GOOD GAME

by Gerry Sammon

‘She’s so cute. Can I keep her, dad?’ Ellie stroked and hugged the furball, instantly in love with the teddy bear features of the charming creature.

‘What the heck is it, Ellie?’ said her dad, Doug Fielding. Doug was a veterinary surgeon and was inspecting the squirming bundle of fur closely as his daughter held it to her face and chest. Ellie had just started high school and was on a regular Sunday forest walk with her mother and father just outside of town.

‘Well, it really is cute,’ said Grace Fielding, her mother, smiling broadly. Grace was a physician in the town.

‘True enough,’ said Doug. ‘But I have never seen anything like it. It’s a living, breathing teddy bear.’

‘So can I keep her, dad?’

‘How can you tell it’s a “her”,’ said Doug, bemused.

‘She just seems like one,’ said Ellie, cuddling the creature. 

‘All right,’ said Grace, laughing. ‘She can be a girl until proven otherwise.’

‘Dad!’ Ellie stamped her foot, causing a twig to snap in the bracken of the woods. ‘I love her. I want to take her home. I promise I’ll look after her.’

‘We shouldn’t really disturb wild woodland creatures, Ellie. For all we know, your teddy bear creature may be waiting for its mother. It would be cruel to remove it from its environment.’

‘Her!’ said Ellie. 

‘Ok, her environment,’ laughed her dad. ‘Now put her down and we’ll continue our walk. You wouldn’t want to be responsible for parting her from her family, would you?’

‘I guess not,’ said Ellie, sadly. She gently placed the teddy bear on the ground. ‘There you go, girl. ‘Maybe we’ll see you around next time we pay a visit.’

*

‘The Polanski’s dog is going crazy tonight, Doug. What could have gotten into Milly?’ Grace was peering through the window, but saw nothing untoward. Except the street lights were dark. The only light came from their house and the Polanski’s.

‘Probably a fox or a coyote after the chickens again,’ said Doug, joining his wife at the window. The Fieldings lived in a comfortable middle class suburb of the city in a not-too-large but not-too-small detached house with a front porch, sprawling lawned frontage, and a large back garden, half floral; half vegetable and herb. The Polanski’s next door had a house of similar design and size, but they kept chickens in their back yard, much to the mild annoyance of the Fieldings, on account of the noise and the occasional odour. Other than that the neighbours were friendly enough to each other and socialised from time to time at each other’s homes. The suburb where they lived was very close to a woodland, and beyond that the rocky foothills of a mountain range, and then the city.

‘I’d better go see,’ said Doug. ‘Ellie, get me the flashlight. I’ll see if the Polanskis need a hand with anything, and the street lights are out.’

Grace handed Doug the shotgun. ‘Better take this. It may be a prowler.’

‘Or maybe Old Yeller,’ grinned Doug. ‘Foaming at the mouth and baying for blood.’

‘Or maybe just be careful,’ said Grace, a concerned look on her face. Doug took the gun, and the torch proffered by Ellie. 

‘Can I come too, dad?’ said Elie.

‘You stay right here, young lady, until dad says it’s safe,’ warned Grace sternly.

‘Well, can I watch from the front porch?’ begged Ellie. She felt more than just curious.

‘Why not,’ said Doug. He slipped on his boots and jacket and left the house. Ellie watched and waited. She eventually saw the beams of flashlights searching around next door’s back yard, hunting for whatever had spooked Milly the labrador.

Cloud had obscured the stars, and Ellie could see a faint mist in the air as she watched the lights bounce around the trees and bushes next door.

Ellie turned to a faint purring, mewling sound, and a light tugging on the leg of her jeans. It was the tiny, cute furball she had cuddled that same morning.

‘Hello, girl. What are you doing here?’ she said, picking the teddy bear-like animal up and hugging it to her. It felt warm to her touch, and snuggled comfortably into her embrace. ‘Mom! Come out here, quick. You’ll never guess.’

Grace Fielding worriedly dashed outside, only to stop short as she saw the girl and the teddy-like furball bear together again.

‘Well,’ said Grace, ‘Your furry little friend looks like she’s taken a shine to you.’

‘Now can I keep her?’ pleaded Ellie.

‘I don’t have a problem with it, but your dad’s the animal expert, let’s see what he has to say.’

A short while later they watched as Doug walked back around to the front of the Polanski house, shook hands with Joe Polanski, then walked back home. Walking up the porch steps Doug looked grim.

‘What’s the matter, hun? Everything ok?’ asked Grace.

Doug silently shook his head and walked back into the house. Grace and Ellie followed, a puzzled frown on their faces.

‘What is it dad?’ said Ellie, still hugging her cuddly bear.

‘I guess it must have been a coyote after all, maybe a mountain lion. Hard to tell, I’ll take a closer look in the morning. But something got to the chickens, killed them all. In fact tore them into tiny pieces, unrecognisable. It also killed Johnny’s rabbits in their hutch.’ Johnny was the youngest Polanski son. ‘I’ve seen livestock attacks before, but nothing like this,’ said Doug. ‘Joe’s on to the police right now. If it’s a mountain lion we may have to call a search. It’s a real danger to local wildlife, not to mention people.’

‘Come sit down, Doug,’ said Grace, taking Doug’s jacket and gun. Ellie took the flashlight. Doug sat in his chair and eased off his boots. ‘There’s nothing we can do until tomorrow.’ She handed him a generous glass of whisky. But Grace could tell Doug was severely disturbed by what he had seen.

Ellie came back in the room with the tiny furry bear, looking at her mother, a silent overwhelming question in her mind. Grace knew Doug needed some distraction from the events of the evening, and this could well be it. She nodded assent to Ellie.

‘Dad, I’ve got something to show you,’ said Ellie, and held out the squirmy little creature.

Doug looked up, was initially bewildered, then smiled broadly. ‘Well look at that. The little guy must have followed you home.’

‘It’s a girl!’ said Ellie, exasperated, but calm.

‘Ok, I take it back,’ said Doug. ‘So, let’s have a look.’ Ellie handed the living teddy bear to her dad. It cuddled into him and purred contentedly. ‘I suppose you want to keep her,’ smiled Doug.

‘Can I, dad? Please.’

‘I guess so,’ said Doug. Ellie rushed to him and gave him a hug. The fur bear cuddled into both of them. The deal was done.

‘All right,’ said Grace. ‘Where should we keep her? What do we feed her on? And what should we call her?’

*

Doug and Ellie walked into the kitchen next morning to see a teddy bear-shaped indentation in the blanket they had provided near the kitchen door. Looking through the window they saw Ellie and the creature playing.

‘Ellie and Tryxa look like they’re getting along nicely,’ said Grace.

‘Ellie and who-now?’ asked Doug.

‘Tryxa. While you were pondering over your veterinary books last night she named it Tryxa.’ Grace said. ‘Don’t ask. I have no idea where she got that name from.’ 

‘Well, without further physical examination, Tryxa seems to be of the Ursidae family, in other words bear, or possibly the red panda family, Ailurus fulgrens, but of a sub-species I have never seen or heard of before. She’s bipedal and seems to have some intelligence. She’s certainly likeable, on some deep level too. Probably vegetarian, so we can cut up some veg for her meals and see how she takes to them.’

The doorbell rang. Joe Polanski was at the door.

‘Sheriff’s here, Doug,’ said Joe.

‘The sheriff? For a coyote attack?’

‘Yeah, he said he wants to talk to you, can you come over?’

They walked next door, where the sheriff’s car was parked in the driveway.

‘Dr Fielding, glad you could come over,’ said Sheriff Rodriguez, shaking hands.

‘You’re investigating a coyote attack?’ said Doug.

‘We don’t think it’s coyotes, Dr Fielding, and as a vet we would like your expert opinion on this attack. Fact is, there have been similar attacks all over town last night. Chickens, rabbits, guinea pigs, dogs, cats in people’s back yards, you name it. Farms too. Sheep and cattle have been slaughtered. All in the same way.’ Rodriguez looked at Doug keenly. ‘We’ve had forensics into the farms affected, and they’re stumped. They’ve discounted human interference, and it doesn’t fit into known previous attacks by coyotes or mountain lions, which tend to keep to themselves away from human habitation.’

‘Yes, I’ve been reading up on that, and I agree,’ said Doug.

‘Dr Fielding, I’d like you to run some forensic tests on Mr Polanski’s chickens and the rabbits, what’s left of them. My forensics people are tied up with the farm attacks, and you’re the only veterinary surgeon in town.’ 

‘What about the city, surely they have police forensic back-up?’ said Doug.

Sheriff Rodriguez sighed deeply and pinched his tired eyes. ‘We’re cut off from the city. Phone lines are out. Internet is down. Any attempt by any vehicle to leave town ends in breakdown. They just crawl to a halt. If anyone tries to leave on foot, they suddenly find themselves heading back into town. 

‘So, Dr Fielding, you’re our on-the-spot man. Report back to me when you have something. Failing that, we have no clues,’ frowned Rodriguez.

Doug Fielding looked towards the city, on the far side of the mountains. ‘We’re trapped,’ he thought.

‘I’ll get my surgical kit and scrubs and I’ll be right back,’ said Doug, about to dash off.

‘Before you go, Doug, can you take a quick look at Milly’s paw. She’s been limping badly since last night. I’m wondering if whatever killed our animals injured her,’ said Joe.

‘All right, let’s have a look,’ said Doug. He knelt on the floor to examine Milly’s paw. The dog yelped when he touched a sensitive part. Doug took a closer look. A pinprick wound with a tiny blood stain could barely be seen, but it was a through-and-through injury, from the top of Milly’s foot through to the underside pad of her paw. 

‘Could she have injured it on something outside?’ asked Doug.

‘Nothing we have could have done this.’

‘I guess not. When I bring my kit, I’ll take a blood sample and put some antiseptic on. It’s a nasty, painful injury, but not a major one. I’ll be back in a minute.’

*

Doug Fielding had cancelled all his surgical appointments and spent the whole day forensically examining the carnage in the Polanski’s back yard. He took all his samples back to his home office, which doubled as a laboratory, and began to microscopically investigate each one. Doug sat back from his microscope. Every sample contained an aberration he had never seen before. Including the sample from Milly the labrador.

A scream came from upstairs.

‘Grace!’ yelled Doug. He raced up the stairs and heard running water from the bathroom.

‘In here!’ shouted Grace, breathlessly. Doug entered the bathroom and saw Grace bathing her hand in cold water. ‘That damn fur bear,’ said Grace through clenched teeth.

‘What happened?’

‘It came upstairs as I was getting ready for my morning surgery. It’s big eyes were looking at me all forlornly, so I started stroking its head. Next thing I know there’s a pain like a red hot needle in my hand,’ said Grace.

‘Let’s take a look,’ said Doug. He took Grace’s hand. He could see the red circle where the wound started. He turned the hand over, and the same wound appeared on her palm, with a smear of fresh blood.

‘It’s just like Milly’s,’ said Doug.

‘Milly, next door’s dog?’ asked Grace.

‘Yep, she has a wound just like this. You say Tryxa did this.’

‘Yes, for no reason.’

‘How? She doesn’t have anything on her body that could cause such a deep, fine wound,’ puzzled Doug.

‘Well, I didn’t see her do it. She moved so quickly as I stroked her then bent to pick her up. There was a blur, then I felt the pain.’

‘I’ll need to take a blood sample,’ said Doug.

*

‘Dad, why d’you have Tryxa caged up?’ asked Ellie, close to tears. The cuddly furbear rattled the metal cage in frustration, her big black eyes imploring, almost mesmerising, Ellie, Doug and Grace, now with wounded hand bandaged, to set her free. Others in the room feeling the mental urge to go to Tryxa’s rescue, were the Polanski family. 

‘Sheriff’s on his way,’ said Joe Polanski. 

‘Good,’ said Doug. ‘I’m not sure how long this dog cage will be able to keep her.’

‘What is it anyway?’ asked Joe.

‘Good question,’ said Doug.

‘Morning everyone,’ said Sheriff Rodriguez. ‘Sign on your door said to walk in, so here I am.’ He looked at the caged creature. ‘What’s this?’

‘This cute critter is Tryxa. She’s the cause of our animal problems,’ said Doug, producing a sheaf of his forensic notes for the sheriff to read. ‘I don’t for the life of me know what it is.’

‘She!’ shouted Ellie.

‘I don’t think so, sweetheart,’ said Doug. ‘But let’s just see.’

Doug walked across the room and crouched by Tryxa’s cage. The creature turned its gaze on him. Doug ignored an overwhelming urge to release it.

‘Tryxa,’ he smiled. ‘You have killed many animals. You have injured Grace. We adopted you into our family. And this is how you repay us?’

A growl followed by a gruff laugh escaped from Tryxa’s mouth. 

Doug continued. ‘You are responsible for trapping everyone in this town. But now you are trapped. Let us go and we will let you go.’ Tryxa’s growl turned into a full-throated roar. Then the creature began to blur, then vibrate. The cute furball creature transformed into a slimy, pink blob, which grew two tentacular appendages as they watched. Beneath the blob dozens of smaller appendages wriggled to give movement. A bony cap covered the top of the blob, protecting the creature’s brain and its two tiny eyes. It looked at Doug. A long, thin needle quickly grew out from one of its arm appendages and without warning targeted Doug’s face. Doug dodged away. The needle withdrew. The blob wriggled towards the back of the cage.

The computer beeped, and words began to appear on the screen. Then inside the cage there was a flash, and Tryxa had vanished.

Now everyone turned to the computer screen: 

THANK YOU. GOOD GAME. UNTIL NEXT TIME …