Scents
 

 by Michelle Wilder
 
A story of another world

 

---

I was on my way home, minding my own business, when a dog bit me.

It hurt. A lot.

The dog kept snarling and jerking and the woman holding its leash was having a hard time, even though she was easily twenty times heavier.

She looked scared, too, but I thought she was just embarrassed by all the people around us watching the dog growling and jumping. And me, trying to see if I was bleeding.

My leg had three deep little holes in it, just below the calf. The blood was dark, dark red.... I was no good with blood.

The lady at least had some help for that: a clean handkerchief and plasters. And lots of advice she gave from five feet away. Too close.

She had insurance. And the name of a doctor that she said she'd pay for - not that I'd go if I didn't absolutely have to - but she did have one. And she promised about twenty times that she'd pay, just call her, and that she'd make sure Josie never bit anyone again, who kept trying to bite me again the whole time.

As much as I didn't like Josie, I liked her owner even less. She was a Stylite.

I'd noticed the shiny double-cross on her necklace. They were fanatics who used a 'closer to God than thou' reasoning to justify anything. They were also supposedly sworn to poverty, so matching gold and silver crosses seemed more than a bit hypocritical.

I had a one for a third-grade teacher, who strapped me after he caught me reading a "heathen" comic book in class. Betty and Veronica. When my father took me to a doctor after my hand swelled up, he said I had two broken bones that had to be set before they'd heal.

I still had a fear of doctors.

So, all that, and the lady let slip that Josie'd bit other people before.

-

I limped to the station in time to catch the 5:45. It didn't matter that I missed my usual train, but my leg hurt and I resented it more with every step.

I hadn't slept well, I was tired, I was late, and I'd been bitten.

And all the way home, I watched out for other dogs.

-

I hadn't realized how tense I'd become until I actually felt my back relax as my front door locked.

Even my leg felt better.

-

But I was still anxious hours and hours later.

For a half hour or so I'd move from room to room, all around the house, stopping to examine my leg - or the bandage I'd put on it that never changed - or pick at chores, touching everything. I'd open and stare at the work I brought home... but I couldn't settle down to anything.

And then I'd completely crash, hardly able to make it to bed or the couch before I almost fell down, only to lay awake and have my mind chase itself in circles.

It felt like the same energy was messing with my brain after it left my body exhausted.

And it happened over and over...

-

At three AM, during another energetic period, and after an absolutely horrible night, I decided to beat the next crash and switched on the Marconi to listen to in bed.

I couldn't even close my eyes, but it was better watching the glow of the tubes on my bedroom ceiling than wandering around like a ghost.

I know, a radio set in my bedroom. But I mostly listened to late shows and the news, and it kept the room fairly warm when it was turned on. It got cold even on summer nights in Oregon.

Besides, I lived alone.

But anyway, at three the talk news station was the only one still on, and it was mostly about the plague.

I guess when the next Black Death seemed to be on the way, it was pretty hard to justify a lot of air time for some new Atlantic crossing record or a train derailment somewhere.

Even plague was better than I felt.

The first victims had been confirmed in some city in New Zealand and another fifty or so in Australia. New official total there: 741. Unofficially: thousands.

Even with confirmed victims, New Zealand was still sinking or chasing away boats from Australia.

Some island in the south Atlantic reported it was still free. Population: 338.

The Tsar's youngest brother was dead and some reports said it was plague. St. Petersburg said it was the Royal disease.

Doctors in Paris said they had a new lead on how to identify plague victims a few hours before it became contagious.

Countries affected, including the dark zones: 200, even.

So, basically: everywhere. Anyone.

And unless they could put a doctor in every rail car in the world, every gangway, every business and school - every day, all day - I didn't see how pointing out future victims two hours before they spread it would be any help at all.

-

I dreamt about dogs.

Dozens of dogs, sitting and standing, but not moving.

Looking at me.

I woke up shivering.

I'd slept maybe ten minutes. I turned up the radio.

-

Congress still wasn't reporting official numbers. Or any numbers at all, even though all the newspapers and radio networks were.

I remembered reading there were almost certainly victims in every state and commonwealth. They said Florida and the south-east were the worst.

The League Health Organization said they needed realistic numbers to track how the plague was spreading.

Constantinople still said the righteous would be safe, even though twelve of their archbishops and hundreds and thousands of priests had been reported dead in South America and Africa before the blackouts started. And ignoring that almost every state in the dark zones was - or had been - a theocracy.

Prussia was still maintaining its closed borders policy. It said it was too dangerous for it to allow free travel with so many countries denying the plague even existed. Without naming its neighbor, the Austrian Empire, of course.

Or us.

In the good ol' USC of A, doctors in thirty-three states and seven commonwealths had diagnosed and reported cause of death as plague. There'd been over ten thousand burials. And not a single 'official' case.

-

I listened to it because there wasn't anything else on so late. It didn't matter. There weren't any cures. Most doctors reported they couldn't even tell plague was there for certain until there was bleeding.

Most doctors also said the ones who said they ~could~ spot the plague in an examination were deluding themselves. Or lying.

-

The glow from the radio was too much like something in the dream... I couldn't remember what, but it suddenly felt that way.

I got up, even though I was even more tired than when I lay down. Maybe close to a crash again...

-

I turned the radio up so I could hear it in the kitchen. For the first time I'd been able to at least ~start~ something... filling the sink. Washing dishes usually relaxed me, but the black rectangle of the kitchen window made voices something I almost needed. I didn't have to listen.

I scratched at a tiny bump on a cup, then remembered it was a flaw in the glazing. Dip and rinse and into the drying rack.

Washing dishes or scrubbing the linoleum so I could relax was something I did pretty often. I beat each of the rugs and really cleaned the bathroom once a week, washed the windows every month and waxed the hardwood floors every two.

I knew I did a lot of things too often, but repeating things, doing them right, made me happy. Josie was a rarity. Maybe she'd been good for me, I thought.

Not just that she'd bitten me - but that she was something ~different~ that happened. That I had something to ~feel~ different about.

I finished the last cup and arranged it neatly with the others. Since the suds had gone flat anyway, I emptied out the wash water and left the cups to air dry for an hour, and then if I was still up I'd shave some more soap and do the plates and bowls...

I looked around the kitchen. I didn't want to get into cupboard cleaning....

The radio was talking East-West plague politics in my bedroom and I didn't want to go there. I could ignore what they said from the rest of the house.

My briefcase was open, on a kitchen chair.

I couldn't remember even carrying it home. I had the thought that it should still be sitting on the sidewalk, where I'd been bitten....

I looked over at the front door, suddenly sure it was unlocked.

I froze.

There was no noise. Nothing...

But I'd ~heard~.

The small, high window in the door was empty...

The front room blinds were closed. There was nothing.

But I could ~SEE~ there was something there!

Someone was there!

My breathing became the loudest thing in the house, drowning out the noise from my bedroom.... Anyone could hear it!

I could ~see~ the lock was on. The lever was over, secure. I'd even looked, before.

The base of the door had a draft, a crack, the seal worn and in need-

Someone ~was~ there! A cold wash - a splash of... something... some way I could feel... smell... the air...

... there!

I took quick, shallow breaths through my mouth and nose, both wide open, trying...

A noise! The front window!

BANG!

I hid!! My heart hammered in my chest - painful beyond belief!

Behind the kitchen wall, staring out the window... dark. Panting.

But I had to look... to see....

I inched to the corner...

BOOM!BOOM!-BOOM!!

I fell to my knees, my legs lifeless. I could feel tears running down my face...

"Jacob!"

I jerked like someone had hit me.

"Jacob! I know you can hear me! My name is Aya Maghuin and my brother Dane is with me."

She didn't yell. She spoke slowly and clearly. Like they talk to jumpers. I stared at the floor and... couldn't... feel it...

A man's voice.

"Jacob, open the door. We're not going to hurt you. You know that, Jacob. Open the door."

He hadn't shouted but I'd heard him, too. I knew they were both on the steps. Two of them.

And I was half-way across the front room before I was aware that I ~was~ going to let them in.

My panic had gone, like magic. But I was still scared, and I could hear them whispering.

A man, Dane... a woman shushing him to 'just wait'... Thieves wouldn't whisper so I could hear....

Murderers didn't shush....

The lock was a good one. It protected the whole house and was one of the reasons I'd bought the house, but it still had to be closed. And it was.

There, looking at it, locked, I still needed to touch the little lever, feel it in place. Press it ~quietly~ to 'locked,' even though it already was...

"Jacob! Just open it!"

I actually fell backwards, tripped by the small rug I put there for wet days. I caught myself, but I was ten feet back when I stopped backpedalling, hand against the wall, breathing in quick gasps.

"Jacob. We're not here to hurt you." The man. The lady was the mad one. "Well, ~I~ won't..."

There was a soft sound, like a... I couldn't tell, but between them. Physical. Then the man spoke again. A young man. He sounded young.

"Look, Jacob, I was just fooling... We have really, really important things you have to know, and right away."

I could hear him breathing. Sharp sounds, quick.

"Please, Jacob. You know I'm telling the truth. I wouldn't lie to you..."

And I did know. I knew they wouldn't hurt me.

I knew he wouldn't lie to me.

-

It was still the bravest thing I'd ever done, opening that lock. Letting them in.

I opened the lock, opened my house, stepped back... and let in two strangers.

In the night. Morning. Dark.

I stepped back and they stepped in. Where my little rug had been. The man shut the door. Locked it.

The lady put out her hand and smiled. Like we were doing something normal.

"Thank you, Jacob. I'm Aya Maghuin and this is my brother, Dane."

She said their name like 'Ma-kwin.' Like introducing herself to strangers was something she did.

Except her voice felt like the most... personal... contact I'd had in weeks. I thought that... even though I worked with dozens of people.

I finally looked up.

She was shorter than me and had dark brown hair, but without any styling like most women had. Just loose.

Her eyes were brown and large. I found myself staring at them, and then looking down when she did something... something else.

She had on a loose shirt, some kind with no buttons, and a loose skirt. And no shoes. Bare feet. Startled, I looked up again, and couldn't.

I found myself looking at the man, Dane....

I don't know, but my mouth probably fell open.

Dane was... well, he was... beautiful!

He had eyes... they were brown, like his sister's, and shiny... and he was a bit taller, maybe skinnier... and he had a ~dazzling~ smile.

His... he... he had dimples and... cheeks... and a tan and some freckles... and his... eyes...

He was the most beautiful ~anyone~ that I'd ever seen.

He put his hand out. And smiled even wider.

"Hi, Jacob. I'm Dane."

Then he reached down and took my hand and shook it, all by himself, because I wasn't. Couldn't.

But when he started to release me, I suddenly found myself holding on. Staring into his eyes and holding on... with both hands.

"Dane..."

He just smiled even bigger and said, "Yup. Dane. Great like the dog."

I thought maybe Aya laughed, too. I didn't care. Dane's smile was different when he was laughing... but it was still perfect.

He was just ~so~ beautiful!

Then he reached up and touched my face. With his fingers.

Wiped away some tears.

He was so ~beautiful~...

-

"Jacob."

Aya was in my easy chair. My reading chair. Dane was beside me.

"Jacob, listen to me. It's important."

I listened to her, vaguely annoyed. "What?"

"Listen!"

I didn't let go of Dane's hand, but I did sit up. Way more than ~vaguely ~ annoyed.

~She~ was annoyed, too, and I thought it might be at Dane... but she looked at me, then, and I got a different sort of frown.

"Look, Jacob. We have to tell you some things that are ~vitally~ important to you." She looked at me listening to her and then nodded. "So please pay attention?"

Dane was too. Paying attention. He pressed my hand. His sister looked at the both of us. At me. I listened because Dane was.

"Jacob. A... a dog bit you- "

"What?!" I couldn't believe they'd come about Josie!

"Please listen! In Harmony Park, six weeks ago. On Sunday, August 22nd. A dog bit you. Remember?"

I didn't know why, but I clutched harder at Dane's hand with both of mine and pulled it up. Not Josie. The park...

It was her dog!

"It was just an accident... it wasn't a bite... and I wasn't hurt! I didn't even try to find the owner..."

Aya looked unhappy. I held on even tighter. I felt like somehow I'd gotten Dane in trouble!

"I know. He was running and you were there." She made a tiny frown at Dane but he didn't seem to be in trouble... maybe. However he could be...

"Did his teeth bruise or cut you?"

I nodded. No. Yes. But it wasn't his fault...

A huge dog had come out of the bushes just a foot away and knocked me down. It almost fell down too, and then it sat and stared at me with big, brown, sad eyes. After maybe a few seconds it stretched closer and sniffed at me. Then it looked right in my face a second, yipped, and ran back into the bushes.

For some reason I hadn't been frightened, even though it was so big. It'd looked more shaken than I was. I even felt guilty.

It was weird, but mostly because I hadn't been afraid. I had a few red marks, and I rubbed off a tiny roll of skin, a sting. That was all.

"That was Dane."

He squeezed an apology. "Sorry."

What? Dane's dog? I tried to understand, because I knew she meant... Dane.

Himself.

But it was a dog. The same as... Josie. A big, leggy dog.

"Jacob. We didn't know you were bitten. He didn't smell any blood and if he had we would've come a lot earlier. We only found out because Dane had a dream about you, and we paid for a search..."

"How..." I didn't know what. How...

What they meant. It was all crazy talk.

But I could tell they weren't lying. And Dane was sorry. He put his other hand on mine, too.

"Jacob. Look at me." Aya.

I looked up at her. She was even more serious.

"We're Waere."

Waere?

"Jacob. Jacob! Do you understand? You were bitten, and it's really close!"

Waere... wolf...

"Jacob! Listen: you're going to change. Soon!"

Dane.

His eyes...

His beautiful, sad, brown... eyes...

-

End of Part One