I cross Page Lane and can't help looking up again. The businesses are all behind me and I'm walking past the lovely old bungalows that make me work harder to get some sort of promotion at the bank.

I feel like I wandered into someone else's dream. Just as I finished setting up my drawer this morning, Sera unlocked the doors. No one else was out front yet, so I slid my name plate in place and closed my drawer. This young guy, all skinny and nervous, walked right up, pointed a gun at my head and tried to tell me to give him money, I imagine, but he was too scared and all that came out were some funny squeaking noises. He then settled on waving his gun at me wildly, and leaned over the counter to grab at the drawer. I guess I was more frightened than he was, because I froze in place. When I finally did move a moment later, it was involuntary. I puked coffee all over him. He gave me a royally pissed off look, and stupidly used his gun hand to try and clean himself off, giving the guard a blessedly easy way out of the situation. I'll probably end up in 'News of the Weird.' "Girl With Nervous Stomach Saves Day!"

It wasn't until he was gone that I realized I'd come close to an early and violent death and I just plain flipped out. Cried, screamed, said unflattering things about my job in front of my boss. I'd say I'm now motivated to make every moment count, but really I just want to go home and sleep awhile.

Down the street I see a small girl looking up into a full oak tree. As I get closer, I can hear her calling. "Sugar," she says over and over, "come down, please, please come down." No one is around to help her.

"Do you live here?" I ask her quietly.

"No," she says, "my cat just got out and ran up this tree."

"Are you allowed to go outside alone?" I ask, noticing that she's maybe five years old.

"My mom's taking a nap," she almost whispers. "If I don't bring the cat back before she wakes up she won't let me have it anymore. I'm supposed to be responsible for it."

I see the puffy black ball near the end of a branch about ten feet up. I find a handhold and start toward her.

"I haven't climbed a tree in a really long time," I tell the girl, "but I think I can get her for you."

I get close enough to the cat to reach toward her, and she falls out of the tree, lands on her feet, like she's supposed to, and runs behind the house.

"Stay here in case she comes back out," I yell as I run after her.

The back yard hasn't been watered in a long time. There's a low window near the far corner of the house, and for a second I forget the cat and think about what I'd do with that bedroom if it were mine. The house seems so still, I figure no one's home. I want to see if the owners have covered up the hardwood with carpet and so I look in the window. The man staring back at me on the other side of the pane, inches away, has a creepy smile on his face. I can't figure it out at first, but I'm registering that something's not right about him. When I see what it is I move, voluntarily, very quickly back to the front of the house where the girl is standing, holding her cat.

"Go back home, now, honey," I say.

The man in the bedroom wasn't a man. He was a wolf. Mostly a wolf.

He must've been getting dressed when I walked into the back yard. He was wearing jeans, and standing upright. His bare chest was narrow and furry, as were his long, thin arms. He waved at me with a human looking hand, though his face was all wolf; grey-brown, with a long snout and shiny wet black nose, lots of crowded, sharp teeth. Dangling from his left hand was a mask. It had thick grey-brown hair and deeply tanned human-looking skin.

I run toward home. I couldn't see enough of the mask to recognize who he disguises himself as, but this is a small town. What if he knows me? He definitely knows what I look like. I run faster, wishing I'd driven home and wondering if my fear is leaving him a trail to follow.
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