Nighttime Is My Time

53

How long had it been? Laura had the sense that she was lapsing in and out of something that was more than sleep. How long had it been since The Owl was here? She wasn't sure. Last night, around the time she had sensed he would be coming back, something had happened. She'd heard sounds on the stairs, then a voice-a voice she knew.

"Donti" Then he had shouted the name she had been forbidden to even whisper.

It was Robby Brent who had shouted, and he sounded terrified.

Did The Owl hurt Robby Brent last night?

I think so, Laura decided, as she willed herself to slip once more into a world where she didn't have to remember that The Owl might come back and that one of the times he returned he would pick up the pillow, hold it over her face, press it down, and…

What had happened to Robby? Some time after she heard his voice last night, The Owl had come to her and given her something to eat. He had been angry, so angry that his voice had trembled as he told her that Robby Brent had imitated her voice.

"I had to sit through dinner wondering if somehow you had gotten to the phone, but then my common sense told me that, of course, if you had been able to reach the phone, you would have called the police, not Jean, to say that you were fine. I was suspicious of Brent,

Laura, but then that nosey kid reporter was there, and I thought maybe he was up to some trick. Robby was so stupid, Laura, so stupid. He followed me here. I left the door open, and he came in. Oh, Laura, he was so stupid."

Did I dream that? Laura wondered hazily. Did I make that up?

She heard a click. Was it the door? She squeezed her eyes shut as raw panic raced through her body.

"Wake up, Laura. Raise your head to show that you're glad I'm back. I must talk to you, and I want to feel that you care about everything I tell you." The Owl's voice became hurried, high-pitched. "Robby suspected me and tried to set a trap for me. I don't know where I let my guard down, but I took care of him. I told you that. Now Jean is getting too close to the truth, Laura, but I know what I can do to lead her astray and then ensnare her. You do want to help me, don't you?

"Don't you?" he repeated loudly.

"Yes," Laura whispered as she tried to make her voice audible through the gag.

The Owl seemed appeased. "Laura, I know you're hungry. I've brought you something to eat. But first I have to tell you about Jean's daughter, Lily, and explain to you why you have been sending Jean threatening notes about her. You do remember sending those notes, don't you, Laura?"

Jean? A daughter? Laura stared up at him.

The Owl had turned on the small flashlight and laid it on the bedside table facing her. The light was shining across her neck and penetrating the darkness immediately around her. Looking up, she could see that he was staring back down at her, motionless now. Then he raised his arms.

"I remember." She mouthed the words, trying to make them audible to him.

Slowly his arms lowered to his sides. Laura closed her eyes, weak with relief. It had almost been the end. She had not responded quickly enough.

"Laura," he whispered. "You still don't understand. I am a bird of prey. When I have been disturbed, there is only one way I know to make myself whole. Don't tempt me with your obstinacy. Now tell me what we are going to do."

Laura's throat was parched. The gag was pressing against her tongue. Beneath the numbness in her hands and feet, the throbbing was intensifying as every muscle tightened with fear. She closed her eyes, struggling to concentrate. "Jean… her daughter… I sent notes."

After she opened her eyes, the flashlight was turned off. He was no longer hovering over her. She heard the click of the door. He was gone.

From somewhere nearby she could catch the faint aroma of the coffee he had forgotten to give her.