Jellybones

October 29th, 2016

I stayed home from work. I didn't want to face the destruction in the art gallery another day, nor did I want to talk to my boss. The statue was still stuck in my mind. There had to be something more about it.

Sam had listened to the recount of my dream with fascination. He had always told me that I had a wild imagination, and I was certain that was what he was thinking as I told him my story. He had sat smiling at me sipping his coffee. I felt as if he were merely humoring me when he told me to see what else I could find about the statue.

I had done all the proper research on that statue before I fought for it. He was right, maybe there was something I had missed. I doubted it, because my research skills were well above average, especially when it came to art.

"It never hurts to recheck, especially in a situation like this, Julie. It means something to someone enough to commit murder over." Sam had said before he closed the door behind him.

I found information about the statue that I had already known. Discovered during an excavation of a motte-and-bailey in Wales, the sculpture had been found entrenched in the side of the ditch outside of the palisade.

By archaeologist estimation, the date of the piece had been listed as 1224. It was the oldest piece I had managed to procure for the Poxston Art Gallery. Despite its age and the fact that it had sat in mud for nearly 8 centuries, it was in pristine condition. As I had been certain of, there was nothing I had missed or found new about the statue.

I had started a google search for Jellybones, just as my phone rang. I wasn't going to answer it until I noticed the call was from my boss. Wonderful, I didn't want to deal with him today.

"Juliette, you need to get to the gallery ASAP! There has been another break in!" My boss didn't sound angry; he sounded terrified and had begun to stutter before he hung up.

***

I arrived at the gallery and walked inside. The police were back and as I entered, I let out a loud gasp, realizing I was looking at the same scene as I had seen in my dream the night before. The walls were covered in blood, and the smell of rotten fruit overwhelmed me. This time, I had to run outside, I had to throw up. I don't know if it was the smell that got to me or the Déjà vu I was experiencing.

I forced myself to go back inside the gallery. My boss was in a state of panic as he surveyed the destruction of the art gallery. He stood with one of the cops, going over the list I had given them the day before.

He saw me and waved me over. "How could you let this happen?"

"I didn't let this happen! I locked up both nights and the alarm was on! Maybe you should have put in better locks like both I and the security company advised you to do!" I wanted to snap his head off his neck. He blamed me just as I knew he would.

"The alarm was armed both nights, we checked that." Detective Robinson said. I was grateful that the cop from yesterday had come to my defense. "We don't know how they managed to bypass it, neither does your security company."

"Would have been smart to have gotten the package with the surveillance cameras that actually worked..." I remarked.

I felt vindicated by the cop's words. It was up to the security company to figure out how their system had been so easily breached. I had done my job. It wasn't my problem, I only worked here, and it was the boss' dime.

I walked away from my boss to the display area my prized statue had been proudly displayed. I wanted to see if it was there like it had been in my dream. I knelt to look for it, scouring through the other broken pieces that lay on the floor.

I found the cat.

***

The cat haunted my dreams that night. His charcoal fur felt stuck in my throat as if he had tried to smother me through my nightmare. Sam had woken me up, telling me he was going to go sleep on the couch. I had punched him in my sleep, and his face had started to redden where my fist had struck him.

I was sorry I had hurt him, and he had accepted my apology. He knew I was going through a traumatic time. He kissed me and left the room, pillows in hand.

Traumatic time, if you only knew the half of it... I thought to myself, settling back down into bed. As I wrapped my arms around my pillow, to go back to sleep, I heard the sound of a screen being cut.

I sat up to look at the window, as something smashed against it, trying to get into me. 

I came face to face with the cat.

He purred at me softly, and I could hear him in my head. "Let me in, Juliette, I am hungry and afraid in this strange world."

I slammed the window shut as he finished ripping apart the screen. I could hear the cat smashing his body into the glass, trying to break it.

"It's double paned, demon," I said to him, or maybe I said it to myself trying to make me feel protected by a simple pane of glass that sat between me and it.

He hissed his reply, and stood up on his hind legs, scratching and clawing at the glass with his upper paws. I pulled my pillow over my head, wrapping it around to cover my ears. The pillow deadened the sound of his claws on the glass, and most importantly, the demon-like hisses.

I had just started to drift off to sleep as my phone rang. I reached over to check it. It said unknown caller so I let it go to voice mail.

My phone kept ringing. I reached over and shut it off.

Just as I was on the cusp of sleep the phone rang. 

And rang. 

And rang.

I had turned it off...

I answered it. My curiosity got the better of me.

"Hello? It is 3:30 in the morning, this better be important." I said to the caller.

"Hello, Juliette. If you ever want to see Sam again, you will do as I say. Meet me at the old gristmill on Quaker road if you want him back." A woman's voice said.

"What old gristmill on Quaker road? I have lived here 25 years, and I have no idea what you are talking about. Sam is asleep on the couch downstairs, so I know you don't have him. Piss off." I hung up.

I started to lay back down to try once again to sleep. I couldn't hear the familiar sound of Sam snoring downstairs, maybe the caller wasn't lying, and maybe they did have Sam. I went downstairs to check.

Sam lay sleeping on our couch, peacefully. I sighed in relief and went back upstairs to sleep. I must have dreamed the phone call, how else could it have rung after I had turned it off.

The cat had stopped trying to break the window. He was gone.

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