5. Wednesday, September 6, 2023 #2
“There’s a dead raccoon in the pool,” she says matter-of-factly, forgoing a morning greeting to get right to the point. “It’s bled out pretty bad, so the pool will have to be cleaned.”
Quinn moves to the kitchen window. He can just barely make out a dark lump floating on the surface of the pool.
His dad passes by with the pool net and Quinn watches as he dips it in, skims it across the surface of the water, and scoops up the raccoon.
He strains to lift the waterlogged carcass out of the water and onto the flagstone around the pool.
“Are you kidding?” his mother says. “That’s the second dead animal this morning.”
“Would I kid about something like that?” his nana snaps back. “And it’s actually the third. Geoff told me he found a dead skunk by his writing studio. A skinned and disemboweled one, at that.”
His mom drops the knife she’s using, abandoning the sandwich to go out the back door.
Quinn follows right behind. They both arrive next to his dad, who’s standing there looking down at the dead raccoon.
His mom gasps and Quinn leans in for a better look.
The raccoon’s face is missing. Or, more specifically, its eyes, nose, and mouth have been carved out, leaving only cavernous holes.
The body has liquid seeping out of every orifice—blood and pool water creating a pink puddle all around the animal on the gray stones.
“Jesus Christ,” his mom says under her breath. “What on earth could have done that?”
His dad slowly shakes his head. “No idea.”
His mom grabs hold of his dad’s arm and gives him a little shake, as though she’s trying to wake him up. “Mom said you found a disemboweled skunk by your writing studio? Why didn’t you say something in Polly’s room?”
He looks up from the raccoon and Quinn sees a sadness in his eyes that makes his stomach hurt. “I thought it was just a weird coincidence.” He looks back down at the dead animal at his feet. “Until Beverley told me about the raccoon.”
As though saying her name summons her, his nana steps out the back door. Panda escapes along with her and runs over to sniff the dead raccoon. His mom aggressively shoos her away.
“Aren’t you going to bury it?” his nana asks impatiently. “Leave it there much longer and it will attract vermin and God knows what else.”
Panda barks from the other side of the lawn and then starts pawing at something in the grass.
Skirting in circles around whatever she’s found, pawing, barking, sniffing.
Quinn leaves his mom and dad to see what his dog is going on about.
Only a few feet away he hears his mom ask his dad, “Do you think a person did this? Because of. Well, you know. The history of the place?”
“I doubt it,” his dad says flatly.
With Quinn’s approach, Panda grows even more excited, practically spinning in circles around whatever she’s got.
“Fuck.” The word shoots out of him as soon as he sees it.
A ball of brownish-gray fur, not moving, the grass around it darkened with blood.
“Another one!” he calls out, and his parents both come running.
It’s hard to tell what the thing is, so his dad goes and gets a stick to turn it over.
His nana gets in there too, leaning over to study the furry lump in the grass.
His dad pokes it a few times before he’s able to get it on its back and see the face of the thing.
A rabbit, front and hind paws missing, along with the ears.
“Okay, Geoff,” his mother says, sounding frantic. “That’s four. Four dead animals on our lawn in one morning.” She turns in circles looking at the woods. “I mean, is that normal when you live in the woods?”
His dad puts a hand on his mom’s shoulder and starts to lead her back toward the house. Quinn and his nana automatically follow.
“Some animal went on a hunting spree last night,” his dad says. “We’ll just keep an eye on Panda when we let her out for the next little while.” He rubs her back, which makes Quinn feel better too. “If it happens again, we’ll get in touch with Animal Control.”
“Okay,” his mom says, sounding skeptical, her eyes still darting all over the place, as though something is about to charge out of the woods at them.
“I’ll clean it all up,” his dad adds as they skirt around the pool to avoid the raccoon. “You need to get to work.”
“Shit. I’m so late.” His mom moves faster toward the back door. “And you’re really late, Quinn. I’ll write you a note, but you’ll have to finish making your own lunch.”
Polly opens the back door just as his mom is about to go through it. “Why’s everyone out here?” she asks, looking past their mom to the yard. “What the hell is that?” she says, and he hears his nana huff loudly behind him.
His mom moves her to the side to squeeze through the door. “Your brother will explain on the way to school.”
“Geoff,” his nana calls out as she heads toward her cabin. “Let me know when everything is cleaned up. I’d like to sit by the pool and read. It’s supposed to be hot today. A true Indian summer.”
Quinn’s dad lifts a hand and gives her a thumbs-up as he retrieves a shovel that’s leaning against the side of his writing studio.
“You can’t call it that anymore, Nana,” Polly calls out, still standing in the back door. “It’s not politically correct.”
His nana turns back. “And when, my dear, have I ever cared about being politically correct?” She swoops her hand up in the air dramatically and laughs before disappearing into her cabin. Polly rolls her eyes and slams the back door.
His dad looks over at Quinn and shakes his head. “What a piece of work.”
Alice
She hasn’t stopped thinking about those dead animals all day.
In between meetings she googled every variation she could think of to try to identify an animal that systematically dismembers other animals.
Her only search result: ritualistic sacrifices by human beings.
The whole thing makes her wonder if she made the wrong decision, moving her family to a house in the woods.
She texted Geoff twice, suggesting that he get in touch with Animal Control now, rather than waiting for it to happen again.
He gave a thumbs-up emoji the first time and didn’t respond the second.
So, on her way home from work she bought a trail cam.
The kind that connects to your phone if it’s in the vicinity of Wi-Fi. She needs to know what’s out there.
She thought installing it would be easy, but the ladder keeps slipping across the tree bark and she can’t reach far enough to get the straps of it all the way around the trunk. Her arms have scratches all over them and her T-shirt and leggings are now filthy and drenched with sweat.
“Why don’t you put it on a smaller tree?
” She didn’t notice Quinn arrive, and it startles her.
Losing her grip on the tree, the ladder starts sliding to one side and she has to leap off so she doesn’t go down with it.
She lands hard on her butt in the dirt, pain already settling into her tailbone, but she holds up the camera triumphantly in one hand.
“Sorry,” Quinn says. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He holds out a hand to help her up.
She gratefully takes it. “It’s okay.”
“Why didn’t you ask Dad for help?” He glances toward Geoff’s writing studio.
“He was asleep in there when I got home.” Her answer causes a flash of worry to cross Quinn’s face.
Alice knows it’s because he’s afraid that his dad napping in the day will be a strike against him.
That it might cause a fight later tonight.
It makes her feel like shit. She forgets sometimes how much her kids notice about the dynamic between her and Geoff.
How highly tuned their radar is for discord between their parents.
“I thought I’d let him sleep. He’s probably exhausted after cleaning up all those dead animals.
” Alice doesn’t think that at all, but she wants to dispel Quinn’s worry.
She knows that Geoff is exhausted because he drank too much last night and slept on the couch in his writing studio.
That’s the strike against him and it will probably come up at some point, but she’ll make sure Quinn’s not around for it.
“I can hold the ladder if you want.” His offer surprises Alice. She’d expected the miserable-tyrant version of her son to come home from another day at school. “I think you should try that tree though. It’s not as wide but just as close to the tree line so it should pick up the Wi-Fi.”
“You’re so smart,” she says, patting him on the back. They pick up the ladder together and reposition it. Then she climbs up. “How was school today?” she asks, once she’s at a safe distance.
“Pretty good,” he answers, and the tightness in her chest eases. “I made a friend. We were lab partners in science and then he was on the same bus, so we sat together.”
“That’s amazing,” Alice says, then reminds herself to temper the enthusiasm. It could scare him away if she’s not careful. “What’s his name?”
“Jason. He lives up the street.”
Alice has no trouble at all wrapping the strap around this tree to secure the camera. Back down on the ground she squeezes Quinn’s arm, even though what she wants to do is pull him in for a hug. “That’s great, sweetie. I’m really happy for you. I knew you’d make friends here.”
“Yeah, thanks,” he says, shifting his arm away to pull the ladder off the tree. “I might go hang out with him tonight if that’s okay?”
She wants to ask if he has any homework, but she presses her lips together to keep the words in. Reminding herself that his adjustment to the move is more important than grades right now. “Of course you can hang out with him,” she says.
“What are you guys doing?” Polly asks on her way across the lawn, a half-eaten apple in her hand.
“We set up a trail cam to catch the predator,” Quinn answers.