The Sentry of Willow Woods
A subdivision lives under the watchful eyes of a reclusive homeowner.
Carl Weber stood inside his home, facing the front door. He adjusted his vampire costume, primped the collar and smoothed out the cape, like he was about to attend a job interview after having been retired for sixteen years. In whispers he practiced greeting Halloween trick-or-treaters and their parents. He made a mental note of the names and faces of the neighbors, who often waved from a cool distance while walking or mowing their lawns.
In an orange plastic bowl on an end table by the door there was a heap of mini candy bars and assorted sweets. Next to the bowl was a single, full size candy bar. Carl double-checked his emergency supply, which was nearby in grocery bags. Better to have too much. Leftovers were donated to charity.
The doorbell rang for the first time that evening. Carl steadied himself, counted to five, took a deep breath and then opened the door. The Sutter twins stood in matching clown costumes with their mother behind them.
“Trick or treat!” the boys shouted.
“Oh, my, look at you two. This is getting harder every year,” Carl said. “Maybe you can give me a hint.”
“No!” the boys shouted.
Their mother smiled. This had been the game. If Carl could guess the names of the twins correctly, then they would give him some of their candy. If he couldn’t, then he would give them candy. He knew, but led them to believe otherwise.
“Let’s see, you’re Jonathon, and you’re Justin,” Carl said.
The boys laughed and held out their pillowcases.
“One of these days, I’ll get it right, and you’re going to owe me a lot of candy.”
As he grabbed the candy bars, he engaged their mother in conversation, making sure to mention her by name.
“Laura, I meant to tell you at the grocery store that I’ve got another grandkid on the way. Teresa is pregnant,” Carl said.
“That’s wonderful, Mr. Weber, I’m so happy for you,” Laura said. “I hope we get to meet them if they visit.”
“I wish they would visit. You know how it is, though, between the kids and a career. For now, grandpa has to make do with going to see them.”
“Alright boys, let’s get some more candy,” Laura said, waving goodbye.
The first dance was over. He lied about having a daughter, grandkids and being a widow, and she refused to call him Carl. It was always Mr. Weber. It didn’t matter how long he lived in Willow Woods.
The process continued throughout the night. Nobody asked about his personal life, for which he was thankful. He would offer tidbits, careful not to contradict previous interactions. A couple of men called him by his first name. The pastor from down the street extended another invitation to church. Carl politely declined as an agnostic. A carefully constructed facade was maintained.
When Anthony Rossi, who lived a few houses down, came to the door, Carl grabbed the full-size candy bar. Anthony lived alone with his mother, Caterina. He was a good kid who raked Carl’s leaves during the fall, shoveled snow in the winter and mowed Carl’s lawn when he was away in the summer. Anthony never expected or asked for payment. The young teen boy was desperate for a father figure. Carl made sure to keep his distance, never inviting him inside.
“Trick-or-treat, Mr. Weber,” Anthony said.
“Anthony, I wondered when I would see you, tonight. It’s getting late,” Carl said, as he started to slip the candy bar into his pillowcase.
“Oh, you can give that to Sophia,” Anthony said, nodding to the girl next to him.
He was dressed as a knight in a homemade costume. Instead of his mother trailing behind, offering a hello, a girl dressed in an elaborately jeweled store-bought princess costume lingered. Carl dropped the candy bar into her pillowcase and grabbed a larger than usual handful from the bowl for Anthony.
The girl pulled out her phone, texted and giggled, then started to walk away.
“Thanks, Mr. Weber,” Anthony whispered.
“Have a great night, son. It was good seeing you,” Carl said with a wink.
A few stragglers, mostly older kids trying to top off their pillowcases, stopped by, and then Carl shut off the porch light. The night was a success by all counts and darkness descended. The street was quiet, except for the sound of sneakers as two kids ran home, trying to beat curfew. That’s when Carl noticed a car he didn’t recognize, parked in the shadows between two streetlamps.
He took off his cape, slid into his rocking chair, turned off the floor lamp and watched from between the blinds of his bay window. The brief glint of a lighter and red glow of a cigarette were visible through the tinted windows of the car.
“You picked the wrong neighborhood,” Carl said.
He sniffed out into the living room air and detected the body odor of a middle-aged male sitting in the driver’s seat. Wafts of vanilla musk perfume coming from the back seat couldn’t hide the pheromones. She was younger, late teens, which was confirmed when she stepped out of the car.
The girl looked to her left and right, then opened an app on her phone, occasionally peeking up from her screen to see who might be coming. A purse was slung over her shoulder. She reached in to feel, took nothing out, then looked down the street and said something to the driver, who had the window cracked.
“You’re not lost,” Carl said.
Walking on the other side of the street was Anthony. The target.
The boy looked dejected, head down, the obvious sign of a forsaken love. Carl knew that Sophia was trouble the minute he set eyes on her. Now the rejection that radiated out from Anthony’s aura was going to get him into further trouble.
“Hey!” the girl said. She waved, pushed her hair behind her ears and motioned for Anthony. When he hesitated, she pursed her lips, put her hand on her hip and cocked it to one side.
“I’m not going to bite! I’m lost, and need some directions,” she said, holding up her phone to show a map.
Anthony smiled and walked over, out of the safety of the light.
When he reached the car, she turned to meet him and pressed her shoulder and hip to his while holding out the phone for him to see. Carl could sense the heat from Anthony, a nervous reaction from a boy on the verge of manhood, bathed in the presence of beauty. Taking advantage of his intoxicated state, she slowly pulled out a taser from her purse with her free hand.
A single zap was all it took.
“Quick, help me throw him in the back!” a man growled as he got out of the car. The two picked up Anthony and scooched him across the seat, then the girl slipped in as the man shut the door.
The smell of sulfur, and what sounded like gurgling noises, alerted the man that Carl was approaching. Although, it wasn’t really Carl, full of false pretenses. It was a viscous, archaic beast — a chaos of swirling tentacles propelling the creature along, with thousands of all seeing eyes adorning the skin. The mouth was open, saliva sprayed out and layers of serrated teeth were ready to make quick work of an unsuspecting meal.
The man tried to get in the front seat, but one of the tentacles slammed the door shut, while another slipped around his legs, lifted him up and dropped him down into a chomping black hole. There was no trace.
The girl opened the car door slowly and crept out with her hands in the air. She cried, then begged for her life. A few tentacles reached out and touched her cheeks. She withdrew instinctively.
“If I didn’t do what he asked, he would’ve killed me. Please, I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” she said with her eyes closed.
“Your mother, Patty, and your two sisters, Angela and Susan, miss you dearly,” Carl said. The girl opened her eyes to see the welcome face of a kindly senior citizen, with a look of pity that gave her peace.
“Take the car, drive straight home,” Carl said, reaching into his pocket. “Here is some money for gas. You woke up, the man was gone. That’s the story you tell.”
Anthony got out of the car. She got in and drove away. The boy shivered. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. Carl knew he was frightened, not just of the botched kidnapping, but of the man, or thing, standing in front of him.
“I’ll never hurt you, or your mother. Not a word to anyone, though,” Carl said. “I’m here to keep watch. There are monsters far deadlier than me, but you know that now.”
“Sophia was using me. So was this girl. Am I that gullible?” Anthony asked.
“Come on, I’ll walk you home and we’ll talk about it,” Carl said. “When we get there, let’s ask your mom about the two of you coming over to my place this week for dinner. I make a killer meatloaf.”
The sentry and his apprentice had their first lesson.
Wonderful story, Brian! I love Carl and how attentive he is to the details of the life he's crafted. And that ending! Love it!
We need a Carl Weber in every neighborhood. I look forward to a continuation to this story the possibilities are endless. Good read Brian