From a Dream: Darkly Dreaming Part I by C. J. Valles, Alessa James Page A

long time ago. And those of us who were alive back then are too old to go digging up the past.”
    I shot a look at my dad as Mrs. Hendrix kneaded the blanket he had set on her … like she was afraid to let go of it.
    “Well, I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m ready for some tea and then bed,” my dad said with an exaggerated yawn.
    He nodded to me, and I took his cue and went into the kitchen to put on the kettle and find the chamomile tea. I listened as he tried to reassure Mrs. Hendrix, telling her that he was sure it was nothing to worry about. But she continued to sound rattled about whatever it was she had read in the paper that had brought up some obviously unsettling memories from her childhood. I tried to imagine Mrs. Hendrix as a young girl, but I couldn’t quite do it. I made a mental note to find a copy of the paper. The kettle whistled, and I had just poured three mugs of steaming water when I heard a mournful howl from the back yard.
    I groaned and hurried to the door. I had forgotten Darcy. Again. As I opened the door, I noticed a small scuff mark where the doorknob had banged into the wall several times in the past few weeks. My dad kept saying it was on his list of to-do items to get the lock fixed, but I knew it wasn’t going to happen any time soon. After all, he joked, it wasn’t like Winters had a skyrocketing crime rate.
    Across the yard, Darcy sat staring up at the trees, but he came reluctantly when I called him. The night air smelled damp, and a blast of cold air made me want to run upstairs and wrap myself in my blanket. Instead, I carried the mugs of tea back to the living room. Mrs. Hendrix looked like she had recovered, but the mug shook in her hand as she took it from me.
    When I returned to the kitchen to get my mug, I skipped my usual milk and sugar, opting to burn my tongue as I sipped the hot tea. Distracted, I listened while my dad and Mrs. Hendrix talked about gardening. Then, as soon as I finished my tea, I rushed into the kitchen and deposited my mug in the sink before returning to the living room and giving Mrs. Hendrix a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Her finely wrinkled skin had the texture of cloth that had been handled many times over several decades, and I wondered, as I looked into her watery blue eyes, what it was like to be that old—to look back across an entire lifetime. After pecking my dad’s cheek, I turned toward the stairs with Darcy right behind me.
    The newspaper lay on the entryway table as I passed. I tucked it under my arm as my dad helped Mrs. Hendrix with her coat. In my room, I locked the door behind me, switched on my desk lamp, and opened the paper, scrutinizing the headlines.
     
    Spike in Wildlife Deaths Baffles Authorities
     
    A spate of unexplained wildlife deaths—ranging from several deer to the rarely seen but impressive predator, the mountain lion—has puzzled local wildlife experts and law enforcement.
    The deaths came to a head last week when a dairy farmer found the body of the large cat (Felis concolor) at the edge of his property. Wildlife experts were called to perform an examination and cited tissue damage as their preliminary finding.
    “I can’t say I’m disappointed the cat never made it to my herd, but still I bear no ill will toward these creatures,” said Bill Davis, owner of the property. “They help keep nature’s balance. Honestly, I can’t think of anything that could have done what happened to that cat. I won’t get the image from my head for a long time to come.”
    Before the creature was found, local officials at the Department of Game and Wildlife had recorded a spike in the percentage of reported deaths of large game—mostly deer—in the region. Hikers and hunters stumbled on most of the remains. The department has performed several necropsies, but the results have remained inconclusive, according to Alfred Montague, head of the regional office.
    “Our department maintains meticulous records of any