A silly story for Squick week.
The violence of that Sunday storm took everyone by surprise.
It ripped across the North Pacific and buried itself like a soft-nosed bullet into the belly of California, tearing up trees, mobile homes, anything that the shrieking wind could get a grip on.
It churned the water off the coast like a blender, scraping silt and mud off the shallow bottom and smearing it across the shore like arterial spray. Everything stank of the ocean. Everything. Rivers burst and threw their own slick veil of mud and debris back into the churning brown waves, but the Ocean kept the upper hand. No amount of rain could wash away the slime and stench of the sea-floor.
People gagged and threw up just from the reek. Once the clouds blew apart and the sun began to warm things up, the air just got worse. Even the flies stayed away.
I got a call from Benny that Monday night. He wanted something, which was the only reason he ever called, but he was acting weird on the phone. Like he thought someone would be listening.
"Bro," he whispered, "you got to get over here."
Screw that. My place looked like it had an inch of dogshit on the roof and my car had been outside all night. I had bigger problems than my asshole brother. I told him no.
"Listen man, I got something. I'm serious. I..." he put his hand over the phone and then I could hear him coughing, a long wracking cough that ended in a heaving snort," I got something. I think it might be worth some money. You know animals bro. Come over man." Then he hung up.
I didn't give a shit about Benny but if he had some injured animal over there, I should go check it out. Benny could barely feed himself. Maybe it was an otter or sea bird blown in by that nightmare wind. I went. What choice did I have? It's my job to take care of animals.
The lights were all out at Benny's place, except for some dim glow from the back. I parked my car and gratefully got out. The sunroof had split when some lump of branch had bounced off during the night and the carpet was thick with salt water. The door didn't close properly either.
The street was real quiet, which was usual. There was fish and seaweed all over the place, just lying in the road. It was crazy.
Benny lived pretty far from town, up on a low bluff overlooking the ccean. His place would be worth something if it wasn't for the cement factory half a mile away. I pushed the front door in and made my way through the hall and kitchen. The place was a mess, of course. If it smelled worse than usual, I didn't notice. I found him on the patio, staring at the surface of the pool.
"Benny?"
He held one hand up, keeping his round, pale face pointed at the pool.
"Shhhh. Watch."
I turned to look. The pool was a mess too. Bits of wood and paper covered the brown, oily water. One plastic chair bobbed forlornly near the edge, legs like shards of bone poking out of the dark. I waited, not sure of where to look. The chair began to move, slowly turning. A moment later something broke the surface near it, just for a moment. A long, glistening, muscular back, thin and grey-brown, like the back of a wide, powerful snake. It crested and vanished again with barely a ripple.
"What is that bro?"
I coughed. "I don't know. I mean, a snake maybe? Some king of fish?"
Benny touched my arm and pointed with his chin. I looked back at the pool. The water swirled shifted again and I caught a glimpse of the same powerful form, sliding just below the surface. It must have been eight feet long and damn near a foot across.
"The storm must have brought it up. Dumped it in your pool."
Benny nodded.
"Do you think it's worth something?"
I shrugged. "To who?"
Benny glanced at me for the first time. His eyes were puffy and red, like he'd been drinking. He rubbed his forehead, like he had a headache.
"I dunno. A zoo maybe. The aquarium. Maybe it's rare. I never seen something that like before."
I wanted to laugh, like Benny was some animal expert. I wanted to, but something kept me quiet. Maybe I just didn't want it to know we were there. I shivered.
"Maybe it's rare. I've never seen anything like that, but hell I just give worm pills to dogs most of the day. What do I know? Like I said, I don't even know what it is. Some kind of deep sea fish maybe, or one of those bottom-feeding worms." Benny stared at me.
"A worm? You're shitting me."
I shook my head. "No, I'm not. There are big worms down there. Like out-sized Lampreys. Things the size of a full grown man, and all teeth. I saw it on some National Geographic special."
Benny kept looking at me, all wide eyes and perspiration.
"Are they smart?"
"Benny, it's a worm. How can it be smart?"
Benny turned to look back at the pool.
"This one's smart," he said.
"What do you mean?"
Benny ran one hand through his hair. I wanted to go back inside and get a drink, but we both kept staring at the surface of the pool. Neither of us wanted to look away. "I fell asleep before," he said, pointing behind us to a plastic sun lounger chained to the concrete deck. "I woke up and it was out the water. Like, half way towards me, and making this noise. Like it was whispering something." Now I did laugh, but even to me it sounded fake. Forced.
"Benny, worms can't talk."
Benny shook his head. "It was making this sound, like it was talking. I could see it. It's mouth was all round and full of teeth and it was sliding across the floor, whispering. I think it wants to go back to the ocean. It was saying my name, bro."
I noticed right then that Benny had his gun stuffed into the back of his pants.
"OK Benny. Let's go back to my place. You need to get some rest. The worm isn't going anywhere now, see? Come on."
I started to tug his arm towards the door, but he pulled away, glaring at me.
"No way. I'm staying. You go get some rest. If it's some kind of weird-ass talking worm, I'm keeping it."
What the hell was I supposed to say to that?
"Ben," I started out, "come on back with me and we'll get the damn thing in the morning ok? We'll get Jimmy and that other guy you know, the one with the truck, to..."
He pushed me hard in the chest, shoving me towards the door.
"No. It's mine. What the hell do you care anyway? This is mine and I'm keeping it. It's mine. Get out my house if you want to, but I'm keeping it."
When he put one hand behind his back, like he was reaching for that gun, I just nodded and turned around. Benny could get crazy sometimes and he was sounding more and more like he'd dropped some acid. Bad acid. The truth was, I was glad to get away. Benny worried me, but that worm freaked me out. Even if it didn't talk or crawl or whatever the hell Benny had said, there was something about it that made me feel sick inside, like it was sliding around my guts. My head was hurting too, a dull pounding like the sound of distant breakers, right behind my eyeballs. If it wanted to go home to the ocean, I say let it go.
I got in the car and drove home and every mile I drove I felt better and better. By the time I got home, I was feeling just kind of tired. I crawled into my house and before I knew it, I was waking up and it was 8am the next morning.
I got on the phone straight away but Benny didn't answer.
The drive over to his place seemed to take hours. Work crews were out trying to clear the roads and I had to keep waiting for them to let me by. When I got to Benny's place the first thing I saw was that the door was wide open and the porch light was on.
I knew.
He was gone. I called the cops and told them I thought he was missing.
The police came by two hours later and looked the place over, like they felt they should at least make it look like they were doing something. A bored looking older cop and some kid. They didn't seem real interested, and after quarter of an hour of poking into closets and flicking light switches they left. They told me he'd probably turn up, given enough time. Most people do, they said, just as they drove away. I left then too. I didn't look in the pool, because I didn't want to go anywhere near it.
Some jogger found his clothes the next morning, on the beach. All bloody and torn up. A trail of footprints lead back from them up to the road, maybe fifty feet from his house.
A policeman came by later that day. He kept asking if Benny liked the ocean. Did he like to swim? No. How about a kayak?
I shook my head. Benny couldn't even get into a kayak, I said. Why? The policeman just sighed.
"Probably nothing. We found his footprints, headed back from the water's edge. Looks like he was dragging something heavy with him, that's all. We figured maybe he had a boat."
I didn't say anything. He didn't have a boat. And he didn't like the water.
I knew what he was dragging with him into the ocean.
So Benny isn't coming back, and I'm moving inland.
A long, long way inland.