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Teefr
a new classic
by
Edward Summer

Chapter Five
Under The Bed

eon rested his weight on the cold cement of the basement floor. He gazed at the small, ugly creature beside him.

"Good Sniffler, good." Speaking was painful for Reon. It required great effort. "Come."

Sniffler's wrinkled, black body shook with delight at being once again with his master. It had been many, many years since the last time. The tail straightened, curled, then straightened again like a crazed clock spring. Sniffler rubbed fondly against Reon's arm. . The creature's hide was so thick that it was unhurt by Reon's sharp spines.

It is here somewhere, Reon thought. I know it is here.

"Find it!" Reon breathed into Sniffler's ear. "Bring it to me!" Sniffler flushed with the heat of Reon's flaming breath. "Before light comes again. Go!"

Reon forced a smile. There was so little time in the night. The shadows slipped from him. Not even his sharp claws could hold them. If he had only been able to wrap shadows around them both, he and Sniffler would have won centuries ago. But nothing would make the darkness stay. "Go," Reon said again.

Sniffler backed away. He snorted once, then turned toward the basement stairs. His nostrils quivered. A delicious tingle delighted Sniffler's throat. Words were barely real to him. He understood more of sensation, of smell, taste, and sound than he did of sentences.

Sniffler's nostrils quivered again, searching the air for more scent. Sniffler ran to the stairs up the steps. His claws were so sharp they caught in the linoleum, tearing out little pieces as he climbed.

New smells ran through Sniffler's brain. He had learned thousands of smells over the centuries. Yet, each time he awoke, there were new odors to learn.

"Do not kill it yet!" Reon hissed a last command. I want to make sure where it is first, he thought. And I want to take my revenge… myself.

Sniffler turned and snorted. His wet lips curled back hungrily. Then Sniffler stepped into the back hall.

Douglas Calder put away the last of the dinner dishes. He glanced around the kitchen to make sure everything was in order, straightened a dish towel hanging from a hook above the sink, flipped off the lights, and walked into the dining room. Samantha closed her eyes.

Samantha raced over to him and began to rub against his legs with great passion. She purred so loudly and affectionately that Douglas reached down and picked her up. He stroked the soft fur of the cat's neck taking special care in the little dents just below her ears. Samantha closed her eyes and her ears relaxed. Her fear of the strange things in the basement melted away. She kneaded the soft cotton of Douglas's shirt sleeve with her claws.

"All these earth tremors got you upset?" Douglas asked her.

Not the earthquake, Samantha thought. Then she purred more loudly.

"Want to go out?"

Samantha gave a small meow that meant yes, oh yes, yes. She squeezed her claws gently into Douglas's arms. I would love to be out in the open air running like a panther! I would run far away from all those bad things!

Sniffler flowed through the shadows in the back hall. He bled into the blackness of a corner. His nose tested the air. An image swam slowly in to his mind. Glowing eyes. Whiskers. Soft feet. Cat. Cat. Sniffler knew what that was. Cat had been for a long time, through the many ages. Cat had not changed much. Sniffler knew that Cat posed no threat. Cat could be eaten in a moment before it could cry out.

Douglas Calder walked to the back door. Sniffler's mind-images shifted again. Human smell. Male. Mixed with something sweet, something pungent. Man smell was almost the same each time, but a little different. It was the clothes, the perfumes, the food they ate, the time of day, sweatiness, cleanliness. Smells changed over years, but men were the same. Stay away! Men had come after Sniffler with sticks, with fire, with guns. Every time he awoke, Sniffler was chased with a new weapon. Sniffler did not even know what the weapons were. But he could smell the fear and hate of the men that carried them. Better to hide in the darkness.

Sniffler crept around a corner into the kitchen. Dark. More dark. He waited.

Cradling Samantha in the crook of his left elbow, Douglas opened the screen door with his right hand. He poured Samantha onto the outside steps. She bounced off the pavement and raced away from the house.

Panther time! Samantha was delighted. She had watched the wild animals on television with Tony and knew just what panthers did. I will feel the jungle winds in my whiskers. I will stalk the leaping wildebeests, she thought. Well, crickets or grasshoppers, perhaps. And she disappeared into the evening shadows, green eyes blazing with relief.

Douglas Calder felt uneasy. He felt as though he was being watched and that whatever was watching was right behind him. But when he turned, there was nothing there. It was as frustrating as trying to see the back of his head in a mirror.

He locked the back door with a loud click.

Sniffler made his way across the kitchen floor. He did not like flatness of the linoleum and dug his claws into it for spite. He slipped through a doorway into the dining room. Here there was carpeting. It felt better under his feet.

The house was very dark. Two table lamps poked a bit of warm light into the shadowy living room. A small streak of light spilled from the doorway of Douglas's study, and a few other small patches of light bounced down the staircase from the upstairs bedrooms.

There was just enough blackness to protect Sniffler. He needed shadow as roses need sun. He shunned the light. Sniffler crept into the living room.

As he moved, Sniffler was as elusive as that shadow just behind you. Shadow slips away if you try to hold it. It vanishes with the return of light. It hides under things where nothing can fit. Sniffler and shadow were one.

Douglas snapped off the lights. Douglas Calder snapped off the lights in the living room. He reached around the doorjamb of his study and turned that light off, too. He caught a glimpse of the piles of research materials on his desk. So much to do! he thought. History piles up faster than dust under a bed. It multiplies more rapidly than I can learn about it.

Now he was Tony's father again, no longer a historian. Relieved of one responsibility, Douglas yawned and trudged upstairs.

The Sniffler peered out from beneath an overstuffed chair. His beady red eyes could see better now that it was totally dark, and his nose could tell that the man was gone.

Sniffler slinked toward the stairs, more catlike than a cat. Up one step, then another. Peering over each to make sure that he wasn't seen. Finally he reached the top of the staircase. Light! There is light here! He dropped back below the top step.

A door slammed. Douglas Calder was in his bedroom.

The light was gone.

Sniffler's nostrils flared with excitement. The scent that he was searching for was here! In his mind, an image of eyes began to form. Large liquid eyes stared at him from a black void. It had been so long since he had looked into those eyes, that the image was still unclear. The scent itself came to him from a swirling memory of time-softened smells. But it was fresh here! It cut sharply through the years.

He followed the smell down the hallway. His mouth began to salivate again with expectation. His teeth itched wit the desire to clamp shut on living, squirming softness.

A doorway. New scents. Man scent strong. Woman scent. And the special scent. The scent he searched for. Swirling. Night air stirred them all together. So many, many scents. Once the world was made of wood and metal and stone, but the years brought new odors to confuse him. Here there was much confusion.

Breathing. Sleep sounds. No movement. Safety! Sniffler entered Tony's bedroom.

"BONZAI!!!" Tony yelled at the top of his lungs.

He hurled a pillow from the top bunk toward Ginger's bed.

Half asleep, Ginger still managed to shield herself. The pillow slid off her upraised arm and fell to the floor six inches in front of Sniffler's nose.

White thing! thought Sniffler.What is it?Feather smell. Fat bird? No! Hide! Hide! If I stop to eat, they will find me!

Like a magnet, Sniffler drew himself to the darkest shadows in the room. Sniffler slipped under Ginger's bed.

Ginger raised her pillow overhead and flung it at Tony. It fell limply onto Tony's stomach. Tony snatched it, leaned over the edge of the bunk, and slammed Fred in the face with the pillow.

Fred gave a muffled cry of distress.

"Let's get her!" Tony called to Fred as they both crawled out of bed carrying pillows.

The two boys flanked Ginger and pummeled her with their feather pillows. She squealed with glee.

"Stop! Stop!" Then she laughed even harder. Fred was not much of a threat. He barely stood as high as the bed, and his pillow was bigger than he was. Tony, however, was hitting her enough to make up for Fred's lack of effectiveness. Ginger braced both hands in front of her, trying to grab the pillow and pull it away from Tony.

"Time to go to sleep, guys," Tony's father said from the doorway. Time to go to sleep, Tony's father said.

Tony let go of the pillow and Ginger fell backward onto the bed still giggling.

"Awwwwwwwwwww." Tony was much too excited to stop.

"Just quiet down, now." Douglas picked up Ginger's pillow and handed it back to her. Ginger placed it back on top of her stuffed gray donkey, hiding it completely from view, and began to settle back down to sleep.

Tony crawled up onto the top bunk while Fred struggled to get himself and his pillow back into the lower one. At the last moment, Douglas lifted Fred and tucked him in. Fred straightened Teddy on the pillow, carefully covering the bear's tummy so that only a head and two fuzzy arms stuck out above the blankets.

Douglas kissed Tony goodnight.

"Go to sleep, now."

"Good night, Dad," Tony said resignedly.

"Good night, Uncle Douglas," Ginger said. He was not her real uncle, but it was nicer than saying Mr. Calder.

"Say goodnight, Teddy," Fred urged, nodding the bear's head.

"Goodnight, Teddy," Douglas said, patting the bear on the ears, "and you, too, Fred. Sleep well."

"G'night," Fred answered sleepily.

Douglas walked quietly out of the room, down the hall to his bedroom and closed the door.

Fred rolled over onto his side toward Ginger.

"G'night, Ginger." Fred's eyelids were very heavy.

"Night, Fred,"

"Night, Teddy," Fred went on.