Remains To Be Seen
[Note--really, really bad chapter title.]
THE NEXT MORNING ANDERS WOKE UP, CHEERFUL AND REFRESHED, AND wondered just why he'd been so preoccupied yesterday. He shrugged it off with a smile and whistled while he got dressed and gathered his classwork together. Dino, still half-asleep, moaned and turned over in bed.
"Rise and shine, sleepyhead," Anders called out, tossing one of Dino's books at him. Dino covered his head with his pillow. "Time to get up."
"Not for me," Dino mumbled, his voice muffled by goosefeathers. "I sleep in for another hour."
Anders thought for a moment about that; that was true. So he just shrugged and continued whistling and lacing his shoes, ignoring Dino's feeble attempts to get him to be quiet. He finally finished all he had to do, and, scooping up his books, left the room, and his roommate, in peace.
Just outside his door he ran smack into Sidras. They both squeaked and dropped what they'd been carrying; immediately both of them bent over and started retrieving scattered books and papers.
"Sid, what're you doing here?" Anders asked, not even bothering to apologize; she had startled him, after all.
"I was wondering if you'd seen Rosie," Sid replied, snatching at her notes.
Anders stopped fishing for his papers, thoughtful. Rosie? Ah, yes, Puck's horse. He smiled. "I wouldn't know where 'she' is, Sid."
"Rosie's a he," Sid replied, as if he were the stupidest person in the world. He just smiled again. "And I haven't seen him since yesterday."
"What did you do with him then?"
"I put him through the show. Puck wanted to get in touch with nature or something. And I handed him over to the caretakers after the show to put in a stall. I checked up on him last night after everybody left and he was still there. But when I went in this morning he was gone. Nobody saw him leave or get taken or anything." She and Anders both picked up a magazine. Hers was an auto-racing magazine, his Redbook. They exchanged and stood up. "So I was wondering if maybe you or Puck took him out for an early morning ride or something." And she looked up at him hopefully.
Anders frowned and shook his head. Something was nagging at him, and it wasn't the incessant musical bars from Der Kommissar ringing in his head. "I didn't. Maybe Puck did, though?"
"Yeah. I guess so." Sid fidgeted with her books and papers, trying to straighten them out. Anders gave her a hand and she flashed a frazzled smile at him in return. Anders smiled back. "I'll have to check up with him."
"Don't bother. I was headed over there myself." It wasn't exactly the truth, but he was curious about the missing horse also, and besides, a little exercise couldn't hurt.
"Would you ask him?" A nod. "Oh, thanks a lot. I've got a crapload of work to do today, then I've got to check in at the Indygo Dragon, and then I have to run the counter at the Gen-X again. I really appreciate this."
"Don't mention it. It's not out of my way. Good luck with all that work." He nodded at her and waved as he brushed past; she attempted to wave back, but could only shake her head vigorously.
"Good luck too," she called after him as he disappeared down the hallway. "Hope you find the horse."
He found Puck just outside the Hub, obviously immersed in painting something. What it was, he couldn't tell from the distance he was at. But whatever it was, Puck seemed to be greatly irritated about it, because he kept scowling at the canvas in front of him and occasionally slapping it with his brush. Anders walked up to meet him, and peered around the edge of the canvas.
The canvas was almost completely blank except for two large dark spots in the middle. They looked like eyes.
Anders frowned and came around to Puck's side. "Divine inspiration?" he inquired.
"Nada inspiration," Puck replied, still scowling. He slapped the canvas with his brush again. It was then that Anders noticed that there were several very faint gray markings around the "eyes," which he hadn't noticed before. "I just can't get it right this time."
"Get what right?"
"The owl, damn it. I drew it yesterday and it came out fine. Nothing I try works today." Frustrated, he suddenly took the water jar and poured its muddied contents over the canvas. Anders had to step back to avoid getting splattered.
"Hey, you ruined it," he said.
"It was already ruined. I know I'm no artist but I don't see why it won't come to me again."
Anders just watched as the water smeared the two black spots, forming puddles all over the soaked canvas and dripping down to the bottom. The canvas was now completely gray, with two hollow spots staring out.
Without thinking, Anders reached over and took the brush from the now empty water jar and, dipping it lightly in some dark gray paint Puck had mixed, flicked it across the canvas.
"Hey--" Puck said.
That was as far as he got. Anders dotted the canvas twice and stepped back, and they both stood there, staring.
An alien face stared back at them from the depths of the canvas.
For a moment they said nothing. Then, finally, Puck picked up a towel and wiped off the canvas, leaving nothing but an indistinct smear of gray. Anders snapped back to life as well, and dropped the brush back in its container, turning red and lacing his hands behind his back as Puck cleaned up.
"I didn't know you were so artistically inclined," Puck commented, as if the painting they'd produced were the most normal thing in the world.
"Neither did I," Anders admitted.
"Maybe it was a one-time thing. You know, like with me."
"I'll bet that's it. Listen, Puck, Sid came to me this morning and asked me if you knew where Rosie is."
"Rosie?" Puck stopped to think. "Oh yeah, the horse. Isn't he in his stall?"
"She said she checked there this morning and he was gone."
Puck snorted. "It was probably that Jacob kid again. You see him lately?"
"To tell you the truth, I haven't."
"Then that's probably where Rosie is. Where do you think we could find Jacob, hmm?" And he gave a conspiratorial smile.
Anders swallowed. "I don't know...Al's maybe?"
"Just what I was thinking. Let's go."
Al just frowned when they told him their story.
"Jacob took your horse once," he said, "that doesn't mean he'd take it again."
Puck and Anders were standing on Al's porch; they'd knocked and he'd come to the door, some sort of magnifying device on his head, as if he'd been studying jewels. He hadn't bothered to put up the glass, so one large eye stared at them from behind it, and Anders had to force his face to remain straight.
"Maybe he needed it for something," Puck suggested. Anders looked at him with disbelief, at how stupid he could sound. As if the horse were a washcloth or something.
"He's been staying here," Al replied, and then, as if suddenly realizing they were all standing on the porch, he stepped back and ushered them in. Puck and Anders entered the cluttered room, Al shutting the door behind them and finally lifting up the magnifying glass and removing the device from his head.
"I've talked with him. I truly believe he would never kidnap your horse," he said. Anders ducked behind Puck to avoid being seen; this time he couldn't keep the smile from his face. "Kidnap"? Maybe "horsenap."
"Maybe he thought I'd let him use it or something. We talked at the Jamboree."
Al frowned again; it was the most upset Puck had ever seen him. "Well, you can ask him, but I really doubt he did it. Perhaps your horse ran away?"
"From a locked stall? I doubt it."
Al started to say something, then changed his mind and went off into the front room, the other two tagging behind. He picked up several books along the way, placing them in various spots as if that would make the place look any better. "What's the name of your horse?"
"Rosie," both of them replied in unison.
Al looked back at them and cocked an eyebrow. "'Rosie'? Now that's an unusual name for a male horse." And he turned away again, before either could ask how he knew Rosie was a male.
"Jacob?" he called out. "Jacob, there's someone here to see you." He waved down the hallway and Jacob appeared, looking a little frightened again. However, as soon as he saw Puck and Anders, it was like he was meeting two old friends, despite their earlier encounter. A broad smile spread across his face as he came out to meet them.
"I'm glad you dropped by," he said. "How are things going at the Jamboree? I'd like to go back, but, you know..." And he spread out his arms, as if that answered everything.
"I'd like to know where my horse is, please," Puck said as civilly as he could.
Jacob's smile faded, replaced by mild confusion. "Your horse? Don't you have him back?"
"He's gone," Puck replied. "He was taken last night."
"Last night?" Jacob echoed again. Puck shifted feet, anger rising up in his throat. He felt Anders place a hand on his shoulder and could tell it showed. "But I didn't take your horse. I swear I didn't! I only did that one time, and I'm sorry I did. I didn't mean it, if those guys hadn't been chasing me--"
"Then who did?" Puck exploded, causing the other three to all jump back at the same time. Jacob cowered a bit, sliding closer to Al, who held up his arm slightly as if protecting him. "Don't tell me Rosie just opened his own stall and went out for a midnight walk."
"Maybe he did," Al said suddenly. The two college students--and even Jacob--looked at him, brows furrowed.
"It's possible," Al went on. "Anything's possible. Did Rosie ever strike you as being a smart horse?"
Puck thought a moment. He didn't know. "Uh--I--"
"Well, sometimes animals do weird things. You know, I had a hamster once, and I taught it to open its cage." He looked off into the distance as if they'd all vanished from the room and he was left talking to himself. "Amazing little rodents, hamsters. I used to tape its cage shut so it couldn't escape. One night I forgot and the next morning the lid was off and it was gone." [Note--that happened to me. I had also taught that hamster to walk down steps. Never saw that hamster again. I like to hope it wandered off and formed its own little hamster utopia someplace.] He shrugged and shook his head, coming back to the present. "You see? Little hamster escaping from its own cage. Maybe a horse could do the same thing. I'll bet Mr. Ed could."
Anders gave Puck a funny look which indicated he'd very much like to waggle his finger at his temple.
"Well, I'll go back and see," Puck said, still unconvinced. "We'll look around the campus a little. If Rosie did break out he couldn't have gone far. But if we don't find him..."
He broke off, giving the two a silent threat; then he turned and left the room. Anders started after, when Al tugged his arm and, before he could say anything, pressed something into his hand.
"Here," he said, smiling cheerfully as if the argument had never occurred, "this makes for good reading." And he broke away, going back into the house with Jacob, who cast one more look over his shoulder before following.
Anders made it to the door and outside with Puck before he looked down at what Al had placed in his hand. It was a book, titled Abduction: Human Encounters With Aliens. [Note--a real book! Good reading, too!]
"How long have you known Al?"
"Not very long." Puck snorted and leaned back in his seat as Anders drove them back to the college; Anders checked the mileage and sighed. These long trips were taking their toll. He glanced down briefly at the book sitting between them on the seat, then back at the road.
"He's weird."
"Yeah, I know that."
"Has he always been that way?"
"I don't know. Damon would be the one to ask."
"Damon?'
"Yeah. Damon Barrymore. He introduced us. But everybody meets Al eventually."
"Why is he so interested in aliens?"
"I don't know. I guess it's because he's a hypnotist."
Anders felt like correcting him with "hypnotherapist," but changed his mind and decided to remain silent on that.
"Though they call it deep regression hypnotherapy," Puck said for him.
"Deep regression..." Anders tried the words on his tongue. "Why's that?"
"Because you go back into the past and remember things you wouldn't normally remember. Like traumatic experiences. Like maybe who took my horse."
Anders smiled at that and turned a corner. Puck could be quite sulky if he wanted to.
"Well, like you said, we'll go look for your horse. Together. All right?" No reply. "I bet he's off in the woods behind the college. Around where you saw that deer. Maybe they made friends. 'Hello, deerest--'"
"Oh, shut up," Puck said with disgust as Anders broke off laughing. "That's the oldest one in the book."
"Really? I thought I made it up." Anders gasped, trying to catch his breath, and pulled in the driveway of LRU. "So, you want to go look right now?"
"Of course. When else?"
Anders shrugged; he'd just asked the question to keep things going. They found the parking lot and pulled in. Anders put the car in park and turned off the engine, then stretched. "Behind the campus first," he said. "That's the nearest place to where Rosie was being kept, and so he's probably out there somewhere. Maybe at the stream."
"That's a creek."
"Whatever."
Within fifteen minutes they were out behind the college buildings, searching around in the overgrown grass in the field near the woods. Puck decided to look in the woods themselves, not only to find his missing horse, but to maybe catch another look of that deer. [Note--if I didn't type it accidentally, that should be "another look at that deer."] Anders went off further into the field; he didn't like trudging through the high grass very much, as he didn't know just what was lurking under it (he'd read books about all of the snakes and bugs and rodents to be found in tall American grass), but he wanted to know what had happened to the horse too. He scanned the field and saw nothing, but maybe the horse had bedded down for the night and was still sleeping. It was possible. With the grass being so high, he might not be able to see it. So he trudged on, glancing around carefully.
As he walked he lost track of time, the greenish-brownish-yellow of the grass, the robin's egg blue of the sky, the dark green of the trees all standing out in stark contrast to each other. So many colors. Were there any wildflowers? He started looking around for some. There, there were some little yellow ones--buttercups? He didn't know. And some purple thistly ones. And pink clover. He'd heard you could eat that. He plucked one and, pulling out the pink petals, bit onto their white roots. It tasted sweet. He tossed the remainder away as he chewed thoughtfully, skimming his eyes over the grass for any other clover. It was then that he saw it, far away, in the distance. [Note--yes, that's redundant.]
At first he stopped and blinked several times, trying to make sure it wasn't just the sun making mirages upon the grass. But there was definitely something near the edge of the woods. He put his fingers to his mouth and let out a loud whistle. Puck appeared a distance away, looking in his direction. Anders waved towards the object, and started off towards it. Puck, understanding, followed.
Anders reached the object first; it was half-buried in the grass, so he couldn't make it out until he was almost upon it. But he could smell it from several yards away.
He stopped abruptly, wincing. There was a distinct buzz of flies around the thing in the grass. His stomach turning over on itself, he forced himself to go closer, and what he saw nearly caused him to lose everything he'd eaten that day.
Puck appeared at that moment, just as Anders turned away, his hand over his mouth and his eyes squinted shut. He leaned over to look without getting too close, then relaxed and just stared at it.
Lying in the grass was Rosie--or what remained of Rosie. The thing there was still identifiable as a horse, but its ears and eyes were missing, as well as its lower jaw. They were looking at the mangled remains of the horse.
Anders made a strange muffled sound and his hand groped Puck's shoulder. Puck nodded, understanding clearly what he meant. "Yeah," he could barely force himself to whisper. "It's Rosie."
A cough. Anders tried not to look at the carcass, but couldn't help it, and turned away again. "What--what happened to him?" he croaked.
"I don't know." Puck finally found the courage to bend over and examine the horse. He placed one hand tenderly upon its shoulder, swatting the menacing flies away with the other. "Somebody cut him up bad."
"Who?" It was barely even a word; Puck realized Anders must really be struggling to not get sick.
"I don't know." He stood up and sighed as he stared down at the remains of Rosie, the horse he'd named on a whim. "I don't know." A pause. "Let's go. We'll call somebody down here to clean this up." He turned away and tromped off across the field towards the college.
Anders was left behind with the carcass; he looked after Puck as he retreated into the distance, then down at the horse again, and had to swallow. His throat was burning.
Are you the lucky one? he asked it in his head. Or do we all end up the same in the end?
He shuddered and abandoned the corpse himself before he could throw up.
He'd never felt so sick, or so bewildered, in his life.
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