived. Iron
instead of ashes. Dungeon gray. The ever-lowering sky and the
black-green phalanxes of trees seemed as formidably restricting as
walls of concrete and stone. A bitterly cold wind, sweetened by the