Night in the Woods: The Final Night - Part l

Neighbors flocked to the police car and ambulance parked outside the Borowski’s, but received quite the shock when they heard that they weren’t there for something that Mae did. Mae had been sound asleep when sirens caterwauled outside her window. She jolted awake and began fumbling for her laptop, something in her dreams convincing her that the noise was coming from her computer and she had to put a stop to it. It took her a few moments to notice the flashes of red and blue glinting through her window.

“Eff the cops…” she mumbled, plodding down the steps in her pajamas (a shirt that turned see-thru in the wash and a pair of old gym shorts that had bleach stains on them). She looked around the den, squinting at the light emanating from the lamp on the nightstand. She heard voices outside, and saw her mother’s green bathrobe amongst the many shifting silhouettes.

“Mom..?” she called, leaving the front door open and standing on the porch. “Mom, what’s happening..?”

Her mother turned and wordlessly motioned her over. Mae came to her side, rubbing the sand from her eyes with one paw.

“Where’s Dad? Is everything okay?” Mae asked, just now realizing that the ambulance outside meant that someone had gotten hurt bad. Mae’s mother put an arm around her, which didn’t do much to dissuade the younger cat’s worry until she finally spoke.

“Your father is fine, hon, he’s talking with the police. It’s Mr. Penderson.”

Mae looked over and saw that her grouchy neighbor’s front door stood wide open. Two paramedics, a crow and a grey wolf, wheeled a gurney through the opening, its occupant completely covered by a tarp.

“He’s dead?!” Mae exclaimed, a little too loudly. The two paramedics looked at her briefly before exchanging sympathetic looks with one another. They must have thought Mae and Mr. Penderson were close.

“He was a very old man, hon. He probably passed on in his sleep.” Mae’s mother said, reassuringly squeezing her shoulder.

Mae didn’t reply. She was busy remembering just yesterday, when she passed by Mr. Penderson on her way back from the Video Outpost “Too.” He was slowly ambling up Main Street, and paused to knit his wrinkled, scaly brow at her.

“So you finally decided to pull your weight, have you?” The alligator wheezed.

“If that means I got a job, yeah. What’s it to you?” Mae asked venomously.

“I know what you are, lil’ miss. You’re mighty lucky this town gave you a second chance. If it were up to me-”

“Yeah, whatever. You’d scold me even if I cured cancer.” Mae said, cutting her neighbor off. She just wanted to go home and nap, not listen to the sour old coot berate her.

“Hmph.” was the only response she got as Mr. Penderson puttered past her, although Mae heard him mumble something about the youth of today. She headed home and curled up in her blankets, in an even worse mood than when she clocked out.

She didn’t want to admit it, but she hoped Penderson died when she was trying to fall asleep that night. It made her feel a little better.

“Mae, Candy, step back just a hair.”

Mae was snapped out of her guilt when her Aunt Molly passed in front of her, unraveling a long yellow line of police tape.

“Molly, what are you doing?” Mae’s mother asked. “This isn’t a crime scene. Mr. Penderson was almost ninety!”

“Just following orders.” Molly replied, tying the tape to a fence post before entering the house. Mae frowned and looked at her mother, who simply shook her head. Mae’s father, in an undershirt and fuzzy red pajama bottoms, approached them, immediately placing a hand on his daughter’s shoulder.

“Are you alright, kitten?” he asked.

“I’m fine. Aunt Mall Cop put up crime tape.” Mae replied.

“She did, didn’t she?” The family went quiet after that, watching Aunt Molly and another police officer talk in Mr. Penderson’s sitting room. Molly eventually noticed them through the window, and she drew the curtains.

“We should probably go to bed.” Mae’s mother said shortly after the curtains were drawn. “We all have work tomorrow. I’ll talk to Molly about all of this tomorrow morning.”

The three of them went inside. At the base of the stairs, Mae’s father turned to Mae, her mother pausing halfway up the stairs and looking down at them.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Mae? I know you and Mr. Penderson weren’t by any definition close, but…”

“I’m okay, Dad. Thanks though.” Mae said, giving a half-hearted smile. The two of them hugged before heading upstairs to bed. Mae stared out of her window for a while before turning away, the red and blue lights dancing on the wall and keeping her awake for a long while before she drifted into a fitful sleep.

---

Mae woke up before her alarm, the worst feeling in the world. She hated the irritating, buzzy noise the digital clock made, but she hated anticipating it even more. She was happy to be working, but she wished there was a way to wake up without that stupid alarm clock.

She rolled out of bed and rummaged through her dresser for some clean clothes. After settling on her favorite orange T-Shirt with the crossed out zero and some baggy jeans, she found her name tag (Hello! My name is MAE) in a pile of dirty clothes and trudged downstairs. She had Angus to thank for netting her the job at the video store. The deer that worked the night shift quit in April to pursue a modeling career, and Angus immediately approached his manager and told him about Mae. Bea helped her with her resume, and she was soon working from 3 to 9 five days a week. Her mom and dad were thrilled that Mae managed to find a job, even if it paid minimum wage and was supremely boring. Still, money is money and work is work.

After freshening up and grabbing a fistful of Cheerios for breakfast, she went outside. The police tape from the previous night flapped limply in the summer wind. She stared for a long while at the yellow and black stripe warning her to not cross. She thought about taking a look inside, but she could leave fingerprints and get in trouble with the cops all over again. Nevertheless, her curiosity was potent. Mr. Penderson may have been a jerk, but she couldn’t think of a reason anyone would have wanted him dead. No one alive, anyhow.

Mae made her way into town, passing by a newsstand. That day’s headline was something about the lumber industry. The news hadn’t reached everyone yet, apparently.

“Hey Borowski.”

Mae felt an arm, clad in a purple sweatshirt, wrap around her neck as her scalp was playfully rubbed by a set of knuckles.

“Ack! Selmeeers, quit it!” Mae whined, trying to bap the offending hand away.

“What, too busy to talk? You went right past my door.”

Selma Ann Forrester, better known to Mae as Selmers, was Mae’s longtime neighbor and currently her girlfriend. Mae had no idea the bear was into girls, as she had been married to a man named Dennis for a little while before he left Selma for another woman, and she never made mention of her romantic life after that. She shared a beer with Mae on her 21st birthday, and after the lightweight cat drunkenly and jokingly said she loved her and wanted to go out with her, Selmers took her up on the deal. Mae of course didn’t remember the next morning, but went along with the date anyway, and the two had a good time. Not just a good time, a great time. Five months later, they were still tight like glue.

“No, I’m just thinking.” Mae said, squirming from Selmers’ grasp only to fall right back into it with a brief hug.

“Did you hear what happened? Mr. Penderson died.”

Selmers’ easygoing smile faltered a bit. “Seriously? Oh, shit. He’s been there since I was in diapers. You okay?”

“Why does everyone keep asking that? Yeah, I’m fine, I kind of hated his guts.” Mae replied, following Selmers back to her front stoop.

“Still, he’s our neighbor, asshole or not.” Selmers said, plopping onto her usual spot on the stoop and tucking her paws into the pockets of her hoody. Mae sat beside her.

“It’s weird,” Mae said. “They put up police tape last night to keep people from going inside, like a murder scene or something.”

“Could have just been to keep the press out. Or teenagers.”

“I dunno. I saw him yesterday, and he was out walking. He seemed fine, as fine as a nasty old crank can get.” Mae said, resting her chin on a paw.

“Who knows? Sometimes really old people just… stop living. It’s what happened to my Nana. She was 93 and perfectly healthy, but she died in her sleep out of nowhere two years ago.”

“Maybe.” said Mae, resting her head on Selmers’ shoulder. The bear wrapped an arm about her in reply. “You write any new poems?”

“Nah. I’ve been reading more out of that poetry book from the library, though.”

“Whatcha read?” Mae asked.

“‘Howl’ and ‘America’ by Ginsberg. Pretty great stuff. Too many dicks though.” Selmers said with a faint smile.

“You can never have too many dicks.” said Mae.

“This guy always finds a way to incorporate dick, though. Every metaphor is a dick.”

“Maybe he wrote his poems while he was naked?”

“He was gay, too.” Selmers added.

“So? Maybe he was really horny.”

“Back in the fifties. Being gay back then was like, a life-ruining accusation back then.”

“Oh. Well, good for him for not hiding his love of dick.” Mae declared, holding up a triumphant fist. “What’s not to love?”

“Being late for work.” Selmers said, raising an eyebrow.

“Shiiiit I have to woooork.” Mae whined. “Can I see you after my shift?”

“Not today. I got my interview at five and I’m babysitting.” Selmers replied. “Text me though, we’ll make plans for the weekend.”

“You’re gonna nail it b-t-dubs.”

“Get to work, dork.” Selmers chuckled, giving Mae a quick smooch on the lips before letting her head off.

Mae couldn’t quite describe the charm Selmers possessed. She was always chill and easy to talk to. Though she was closing in on 30, she never treated Mae like a kid, and thus never felt like an adult. Mae also considered her a kindred spirit, being an unemployed dropout, even though Mae was no longer unemployed and Selmers was going to get a job at the library. The interview was pretty much just a ceremony, Selmers was guaranteed the job since she was loved at the library, a frequent patron and member of the Possum Springs Poetry Society.

Mae unlocked the door to the Video Outpost “Too.” She rarely saw Angus leaving the store, since he tended to leave a little early to make himself some lunch, and Mae was usually there a minute or two before her shift started at 3. She flipped the sign on the front door to OPEN and climbed onto the stepstool behind the register, as she was too short to be seen otherwise. Mae sighed, preparing for another evening of boredom, but her ears perked up a bit when she remembered that she had charged her phone. One of the perks about working at the movie store was the Wi-Fi, since Possum Springs had terrible reception. She pulled out the phone she got for her birthday and checked her messages. Gregg had sent a photo while Bea continued their conversation from the other night. She checked Bea first.

“I’ll look and see. Doubt it though.” Mae had asked Bea if she had Eliot’s The Waste Land laying around her apartment, since Selmers really wanted to read it and the library didn’t own a copy. Mae told her girlfriend that she could probably look up a reading on YouTube or just find a pdf of it, but Selmers declined, saying that she learned better out of books. Mae replied with a simple “thanks beabea”

Gregg had sent Mae a candid picture of Angus’s butt, with the caption “#blessed.” Mae smirked and replied with “more like #secondbest, wait till i get one of my girl”. She wasn’t quite comfortable enough to ask Selmers for an ass shot yet, but the day would come.

She put her phone in her back pocket and rested her chin on her paw, before taking her phone out again and sending a message to the group chat with Bea, Gregg, Angus and Germ.

“Guys, Mr. Penderson totally died last night.”

She got an almost immediate reply from Germ. “I saw him buy milk yesterday.”

“I saw him yesterday too.” Mae typed.

“Wait, is that the nice old goat that lives next door to you?” Bea asked.

“No, that’s Mr. Twigmeyer, he’s on vacation.”

“Oh.”

“We egged his house!” Gregg exclaimed. “He was ur neighbor for like ever. Rip.”

“He seemed fine when I saw him last though, and they put up police tape.”

“I think they do that with just about every person that dies unexpectedly.” Bea said.

Mae began typing out a message “You don’t think it’s-” before shaking her head and erasing it. She instead replied with “Yeah, I bet you’re right.”

“You have a cop in your family you could probably ask if it was murder.” Germ said. Mae snorted, the bird really had no filter.

“That’s not how it works, Germ.” Bea replied.

“Why not? My family tells each other secret stuff all the time.”

“Mine doesn’t.” Bea said.

“Mine neither, at least not Aunt Mall Cop. She could turn coal into diamonds.” Mae typed out some more messages. “With her ass.” “Since she’s so tight-assed.”

“You could at least get diamonds.” Germ said after a moment.

“Give me and Angus some!” Gregg interjected.

“I’m not sure people would pay much for rectal jewelry.” Bea retorted.

“I could make a fortune! No one has to know they’re ass diamonds.” Mae exclaimed.

“What have I stumbled on?” Angus said, finally joining the conversation. “I left for some groceries and came home to this.”

“Mae’s neighbor is dead and she wants to make money off of ass diamonds.” Germ replied instantaneously. He was by far the fastest typer.

“Ass diamonds. As in, diamonds you wear on your ass?” A new text from Angus followed a moment or two later. “Wait, is your neighbor actually dead?”

“Yup. Mr. Penderson took a dive.” Mae said.

“Oh. The old racist guy? Can’t say I’m heartbroken.” Angus replied

“She meant diamonds that came from her Aunt’s ass.” Germ said.

“Gross.”

“Oh hey cap’n you remember to grab angel hair?” Gregg asked.

“Couldn’t get anything. Ham Panther was closed when I got there.”

“Closed? Why?” Bea inquired.

“Something happened there. Cops told me it was for my own safety.”

“Your safety?!?!” Gregg typed. “What the hell happened?”

“They must have bad milk.” Germ said.

“What?” Bea asked.

“Germ what actually are you talking about?’ Gregg chimed in a half-second later.

“Penderson bought milk at the Panther and died. The cops were at his house and now they’re at the Panther.”

“I don’t get it.” Gregg typed.

“Germ, Mr. Penderson was old and probably had half a dozen health problems” Bea replied. “How do you know he even bought milk from the Ham Panther anyway?”

“I saw him there last night. I went to buy Gramma some Fish Oil pills, and I was behind him in the express lane. He told me I was dressed like a shoplifter.” Germ explained.

“It’s a stretch.” Bea said. “Someone might have just broken in.”

The conversation changed to summer plans after that, but Mae kept thinking about what Germ had said. Sure, it was a longshot that the two crimes were connected, but if they were, it meant that either Mr. Penderson ran into some especially rotten milk or there was some kind of foul play going on. The latter thought made Mae’s stomach churn, as images of black cloaks and arms without owners flashed through her mind.

She thought about asking her father if he knew anything, but he probably wouldn’t. Aunt Molly was usually as short with her brother-in-law as she was with Mae, so the chances of her revealing anything were slim to none. It didn’t stop Mae from calling her dad to ask if he was alright. He was fine, and Mae wasn’t surprised to hear that he knew nothing about why the store was closed earlier that afternoon or why the police were interviewing employees one at a time. Mae told him she had heard through the grapevine about the store’s closing, and said she looked forward to seeing him tonight, not mentioning anything about milk or Mr. Penderson.

At closing time, Mae was simply happy that the weekend had arrived, dark thoughts drowned out by her excitement for band practice, hanging out with the gang and chilling in Selmers’ arms. She found herself humming a song she heard on one of the looping movie trailers at the Video Outpost “Too.” She found a stick and hit an acorn with it, which clacked against a telephone pole. She came to a stop at her house, just a few paces away from the walk up to her front door.

A tiny scrap of paper, neatly folded up, was taped to the side of Mr. Penderson’s mailbox. It didn’t look anything like a letter, and it couldn’t have been a flyer since there weren’t identical bits of paper taped to everyone else’s mailbox. She let curiosity get the better of her and gingerly peeled the paper free from the metal.

Within was what looked like a clipping from a book, containing a single paragraph that was highlighted in green.

“He saw that for the rest of his days, frail, racked, but enduring, he would live in the face of a purifying terror. A feeble cry, a last impossible protest escaped him. But the Holy Ghost, emblazoned in ice instead of fire, continued, implacably, to descend.”