Revenge of the Manitou Read Online Free PDF Page B

his ear, “Was it the bad dream
again, honey? Is that what it was?”
    He nodded. “I
heard the man saying Alien again. I saw the face in the wardrobe. It was the
same man that was by the school fence.”
    “You mean the
man you dreamed about was the man you saw at school? The same man?” asked Neil.
    Toby, drowsy
and heavy-lidded, mumbled, “Yes.”
    “He had a beard
and a hat?”
    Toby said,
“Yes.” His eyes were beginning to close now, and his head was resting heavily
on Susan’s shoulder. After the emotional excitement of his nightmare, he was
seeking refuge in deep sleep. Neil said, “Toby- Toby-don’t go to sleep-” but
Susan shushed him, gently laid the boy back in his bed, and covered him with
his comforter.
    Neil looked at
Toby for a while, and then went across to the wardrobe and gingerly touched the
polished surface.
    “I don’t know
what the hell’s the matter ,” he said. “Maybe it’s some
kind of silly hysteria. Maybe Toby’s transmitting it to me. But I can tell you
something, Susan, 7 saw that face tonight. I saw that face for real.”
    “Did it look
like anyone you knew?”
    He shook his
head. “I never saw anyone like that in my whole life.”
    They switched off
Toby’s light, but they left the door ajar and the light burning in the passage
outside. Then they went downstairs to the kitchen, and Neil poured them both a
glass of red wine. It was the only liquor they had in the house.
    “I’m really
worried,” said Susan. “It seems to be getting worse. And it doesn’t seem to
sound like the usual kind of nightmare at all. I mean, he saw this man in the
daylight.”
    Neil took a
large swallow of wine, and grimaced. “If you ask me, it’s a ghost. Or a poltergeist.
    Or whatever
they call those damned mischievous spirits.”
    “You’re not
serious.”
    “I don’t know
what the hell I am. But all I know is that I walked in there and saw this old
man’s face right on top of Toby’s body. It had wrinkles around the eyes, and a
little black mustache, and those deep-lined cheeks that some old folks have. It
was so clear. If I saw the old guy again, I’d know him at once.”
    Susan sipped
her wine and sighed. “I don’t know what to say. I believe you, Neil, and I
believe Toby. But maybe it just isn’t what it seems.”
    “Then what
could it be?”
    “I don’t know.
But I think we ought to call Doctor Crowder in the morning. And
Mrs. Novato.”
    Neil sat down
at the kitchen table and took her hand. “Right now, I feel more like calling a
shrink.”
    Susan stroked
the back of his fingers, briefly touching the worn gold wedding band. “You
don’t need a psychiatrist. If you ask me, Toby’s had a recurring nightmare, and
because you love him so much, you’re kind of identifying with it. Taking the fright onto yourself, because you want to protect Toby.”
    “I don’t know.
Is there any more wine In that bottle?”
    They drained
the Pinot Noir, and then they went back to bed. It was almost dawn, five
o’clock, and Neil lay there for the rest of the night without sleeping, staring
at the ceiling. The Pacific wind began to warm, and the lace curtains stirred
themselves, casting flowery patterns across the room. Could that really be
true-that he was trying to take Toby’s nightmares onto himself? Or was there
something really inside that wardrobe, and had that old-timer’s face really
superimposed itself on Toby’s features?
    At six, he
almost fell asleep, but he jerked awake again. He went downstairs and made
himself a pot of strong black coffee, and drank it looking out over the grassy
wasteland that led to Schoolhouse Beach and the ocean.
    The next
morning, he parked the Chevy pickup outside the school gates and walked Toby up
to the classroom door. Mrs. Novato smiled when she saw him, and they shook
hands.
    “Mr. Fenner ,” said Mrs. Novato. “How are you?”
    “I’m fine,”
said Neil. “I just thought I’d come along to make sure Toby was okay.”
    Toby saw