Reindeer Games Chapter Two

At my insistence, We stopped by the garage to pick up two field packs.

Mike watched-while I picked one off the shelf.

The packs contained everything one needed to survive, in virtually any climate.

Hostile or otherwise.

Mike followed suit; grabbed one, tried to shoulder it, struggled for a second, then began adjusting the straps.

"I guess we're not going for breakfast."

He fussed with the buckles.

"Who used this thing last?"

"One of the seven dwarfs?"

I gave him a small grin." As a matter of fact. Yes."

"I think it was Grouchy."

Mike settled the pack on his shoulders, while making a final adjustment to the chest strap.

"Are we done?

" Or do you want to stop by the National Guard armory and pick up an Ackmat?"

I turned, heading for the connecting door, which led to the kitchen.

"Only if its fueled and ready to go."

As we entered the kitchen. The smell of freshly baked bread assailed our senses.

Despite the early hour, our housekeeper of 25 years, Mrs. Ellis, had been up even earlier.

And hard at work.

Mike sighed.

"I'm in heaven."

As if on cue. Mrs. Ellis turned away from the stove, placing two loaves of freshly baked bread ontop of the counter.

"Well. Good Morning boys. "

Her voice, with its trace of an Irish accent. Was teasing.

She smoothed her apron.

" Off to war or going on safari?"

"Had I known, I would have packed you a lunch."

Mike placed a finger across his lips.

"Sssh. Be vewwy, vewwy, quiet. We're hunting wabbit."

He poked me in the ribs.

"Do you want to be the wabbit. Or Elmer?"

I didn't answer.

The feeling of uneasiness had come again.

Accompanied this time. By a brief flash of the woods.

An eerie melody whistled through the trees.

Through the falling snow, off in the distance. I saw an, as of yet, unidentified image, of what appeared to be a huge, badly disfigured man.

He was accompanied by several smaller figures.

None of whom appeared to be taller then Four feet.

Whatever or whomever these people were. They moved fast.

The image faded.

I opened my eyes.

As my vision cleared, I found both Mike and Mrs. Ellis staring at me.

"Well?" Mike asked

"From the look on your face. I'm guessing this is going to be a very interesting day."

He placed his back pack on the floor, leaned the Winchester against it. And headed for the bread.

"Am I right?"

Mrs. Ellis shot him a sidelong glance.

Aisht more-on ogus kon byug-on. ( Hear much and say little)

Mike gave her a small bow.

"Liom a chloisteáil agus a obey. (I hear and obey.)

Mrs. Ellis, arms folded across her chest, turned to me.

"You are troubled?"

It was more of a statement then a question.

She tsked when I didn't answer right away.

"Talk to me little amháin." (little one)

"What is worrying you?"

I always felt drained after taking a walk in my mind.

I guess it showed.

I placed my pack and rifle on the floor, next to Mikes.

Somehow she always knew.

"I'm not sure."

Mrs. Ellis stayed quiet.

But remained standing in front of me.

"I saw something in the woods."

"What kind of something?"

Mike who was poking inside the refrigerator looked up.

"I'm with her."

"What kind of something are we talking here?"

"Animal, vegetable or mineral?"

"All." I replied

"Or none of the above."

Mike while softly whistling the theme from Twilight Zone, returned to rummaging around inside the refrigerator,

Finding the butter dish, he closed the door, and walked to the counter.

"That's what I like."

" A definite maybe."

Mrs. Ellis was giving me that:

" You're not telling me everything look."

Growing up. I never could resist that look.

Today wasn't any different.

"I'm not sure what I saw." I said finally

"I only glimpsed it for a second."

"But it was big, fugly, and had friends."

"That tears it."

Mike had cut a generous slice from the freshly baked bread. And having slavered it with butter was chewing thoughtfully.

"I'm calling Bill Moran at the Armory."

"Bill, This is Mike again."

"Forget the Ackmat. I want to borrow the Stryker."

Mrs. Ellis rested her hand lightly on my shoulder.

"Was there anything else leanbh?" (child)

"Yes, I heard music."

"What kind of music?"

"Creepy."

" It sounded like Christmas music, being played by The Phantom of the Opera."

Mike finished off his bread, then raised his hand to his ear as if he was making a call.

"Yea Bill. Forget the Stryker."

" Could I borrow a Bradley instead?"

Mrs. Ellis's face paled.

She tightened her grip on my shoulder, then switched to her native Irish.

Usted está seguro? Acerca de esta persona fugly. Puede decirme algo más? (You are sure? Can you tell me more about this Fugly person?)

I looked over her shoulder at Mike, who raised his eyebrows.

Neither of us, had ever heard her use street slang in a sentence before.

I shook my head.

"Sorry, no."

"I only saw it for a second."

She turned on her heel, than headed for her room. (which was off the kitchen.)

"Fan anseo. Ná fág roimh mé ar ais." (Stay here. Do not leave before I return.)

Her tone was severe.

It wasn't a request. It was an order.

Something was terribly wrong.

Mrs. Ellis hadn't spoken to me in that fashion, since I started shaving.

Mike walked over, handing me a slice of the bread.

"Fugly?"

I took it and tore off a piece.

He read my mind.

"Mrs. Ellis seemed worried."

I popped the bread into my mouth.

Mike was right.

Mrs. Ellis and I had been through a lot as I stumbled my way through childhood.

She was always there for me.

Like Mike. She to was aware of my unique talent.

It wasn't often, I saw her this upset.

Reindeer can't fly.

But one thing I knew was certain.

Mike and I were going to find more than deer in those woods.