Chapter 1

                                                                                                                   Chapter 2


John woke at nine-thirty. He had allowed himself to sleep in this morning, and had not planned to do any work until Monday. That would give him three days off if he could manage it. He sat up in bed and yawned, scratching his head. The terror from the night before was only a memory. He still felt a little shame at the way that he had behaved the previous night, but it was nearly forgotten. He was a grown man and beyond believing in the Easter bunny and the boogeyman. He stood, moving his neck in a wide circle to release the kinks.
No interruptions today, he thought as he switched the phone's ringer to the off position. He would allow the answering machine to pick up the calls and decide if he wanted to speak with each person as they left the message. Buster stepped from his bed when he saw that John was awake and stretched his body flat to the floor, stretching as far as his four legs would allow.
"Morning Buster." John said, rubbing the dog's back mid-stretch.
Buster's tail wagged in answer to the greeting. John turned the television to the news, hoping to hear the forecast for the day.
"Sunny and beautiful," said a young meteorologist who shared the same attributes. She preceded to inform him that the weather would continue to be lovely all through the weekend.
Perfect, he had some errands to run a little later in the day, and he wanted to do a little gardening as well. The thought of gardening reminded him of the bear or whatever that had destroyed his garbage cans. Better add some more of those to the shopping list for the day. He grabbed a baggy and called for Buster.
"Want to go for a walk boy?"
Buster's tail wagged furiously and he fell into step at John's left side. They stepped over the threshold and down the porch where Buster went immediately to the trash cans and began to sniff. John moved closer as well, wanting to get a look at the lids, to see if any were still usable. His eyes momentarily moved to the spot in the trees where he'd imagined that the creature stood. Just trees of course, but still he got an eerie feeling. He grabbed one of the lids and noted with a bit of surprise that there seemed to be five claw marks punched through the lid. Did bears have five claws? He wasn't an expert, but he would call his mother. She was an artist who often sculpted and painted bears, she would know. He lifted each lid in turn, and they all contained five large puncture marks. He looked into the still full cans with a little surprise. He had expected to come out and find garbage strewn about the rocky ground where the trash cans stood, but they had not been touched. Even if the bear had not returned, why wouldn't a racoon or two, maybe even a squirrel or another bear have come for the tasty dinner.
Because they were afraid of the thing in the trees too, his mind told him.
He shook his head, no silly thoughts this morning, he was not a child anymore. He replaced the lids, mangled though they were, and took Buster for his walk. When they returned, he would go to the store and get some new cans.

"Do you have any trash cans that will keep out the bears?" John asked the young sales boy who seemed almost too young to work legally.
"Well," The boy replied in a voice that was high and cracked a little. "We have metal ones that are great for keeping out wildlife."
The boy strode down the isle and indicated the very same brand that stood mangled in his front yard. Rolling his eyes John asked about the alternative and left the store with a pair of plastic cans with tops that locked closed and a spray that was said to repel all wildlife by its faint (to humans anyhow) scent. Buster waited patiently for him in the back of the four-wheel-drive sports utility vehicle that he drove. With the cans in the back and Buster's window down just enough for him to feel that he was flying without allowing him to stick his head out the window, (John had heard that a dog could go deaf by this) they headed to the fifteen freeway. He headed north toward Victorville and the only pet store that carried the food that Buster ate. A tropical island song began to play from the cell phone that hung from a clip on his dash and he picked up the ear bud and maneuvered it into his ear.
"Mom is calling." said the robotic voice that was programed into the phone. It was a comical contrast to his voice which the phone had used to say the word ‘mom'.
"You bet." He spoke into the speaker which hung near his mouth telling the phone in his own way that he would take the call.
"Hi mom. " He continued immediately.
"Hi John, I wanted to see how your day off was going."
"Mom, it's only ten."
"I know," She said. "I just miss you. When are you coming for a visit?"
He smiled. His mother was a sweet and caring soul, but she ‘mothered' him to no end. He loved her for it though.
"This weekend, ma, I'll be up this weekend."
He turned into the parking lot of the pet store and said goodbye to his mother. Buster bounded in one long jump from the passenger seat, over the driver seat and to the ground below. Buster was amazing when it came to jumping, John had even toyed with the idea of entering him into a contest, but hadn't had the time. John loved to take Buster to the hills and watch him jump through the snow like a jackrabbit. He would bound up the steepest slope like it was flat land.
John entered the pet store and Buster darted past him, and straight to the owner who was ready with a treat.
"Hey Buster. How are you, John? How's work?"
"Everything's great."
"How was the date last weekend?"
"Very wrong for me, don't you ever set me up again."
Paul laughed, a deep belly laugh and apologized for the mistake.
"She was hot though, wasn't she?"
John smiled, "Oh yeah, nearly melted my pants off, but nothing upstairs. Sorry Paul, old man, I just like to have a little brains in my woman."
Paul shook his head and smiled as he pulled the usual bag of dog food and the treats that he always included for Buster from the shelves.
"Sometimes I just don't understand you Johnny. You just don't make sense."
Buster careened around the counter chasing a fly that buzzed through the shop. The huge doggy smile that split his face showed his pleasure at having found such an amusing toy. John stuffed a five into the can that had a picture of a sad looking puppy on the front and ‘Help spay and neuter dogs and cats at the shelter.' and ‘I need you to take me home.' written in block letters next to the picture.
The door opened at the front of the store and a family walked inside and over to the large tanks of fish that lined the right wall. Buster came calmly to sit by John's side, looking forlornly at the fly that buzzed nearby, like a child looking at a fun playmate from whom they were restricted.
"It's ok, Buster." Paul said, giving the sad looking dog a treat.
"Well, John. I do have another single friend who may not have the body that Mona had, but she is getting her Masters in Psychology. Is that smart enough for you?"
"Didn't I just tell you not to set me up anymore?" John asked with a grin.
"Yeah, but you know Martha, she can't handle having any single friends."
His voice took on a robotic tone as he continued.
"All must join us. All must marry." His arms raised as though he were a robot in an old fifties movie and his eyes stared blankly ahead as he spoke.
John was laughing so hard that the family who had been fascinated by the puffer fish in the tank, now turned to look at the pair as if they were insane. "All right, I will take her number, but no promises. If I'm feeling masochistic enough maybe I'll use it next week."


Chapter 3