He walked over to the set and read a childish scrawl.
Your wife saw the knife
before she died.
In the kitchen, he found dirty dishes and uneaten food on the breakfast table and counter tops. He emptied filthy water from the sink and rinsed the dishes, worrying and thinking about the note as he worked. Then he turned on the disposal, grinding the rotting scraps into the city sewer system. He filled the sink with clean soapy water and started to wash the dishes, when he was interrupted by the doorbell.
He dried his hands, wondering who wanted him so early in the morning. He decided not to take any chances. He hadn’t told anybody when he was coming back and his house had been broken into, two good reasons to exercise caution.
He went out the back door, into the cover of the forest that encircled the two houses on the hill. He worked his way around the back, to the west side of the house, trying to move as quietly as possible, using tree and bush as cover. He paralleled the house, till he was opposite the front porch and saw her. His caution hadn’t been necessary after all.
“
Judy?” He stepped from behind a tall pine.
“
I saw the light,” she said.
“
I had a break in. The burglar left a note.”
“
They must have been awfully quiet, we didn’t hear anyone.”
“
You want to come in?” He mounted the porch, inviting her inside.
“
Sure.” She followed him in.
She saw the beer cans and refuse, but her eyes quickly fastened on the note taped to the television screen.
“
That’s the note?” she asked.
“
Read it.”
She crossed over to the television. “Oh, no.”
“
Yeah.”
“
You think maybe she was killed?” she said.
“
I don’t see how.”
“
Maybe J.P. really did see a knife,” she said.
“
I did.”
The pair turned to see J.P. framed in the open doorway.
“
You scared me,” Judy said.
“
Sorry, I didn’t do it on purpose. I saw Rick drive up, so I got dressed and came over.”
“
Have you seen anybody around here?” Rick asked.
“
No,” J.P. said.
“
That’s hardly surprising, you’ve been gone a long time. He could have been here six months or six days ago,” Judy said.
“
More like six months,” Rick said. “The food scraps have started to come alive with mold.”
“
I saw an animal though, the Ghost Dog,” J.P. said. “It comes sometimes at night and sniffs around. Mom says it’s a dog, but I know better. It’s the Ghost Dog.”
“
There have been some reports of a large wild dog,” Judy said.
“
The Ghost Dog,” J.P. repeated.
“
J.P., there’s no such thing as ghosts or ghost dogs,” Rick said. “Your mother’s probably right, it’s a dog. I’ve seen it too.”
“
Really?”
“
Yeah, it ran in front of my car this morning. I almost hit it.”
“
Did you think it was a bear?”
“
At first, but it was too fast. It looked more like a big dog, maybe a black lab.”
“
Maybe the Ghost Dog?”
“
It wasn’t a ghost dog. It was just a big dog. Right now it’s probably asleep in a nice warm house.”
“
Really, you think so?”
“
I know so.”
“
I’m glad, I was kinda scared, but I’m not now.”
“
Good boy.”
“
I’m glad you’re back,” he said.
“
I’m glad to be back.”
“
You wanna go fishing?” the boy asked.
“
I’ll get my gear,” Rick said, “but first I’ve got to call the sheriff.”
Within minutes Sheriff Sturgees was in Rick’s living room, reading the note.
“
Probably kids,” he said.
“
How can you say that?” Judy said.
“
Nothing missing, no real damage done and the note looks like a kid wrote it.”
“
I can’t believe anybody around here would be cruel enough to write a note like that,” Judy said.
“
Me either,” Rick said.
“
You don’t know kids,” the sheriff said. “What we think is cruel, they think is good clean fun.”
“
I can’t believe that,” Rick said.
“
Oh yeah, when is the last time you pulled the wings off a bee, or stuck a fire cracker up a frog’s ass, or put a cherry bomb down a mailbox? Kids having fun can be cruel.”
“
Maybe?” Judy said.
“
I have my doubts,” Rick said.
“
As long as I’m here I’d like to ask you something,” Sheriff Sturgees said.
“
Ask away.”
“
Tell me about the Ragged Man,” he said.
Rick was stunned and the sheriff saw it in his eyes. J.P. bit into his lower lip and took his mother by the hand.
“
That’s a strange question,” Rick said.
“
In two months I’m throwing in with my brother, we’re gonna buy the Chevy dealership in town. Ever since that day when Mark, Vicky and Janis were killed, the luster has gone out of this job, but I’d like to walk away knowing that I didn’t leave any stone unturned. I’ve heard this nonsense about the Ragged Man and this Ghost Dog the kids have been talking about and I want to know more.”
“
Sheriff, you can’t believe this stuff?”
“
Didn’t say I believed it, said I wanted to know more.”
“
And why ask me?”
The sheriff turned to J.P. “My boy says you told him a story about the day Mrs. Gordon was killed.”
“
Yes, sir,” J.P. said.
“
J.P.!” Judy said.
“
That’s okay Mrs. Donovan. Don’t blame the boy. Kids talk, they don’t mean nothing by it. I just want to hear the story from Mr. Gordon.”
“
Then we better all sit down,” Rick said.
“
Then there is a story?” The sheriff plopped down on the sofa.
“
When you were a child, Sheriff, were you afraid of the Bogeyman?” Rick asked, his voice cracking.
“
I don’t have time for games.”
“
Ann was afraid of the Bogeyman. She had a name for him. She called him the Ragged Man. And her bogeyman has a familiar, a black dingo with saber-tooth canines and tiger-like paws.”
“
What’s a dingo?” J.P. asked.
“
A wild dog, like a wolf,” Rick said. “They live in the Australian outback.”
“
Are you going somewhere with this?” Sturgees asked.
“
You want to know about the Ragged Man?”
“
Yes.”
“
Two years ago we were stranded in the Australian outback. Ann and I were racing in the Australian Safari. That’s a desert road race, and we broke down. While we were wondering what we were going to do, an old couple, Aborigines, came along in an old Jeep.”
“
Like yours?” J.P. asked.
“
It’s the same Jeep, J.P.”
Rick looked out the window, half expecting to see Ann, then continued with his story. “The woman was ill and we asked if they needed help. The man said we could bury them and then they died.”
“
Wait a minute.”
“
Let me finish, Sheriff, then ask me whatever questions you want.”
“
Sorry.”
“
We buried them off the road and took the Jeep. For reasons I can’t explain, we decided not to tell anyone about the old couple. That may not have been the right thing to do, but that’s what we decided.
“
While we were driving back to civilization, a pack of dingoes started following us. We lost them and that night, when we were sitting by the campfire, they found us. I got up to protect Ann and one of the dingoes attacked me. It dragged me down and I was knocked unconscious. The rest of the story I learned from Ann.
“
She told me that after I was knocked out, she was afraid that she was going to be killed. One of the dingoes lept into the fire and danced. The fire had no effect on the animal and, when it stopped its dance, it glared at her with glowing red eyes and saber-tooth teeth. She called it a ghost dog and she thought it was going to kill her.”
“
The Ghost Dog,” J.P. said under his breath.
“
Then the Ragged Man came out of the night. He was wearing foul, dirty clothes and she said she could smell his breath from twenty feet away.
“
The Ragged Man told her to smell her fear.”
“
That’s what the voice told us. I heard it from through the door,” J.P. said.
“
But before the evil man or his ghost dog could harm her, another man entered the glow of the fire and saved her. This other man healed my bleeding head and arm with his touch and stayed with her till morning.
“
When I came to I was fine. No head wound where my head crashed on the ground. No gashes in my arm where the dingo dog ripped my flesh. Not even any bruises. Something happened that night. I don’t know what, but something happened.
“
Sheriff, I can’t tell you who or what was responsible for everything that happened the day the Donovans were killed, but I can tell you what Ann would have said.”
“
Go on.”
“
It’s a story of shamen and sorcerers, good and evil, magic, sorcery and ghosts that walk the land—and it’s very probably not relevant. You still want me to go on?”
“
Yes.”
“
Do you know what a shaman is?”
“
A kind of witch doctor.”
“
You’re not too far off. The Aborigines have a traditional healer, a shaman, a marangit in their language. It’s his or her job to protect the clan from the evil of the galka and, if possible, to undo whatever evil the galka has done.”
“
Galka?” the sheriff asked.
“
The Bogeyman. The Galka are sorcerers who use their power for evil. They’re strangers who travel the land to seek out and kill. They like to ambush their victims in secluded places, where they kill them and mutilate their bodies.
“
Galka is one of the first words a child learns and he is taught from infancy to fear it. ‘Don’t stray from camp or the galka will get you,’ ‘Don’t go in the water or the galka will get you.’ Sound like the bogeyman?”
“
Yeah,” J.P. said.
“
But it’s not only children, adults fear the galka, too. The galka is the reason a woman won’t go to the river alone and why a hunter won’t hunt out of eyesight of another. No one strays from camp at night for fear the galka will get them.”
“
Why does it want to get them?” J.P. asked, captivated.
“
The Aborigines believe that people have two souls, a true soul and a false soul. When a person dies, the true soul goes to the clan’s waterhole or their version of heaven, while the false soul goes into the bush where it turns into a bad spirit called a mokuy. Sometimes, if it’s a strong spirit, and if a suitable human is present when it’s released, it will turn that man into a galka and give him evil powers. The mokuy then becomes the galka’s spirit familiar.”
“
Like a witch’s black cat,” Judy said.
The sheriff remained silent.
“
Yes, only mokuy don’t appear as anything so lovable. They usually take the form of deformed large animals that are sent out by the galka to kill and maim. The mokuy can’t live without the galka, they make him what he is and then they do his bidding.”
“
Can anything stop a galka?” J.P. asked.
“
Yes, two things, the first is a marangit. They get their power from the true soul. Sometimes, if a good person is present at the time of death, the true soul will touch him on its way to the waterhole, turning him into a marangit with the powers of good. Marangit use their powers to heal and protect.
“
The marangit has a small dillybag or box that contains the ten healing stones which he uses to treat the members of his clan. Each stone has a different power. One, when placed in a glass of water turns the liquid into a healing potion for the stomach, liver or kidneys. Another heals internal sores, another, external sores and wounds, another is an X-ray stone letting the marangit see inside the patient. Oh, yeah, and one stone tells him the identity of the killer after a murder has happened.”
“
The sheriff could use a stone like that,” J.P. said.
“
I sure could.” Sturgees turned to Rick and added, “Are you finished yet?”
“
Not quite. There is a never-ending battle between good and evil, between marangit and galka. The galka causes illness and kills. The marangit heals and protects. A galka will never stop trying to kill the marangit and even though it’s possible for a marangit to kill a galka, it almost never happens, evil usually wins.
“
The power of both the marangit and galka is passed on after death, usually to one of their children, however if they die away from their family and anyone else is present, the power and personality is transferred to that person, and that brings me to the crux of the situation.”
“
I don’t get it,” Judy said.