BEAR OF A STORM

Have you ever awoken from a sound sleep, for no reason?  Heart pumping, you lay as still as you can, listening, knowing you heard something.  But, as you lay in the dark, eyes and ears straining, you can’t hear anything but your own raspy breathing.  And if you lie there long enough, staring, you will see something!  A shirt, strewn across the dresser, takes on the shape of somebody, or something, silently, secretly watching you.  And the longer and harder you stare at the unknown shape, the more menacing it becomes.

As for me, my nemesis is my lady’s bathrobe, where she hangs it on the back of our bedroom door. Her bathrobe is long, red terrycloth, with a hood and a zipper.  I’ve lain in bed, heart pounding, unable to breathe, watching her robe, and seeing it move.

Of course, while all this scaring myself is going on, a part of my brain screams, “Come on.  It’s just Pat’s robe hanging on the door.”

But the other part of my brain is yelling back, just as loud, “It’s coming to get me!”
Now, realistically, I know its Pat’s red robe hanging from the door.  I know that.  So why do I lie there terrified, unable to do anything but breathe, and watch this thing as it creeps closer and closer to me?

Right at this point is when Pat wakes up, rolls over, and asks me what’s wrong.  I guess I make some strange sounds when I get that frightened.  Whimpers I’m not even aware of making.  And these noises wake her up.  Thank God!  I can’t even imagine what would become of me if I had to lie there, watching that robe creep closer and closer, and not have her wake up.  Forcing my eyes away from that terrible, red robe, I can finally manage to tell her I’m just having another bad dream.  Unfortunately, I have many of them.  She tells me to roll over, then she’ll scratch my back until I fall back to sleep.  God but I love that woman.  I told Pat my nightmares were the by-product of my service during Viet Nam.  The truth is, I’ve always been like this!

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Anyone in Omaha, Nebraska, last June 4th, should remember the terrible thunderstorms we had all day, and most of that night.  The tornado watches, then warnings, the sirens going on and off during the day.  Then around 7:00 pm, half the city lost power, including us.  We had to use our portable radio to listen to the weather announcements.  Several tornadoes were passing over the city, in an unusual regularity, and although no tornadoes were reported on the ground, there could be at any time, so everyone was advised to take shelter.

For three hours Pat and I sat on boxes in our wet basement, playing cards by candlelight, listening to the radio announcements about downed trees and power lines all over the city.  Even with the tornadoes passing overhead, the power line crews were out in that mess.  I felt sorry for those guys.  Finally, the All Clear announcement came at 10:03 pm. 

By candlelight, we climbed upstairs and into the front room, peering out the picture window at a darkened city, drowning in drenching rain.  Proceeding into our bedroom, for much-needed sleep, as I was shutting off the portable radio, we were informed that Omaha would be subjected to severe thunderstorms all night, with the possibility of hail and torrential downpours.  It was going to be a very long night.  Pat doesn't sleep well with big storms.  I don’t sleep well at any time.  In a flurry of nervous energy, we made love several times.

The first wave of severe storms hit with a mad rush of wind that rattled the windows, and driving rain that sounded like ten thousand elves beating against the house with their tiny hammers.  The pounding was mind numbing!  Lightning streaked so bright that it looked like huge strobe lights mounted outside our bedroom window.  Deafening thunder crashed with each streak of lightning, shaking the old house.  Some rumbles of thunder were so deep, that even our queen-sized bed vibrated with the concussions.  Between the rumbles of thunder and driving rain, we could hear crashing and tearing coming from outside.  It sounded like the end of days.

Sometime later, Pat, exhausted finally fell asleep.  She was laying half across me, her head buried in my neck.  Before long, she was softly snoring.  Pat is one of those people who can snore, even when lying face down.  I held her closely, listening to the crack and crash of the thunder, watching the flickers of lightning behind my closed eyelids.  After an hour of enduring the onslaught of that massive storm, my senses became immune to the crashing and rumbling, and I finally fell into a fitful sleep.

Sometime later, a sound? . . . a presence? . . . woke me up.  Lying in my favorite position on my left side, I slowly opened my eyes, staring into the blackness toward the bedroom door.  During a strobe flash from a bolt of lightning, I saw Pat’s long, red robe hanging from the hook on the door.  When the darkness returned, the robe seemed to undulate, as if alive, a sinister thing moving under its own power.

I sternly told myself, No way!  Not tonight! , firmly closing my eyes.  I was too tired to care about Pat’s possessed robe anymore.  But I still couldn't go back to sleep.  Have you ever been so tired, you just can’t fall asleep?

So I lay in my comfortable position, trying to lull myself back to sleep.  The muted cracks of thunder were echoing from farther away.  Even the streaks of lightning weren't as bright.  I figured that monster storm had to be over in Iowa by now, ten or fifteen miles away.  Now, maybe, I could finally fall asleep.

Letting my mind wander, I told myself that starting tomorrow, the robe would no longer be hanging from the back of the bedroom door.  The evil robe would be on the floor, or a dresser, anywhere, so long as I couldn't see it during the night.  I opened my eyes to confront the sinister robe, planning on telling my nemesis the good news, when there was another soft flash of lightning.  I found myself staring into a pair of large, round, dark eyes, not two feet from my face!  I quickly slammed my eyes closed, aware of how the light plays tricks with your eyes and mind.  And with my imagination, I resolved myself not to reopen them again. 

Then I felt a gentle touch.  A soft, warm fuzzy touch to my cheek.  My eyes popped open of their own accord.  Just in time to see a short, chubby arm move downward.  My heart was galloping around in my chest, and I couldn't breathe.  The room lit with another bolt of lightning, and I saw what I was staring wide-eyed at very clearly.  My heart came to a thumping stop.

No one believes me, but I did see it, and I swear it looked like a Teddy Bear!  The Bear was three and a half feet high, with the same stuffed look and the same nose and mouth.  I’ve seen Teddy Bears all my life.  But there were no button eyes on this Teddy.  No.  The two eyes were large, round, dark balls, which reflected the light like glass.  The eyes were so dark I couldn't tell if they had pupils.

Usually, I like to think of myself as a reasonably sane, ordinary guy.  That’s me.  So, what does an ordinary, sane guy do when confronted with red, terrycloth robes that become Darth Vader with fangs and glowing eyes, or a big, live Teddy Bear in the night?  He tightly shuts his eyes, pretending that it’s not there.  Simple.  Nothing to it.

Lying in bed with tightly squeezed eyes, I listened to the pounding of my heart and the ragged sound of my breathing.  I also heard muted thunder in the distance, with faint flashes of light through my closed eyelids.  Then I heard a soft rustling sound.  Shoes, scuffing on carpet?  Curiosity getting the better of me, I reluctantly opened my eyes and saw the bedroom door softly closing, Pat’s red robe gently swaying from the movement of the door.

I don’t know where my nerve came from, but I carefully slid out of bed, donning that sinister, red robe and grabbed the six-volt lantern from my bedside table.  I crept out the bedroom door, the light searching ahead of me in the darkness.  There was nothing in the dining room that I could find, so soon I was following the light into the kitchen, then into the bathroom.  Nothing in the bathroom either.  When I had passed the closed basement door, I had not been compelled to go down there to search.  I was amazed that my nerve had brought me this far!

Since I was already in the bathroom, I set the big lantern on the sink, shining at the ceiling, and used the toilet.  I kept telling myself, I was overworked, and tired.  That I’d been working too hard.  I’m a hack-writer that grinds out prose for greeting card companies.  Not the big ones.  I’m not good enough for them.  And I make pretty fair money editing and revising science-fiction stories for the local high schools budding new writers. 

I’d always thought there wasn't anything hazardous about my profession.  But maybe there was.  Because of my vivid and out-of-control imagination, I was starting to hallucinate.  Everyone knows hallucinations can be the start of a mental breakdown.  So, if I didn't want to end up in a padded room, I’d better get myself under control, and quickly.  I flushed the toilet, taking the lantern out into the kitchen . . . and almost had a heart attack!

As I was stepping past the stove, with a very loud Ka-snapp!, the room became awash with bright lights, as the overhead fluorescent s blazed into life, and the fridge began to hum.  The power had finally come back on, and the house came back to life.  The TV started blaring from the lit-up living room, when suddenly, with another loud Ka-snapp!, everything went black again.

During the six to ten-seconds while the power was on, I remained rooted to the spot, the lantern lying on the floor, forgotten.  The lights coming on had indeed given me a sharp scare, but nothing compared with the terror I felt as I stared at my nonexistent Teddy Bear!  It was sitting on the edge of the counter, by the sink.  The lantern lay on the floor, shining at the white fridge, and doing a passable job of illuminating the whole room.  It’s a small kitchen anyway.  I was paralyzed in mortal fear for my sanity, as my hallucination slowly and gently drifted down to the floor, went to the back door, opened it, and went outside!

I stood in shock for an indeterminate time, it could have been a minute or a month, but when I was able, I grabbed the light and flashed it around outside.  There was nothing outside, but a soft drizzle.  Watching the falling, soft drizzle, and the occasional far-off flickers of lightning, I was again convinced that I had been hallucinating.  Being rational, I tried to analyze what I had experienced, but quickly realized that was impossible.  My hallucinations didn't make any sense.  Why harmless little Teddy Bears?  With my imagination, I would have expected something on the order of a giant Sabre Tooth Tiger, or a huge two-headed lizard with long fangs, but not, of all things, a damn Teddy Bear!

I flashed my lantern around once more, and again was frozen in shock!
Right at the edge of the house, on the sidewalk, under the soft drizzle, stood my hallucination.  My mentally-induced Teddy Bear was certainly realistic enough, as I watched water beading on the fur, dripping off on the ground!  Then the Teddy Bear turned and walked toward the street, out of my sight.

I almost broke my leg, and did twist my ankle, as I ran out the door, forgetting the three steps down to the sidewalk!  I fell hard on both knees, skinning them into bloody pulp, along with my hands, and I pitched forward into the muddy grass, and headfirst into a rose bush planted there, losing my lantern, and skinning and scraping the back of my right hand.  The lantern lay on the other side of the thorny bush.  I always hated that damn bush.  My face was scratched and bleeding, and I scratched myself up more trying to untangle myself from that damn bush.  Soon, the whole front of the sinister, red robe, near my neck, was saturated with bright blood.  I finally retrieved my lantern, and limped off, around the house. 

My Teddy Bear was standing, halfway to the street, as if waiting for me to follow him.  Was my Teddy Bear a male?  When he saw me, he turned and slowly walked toward the dark street.  The front yard and street looked eerie, then I remembered the power was off, and that’s why the streetlight in front of our house was out.  In fact, as I glanced around, I saw that all the lights in the area were out.  As far as I could see, everything was black, and the blackness made the powerful beam from the lantern seem even brighter.  I hesitantly followed my Bear.  When he arrived at the curb, he walked to the middle of the street and stopped, waiting.  On trembling legs, blood and rain trailing down my face, I stood at the back of our car, watching, keeping the light focused on him.

Hearing the clink of a gate opening across the street, I swiveled my light over there.  Another Teddy Bear, like mine, and being followed by our neighbor, Mr. Krebs.  Mr. Krebs was barefoot, in his boxer shorts and a T-shirt.  With eyes closed, he followed his Bear step-for-step like a sleepwalker.  The pair stopped in the street, next to my Bear.  They didn't seem to notice the bright light shining on them.  Or else, they didn't care.

I saw more movement off to my left, and aimed that way.  Yet another Teddy Bear, like mine, (I couldn't tell any of them apart), and behind that one walked Mrs. Dosch, another neighbor.  She was wearing a white nightgown, barefooted, with eyes closed.  Another sleepwalker?  They stopped in the street by the other three.

From my right, I heard more bare feet, slapping through the puddles.  Moving my light around, I saw coming down the street another Teddy Bear, being followed by another of our neighbors, who I only knew as Lucille.  She wore a red and brown housecoat, open in front, belt hanging and under her housecoat she was wearing a bright, yellow gown.  Her eyes were also closed.  They proceeded to the growing, silent group, standing in the soft drizzle.  So, that made four of the Teddy Bear things, and three of our neighbors.  Some hallucination!

I almost wet myself when I heard a loud CRACKLE!, along with a loud SNAP!  Then an even louder, throbbing HUMM right over my head!  I swiftly jerked my lantern upward, my eyes following. 

Right over the dark streetlight, was a huge, round, brown object.  In the lantern light, it appeared to be a giant, brown ball.  Just hanging in the air!  The loud throbbing, thrumming, hum emanated from it.  A sound like I have never heard, or since.  I not only felt the throbbing vibration in my head, but throughout my body.  My body was humming like a live wire.  Power.  Pure power.

Then I heard a sound like a puppy whining.  I don’t know how I knew, but I just knew the round ball was communicating with the Teddy Bears on the ground.  Through my frenzied mind came the impression of words.  Clearly I heard a growling voice boom out inside my head, “No.  None of these.  The other one.”

My lantern suddenly went out with a soft pop! and I stood hanging for dear life to the back of our station wagon, in the inky darkness.  Over the pounding of my racing heart, and the thrumming hum of that ball, I heard feet shuffling, then the slam of a door somewhere behind me.  I didn't turn around.  I couldn't.  I was paralyzed with terror.  But my mind registered the fact that the sound of the slamming door sounded familiar.  Again, I don’t know if it were a minute or an hour, but I heard the familiar slam of a door, the shuffling of feet, and the slap, slap of bare feet on the wet sidewalk.

With a loud KAZAKKA!, there was a blast of intensely bright light, almost like a giant flashbulb going off in the dark.  In that brief flash, I saw a minute impression of four Teddies standing around a naked, dark-haired woman, then they were gone.  Just gone!

Suddenly, my lantern flashed back on, startling me.  Looking around, all the streetlights began to flicker and glow.  I glanced back up over the streetlight in front of our house, but the huge, brown ball was gone.  I flicked my eyes back over to my three neighbors, still standing in the middle of the street, eyes closed.  The soft drizzle turned to a hard, pounding rain, and my sleepwalking neighbors began to blink, shaking their heads.

Lucille said loudly, “Wow!  That was a bear of a storm.  Kept me up all night, it did!”

Mr. Krebs went, “Humph!” turning toward his house and walked home.

Mrs. Dosch didn't say a word.  She just turned and walked off, leaving Lucille standing in the middle of the road, in the rain, alone.  I was still plastered to the back of our car, and Lucille didn’t seem aware of my presence.  She finally turned and padded away in the rain.  I ended up alone, getting soaked in the rain, searching the black sky.  If this was a dream, it was one hell of a dream!

Snapping out of my paralysis, freaking out, I ran to the house, intent on waking Pat and telling her about everything I had just witnessed.  She would calm me down, listen patiently, then convince me I wasn’t going insane.  Oh how I needed her to convince me!

As the front door slammed behind me, I stopped dead in my tracks.  The slam of the door was exactly what I had heard before, outside.  An icy hand gripped my guts, and I bolted for the bedroom, hitting the light switch.  Pat wasn’t there!  I frantically searched, from room to room, even in the basement.  I was alone in the house.  Pat was gone!

What happened next was told to me by the police psychiatrist.

Pat’s mother arrived at 6:00 am, as usual, to give Pat a ride to work, (they worked at the same building).  All the lights in the house were on and the front door was open.  So she went inside.  She found me sitting on the bed, covered in blood, staring at the floor, in her daughter’s red robe, (Pat’s mom had given her that sinister robe), and I was babbling incoherently.  She tried to talk to me, failing that, she searched for Pat.  Then in fear, she called the police.

The police said the place was a shambles, (it usually was as neither of us liked housecleaning), and there were signs of a violent struggle.  Drawers pulled out, pots and dishes strewn across the kitchen floor, etc. etc.  I can vaguely remember now, in my mad, panic search, I had pulled out clothes, then drawers, searching for Pat.  Even pulling out all the junk under the kitchen sink.  I knew she wasn’t in any of the drawers, or under the sink, but I had to keep looking for her.  She had to be somewhere in the house!

The police psychiatrist told me it was three days before I came out of my fugue, enough to answer questions.  (What the hell is a fugue?)  My first clear memory is waking up in a hospital bed, bags and tubes hanging around me, connected to long needles in my arms and hands.  And my arms and hands were strapped down to the heavy bed-rails.  All I could move was my head, and that wasn’t much.

Little by little, I learned that my story of Pat being abducted by small, brown Teddy Bears, and going away in a giant, brown, flying ball, had made me a murder suspect.  The police tell me my UFO story is impossible, as every type of radar was on that night, searching for more tornadoes.  They even checked with Offutt Air Base, just south of the city, and they confirmed they had no unusual sightings on their radars either.  Therefore, I was lying.

The police also didn’t believe my explanation of how I sustained all my injuries.  They claimed they checked the sidewalk and the hated rose bush for traces of blood, but they couldn't find any.  When I asked if maybe the rain had washed my blood away, they countered by asking me why I was out there in the middle of the night in the first place.

I also discovered that my three neighbors, out in the storm with me, didn’t remember any of it.  They claim they were safely tucked away in their beds, in their dark houses, waiting for the power to come back on.

During the investigation, they dug up our backyard, and the backyards of our closest neighbors, looking for Pat’s body.  No body was found.  So Pat’s father visited me, with two cops.  I think he wanted to kill me, but they prevented that.  He implored me to tell them where I buried his daughter’s body.  Without a body, they can’t charge me with murder.  And I know they won’t find a body.  So I’m just a suspect.  Their only suspect.

One Detective did ask me if we had a dog.  He said they found some brown hairs on the kitchen counter, and they might be canine, but definitely not human.  That’s as far as that part of their investigation went.  For them.  But not for me.  Those nonhuman hairs prove that I hadn't been hallucinating.  My Teddy Bear was real!  I’m sticking to my story as adamantly as a Born Again Christian does his religion!  But I don’t care, because they won’t let me out of here.  I mean, do you blame them?  Can’t have a guy wandering loose who sees walking Teddy Bears that kidnap naked women in the middle of the night, then takes them away in great, flying brown balls, can we?

That’s just fine with me.  I don’t want them to let me out.  I want to stay right here.  In here, when I scream, I get a shot.  Every time I babble about Teddy Bears, I get another shot.  Then I can sleep in peace.  It’s a really wonderful drug.  I haven’t had one dream since I was admitted here.

“Nurse!  Nurse!  Help!  There’s a Teddy Bear trying to get me!  Help!” 

Ahh.  Another shot.  “Good-night, Pat.  I love you.”