The White Moth, Part II

After the interruption, we’re back to our story; if you need a refresher, read Part I.  We continue…

As he stomped up the porch steps, Jackson threw open the sliding glass door, holding back Ophelia, who nearly bolted into his waist, with his leg as quickly she ran towards him, she started to growl and bark.  So much so, that she frightened Jackson out of the way, and she perched herself at the top of the stairs of the porch.

“Get in there!”

Jackson yelled at Hamlet as he shoved him in the house and quickly slammed the door.

“Ophelia!”

He called to the other dog.  She hadn’t left her post at the crown of the steps, and was quietly growling into the air.  He felt bad that he had left her inside alone for so long, so he grabbed a leash off the porch, clasped it around her neck, and tried to walk to the car.

Ophelia was resistant and felt as if she were cemented to her post.  Jackson reached up and grabbed at her collar when, suddenly, with a clap of lightning, Ophelia snapped at him and almost caught Jackson’s fingers within her jowls.

“Hey!  Knock it off!”

He yelled with a yank at her collar.  Instead of walking her around the yard as he had planned, he chained her up to one of the posts on the porch and walked down to the yard alone.  From his pocket he pulled a red and white box of cigarettes, clasped his lips around one of the long cylindrical tube’s brown ends, and sparked a lighter at its tip.

As Jackson inhaled deeply, he could see that a fog was rolling in, not an odd occurrence since his family’s house was in the valley.  He thought that he could see something moving in the mist, but he couldn’t be sure if it was the fog rolling in or the light from the porch playing tricks on his eyes.  No, there was definitely something walking slowly towards him.

Ophelia started to whine and cower on the porch, barking at the house, a sign that she wanted to be inside, away from whatever was coming.  Jackson could see what he thought was a bear emerging from the mist, but it was an odd bear—he thought, no matter how hard it was to believe, that it was a polar bear.  He didn’t know what to think or do.  Should he run?  Should he go back inside?  Then he saw the it wasn’t a bear at all, but a dog, a very large dog—almost as big as his “pups.”  The dog was as white as the driven snow and it seemed frightened.  Jackson squatted down and called to it.

“C’mere baby, c’mon.”

The dog was friendlier than he thought, and it rubbed up against him and then immediately licked his face.  It was almost like the dog knew that Jackson had hurt himself not too long ago.  As Jackson ran his hands through the dog’s coat, he noticed that it had ice blue eyes that were very piercing.

“Who do you belong to buddy?”

Jackson asked as he felt around the dog’s neck for a collar.  The tags read, “My Name’s Ruby, I’ve had all my shots, and my owner is Regina Launderson, 4031 Saints Way, Concord MA.”

“Concord MA, isn’t that Massachusetts?  Well, you’re a very long way from home buddy.  How’d you get to Pennsylvania?”

“Ruby!”

A voice called out from the dark.  Ruby turned around to face the direction of the voice, and Jackson stood up and snuffed out his cigarette.  Ophelia started to bark again, so Jackson put her back in the house and went back to Ruby.  The voice called out again.

“Ruby, where are you?  C’mere sweetie!”

It was a woman’s voice.  Like the dog did, the woman seemed to form out of the fog and walk towards Jackson.  Ruby started barking at her owner and ran towards her in excitement.  By now the woman was close enough for Jackson to meet her halfway and introduce himself.

“Ruby, baby, here you are!”  She knelt down, ruffled the dog’s fur, and hugged her.

“You should know better than to run off like that little girl,” She said in a mock scold.
“You’ve got a very beautiful dog there,” Jackson said to the woman.

As she stood up Jackson noticed that she was a tall woman, not much shorter than his six-feet, and exuded beauty.  Her hair was long and black as the night, and her skin was milk white.  The first thing that Jackson thought of was Snow White.  Her dress only accented her body more.  It was a deep purple that flowed as if it was draped over her body, and Jackson thought that she was rather dressed up.

“Thank you,” The woman said.  “I’ve just gotten back from a business dinner and when I got back my Ruby was gone—nearly scared me to death.  We just moved here, so I thought she went running off back to Mass.”

“Well, she seemed to just be scoping out the neighborhood. You don’t have to worry, people around here look out for one another. Someone would have spotted her. It’s hard to miss a dog so, well, white.  By the way, I’m Jackson,” He said, extending his hand to her.

“It’s a pleasure, I’m Regina. I don’t believe that I’ve seen you in the neighborhood yet,” she said as she pulled a silver cigarette case out of her purse and opened it with a click.  Contained inside of it were cigarettes so thin and long that they looked like matchsticks.  As Jackson struggled to get out his lighter for her, she threw her hair over her opposite shoulder and thanked him for the light.

Her eyes were a hypnotic emerald green, and Jackson couldn’t take his eyes off of them.  For no reason clear to him, the next thought in Jackson’s head was of the sirens in the Homer’s Odyssey. Her eyes sang to him while Ophelia and Hamlet howled of impending danger.

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