Strange name for a dog if you ask me.
Bill never leaves Jen’s side. He sleeps on the bed at her feet. I watch her as she lies there sleeping. Bill lifts his head and looks straight at me. He bares his little puppy teeth, growling gutturally in my direction. I growl back. I have tried to make friends with him, but he has made it clear that he is not interested in my friendship, always growling or barking at me. He has positioned himself against me and resides as Jen’s ever-present protector. I do not begrudge him, though; he’s just doing his job. Besides, it’s not like he can bite me. He continues to watch me, giving me an occasional warning growl, as Jen sleeps the day away.
It is dark by the time Peter gets home. He comes in, showers, makes dinner, and goes to the bedroom to wake Jen up.
“Hey, babe, I made you your favorite, spaghetti, Peter style!”
She lifts her head up briefly from her pillow, then lays it down again. “I’m sorry, Peter, but I am not hungry. I feel sick to my stomach.”
“Have you been in bed all day?”
“Not all day.” She lies.
“Jen, you gotta get up. You need to snap out of this funk you are in. Look around you, babe. This place is a mess. You haven’t been working on your stuff for your exhibition. When was the last time you talked with Sarah at the gallery?”
“Peter, I know what I gotta do, and I don’t need you giving me shit about it!” she snaps back angrily.
“I’m not trying to give you shit, Jen. I’m worried about you, baby. Can’t you see that? I don’t know what’s going on, but you just haven’t been yourself. Tell me what I can do. Tell me how I can help you.”
“Well, you can start by believing me, Peter!”
“Oh, come on! Don’t start that shit again! This place is not haunted, Jen.”
“It is, Peter! I know it is! I feel it! Even now, I feel it…It’s in this room watching us! Listening to us! Bill sees it. He stares at it and growls. He is afraid to leave my side! It follows me around, watches my every move.”
“I am not going to have this discussion with you again, Jennifer!”
“No, Peter, you refuse to acknowledge it. But I know you feel it too. The way the room gets so fucking cold for no reason. I see the look on your face. Why won’t you just admit it?”
“I have nothing to admit, Jen. There is no such thing as ghosts.”
“I should have known. You think you know everything. But this time you’re wrong, Peter! There is something in this house!”
Jen is crying. Peter touches her shoulder, but she jerks it away from him and covers her head with the pillow.
“Jen, please, just get up and come eat dinner with me.”
“No! Go away, Peter. Just get the fuck out of here!”
Peter gets up and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him. I feel his anger, and it adds to my energy.
Peter sleeps on the couch. Jen lies in bed until morning with eyes open staring at the ceiling. I stroll through the halls of my home.
Peter is up before dawn. He goes upstairs to the bedroom. Jen pretends to be asleep as he comes in. He stares at her lying there and shakes his head then continues to get ready for his day. He goes to her and kisses the top of her head. She is rolled up in the blankets like a mummy. She does not respond to his kiss. Bill wags his tale and licks Peter’s face.
“You take care of your mommy today, okay boy. I love you, Jen. I hope you feel better. I hope you have a better day. I’ll be home late tonight. I have band practice at Dave’s. You should try to be there. I am sure Kim would love to see you. It will give you a good reason to get out of the house. Do you hear me, Jen?”
Jen uncovers her head and pushes the hair away from her face. Pale dark circles are visible under her eyes. “I’ll be there, Peter.”
“Great! I look forward to it.”
He smiles like a little kid who just got a big red sucker.
Jen pulls the covers back over her head. Peter pats her on the back and leaves.
She waits until the door closes and springs up out of bed. Bill jumps up and follows her nervously around the room. She goes through her drawers and closet, throwing clothes everywhere and kicking dirty laundry out of her way. She goes into the bathroom and shuts the door. I can hear her showering. Minutes later, she emerges from the bathroom, hair still wet but pulled back into her signature messy ponytail. She picks Bill up and leaves the room. I listen as the front door opens and closes. I look out the window. Jen is driving away.
* * * * *
Jennifer Gibson was on a mission. She had been living in her new home now a little over six months. She suspected that something wasn’t quite right from day one: the day the pantry door slammed so hard that the walls shook. She went over every scenario again and again in her mind, but nothing made sense. A big heavy door like that doesn’t move because of a little breeze, much less slam with the force that it did. That was just the beginning of the strange things she had encountered since moving in. The constant feeling of being watched and followed around the house. Maybe that could be dismissed as paranoia. But what about the dog? Why did he seem to see the things that she felt? Why did he stare at empty corners and growl at thin air? And the art studio—the art studio was personal. She couldn’t shake that feeling. Why would some random person want to trash her studio? Why the big black Xs just like the ones she had marked the walls and cabinets with? But above and beyond every question she could ask herself was the unshakeable feeling that she was not welcome there.
She felt a darkness in her home, a heavy, cold darkness. It was like bearing a physical weight. She couldn’t stand it. She stayed in her room to hide from it. But even there, she could feel its presence. She kept her head buried in the blankets to avoid it as much as possible. She was scared to death to even get up to pee. Her days had been reduced to hiding out in her bedroom until Peter got home. But she was so angry with Peter that when he was home, she didn’t want to see him. How could he abandon her on this? They had always believed in one another, no matter how ridiculous an idea may have been or big a dream was, no matter what everyone else had to say. They promised to take each other seriously. To respect one another. How could he just dismiss her like this? He wouldn’t even listen to the possibility that something was wrong with the house.
“Well, there is something wrong with the house. And I am going to find out what it is!” she said out loud as she drove toward the city.
Bill looked up at her, listening intently to her every word.
“You believe me don’t you, boy? Yeah, I know you do. Don’t you worry, little guy, we are going to find out what’s going on.”
Jennifer arrived at the South Los Angeles County Library at 9:00 a.m. just as the doors were being unlocked.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but we do not allow dogs in the library.”
“Oh, I am sorry. Uh, he’s a service dog in training.”
Jennifer dug through her purse, retrieving
