Orenda Prologue Two ... February, 1911

- FEBRUARY, 1911

"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, I baptize thee John Albert Sullivan the Fourth." The minister intoned, marking the sign of a cross on the infant's forehead with his dripping index finger. A few drops of the anointing water trickled into the infant's blond forelock, staining it a darker shade. The baby did not cry.

His mother beamed, and took the child from its father's strong arms.

"He's safe now," She breathed. She made no attempt to hide her relief that the child was now safe from the clutches of hell. She was a deeply religious woman.

"Safe from the inferno of hell, perhaps," Her husband said, "But it'll take more than a dab of holy water to protect him from the evils of this world." He smiled at his pretty wife, and the overwhelming pride he felt in his son shone from his green eyes.

"He's a Sullivan, so he'll do all right." The minister said. "It runs in the family!" He was fond of these people, especially John, who was generous almost to a fault.

"We'd best get along now. We don't want little John Albert to come down with a fever, do we?" Alicia Sullivan more asked than stated.

"Right you are, as always. Bundle him up good, and I'll carry him," John said.

Clutching the precious, heavily swaddled bundle high on his chest, John followed Alicia through the door of the cathedral and into the cold night. In the distance, the lights of downtown Baltimore cast a glow on the swirling, snow-choked atmosphere. Although they were not far from the center of the city, it was silent. The snow muffled the clopping sounds of horses pulling carriages. Even the outrageous popping noises made by the few motor cars which ventured forth this frigid night, seemed to be far away; not part of their silent, beautiful world.

The Sullivans decided to walk the few blocks to their large, two-story home. It would be a long wait for a cab; and in truth, they enjoyed walking together in the freshly fallen snow. It was pure and virginal; not yet tarnished by the soot of Baltimore's chimneys.

As they strolled slowly through a still and silent world, the clouds which had deposited this fresh snowfall passed over, and softly, gently, the number and intensity of the flakes drifting around them slackened, and finally ceased falling altogether. When they passed under the occasional gaslight, the snow glittered as if someone had strewn handful after handful of jewels into it. The new snow was piled high on the limbs of the mammoth Oaks which lined the streets. Their branches arched overhead, forming a tunnel of diamond-studded white through which the Sullivans happily passed.

From the snug homes they passed, lights splintered and refracted into all the shades of a spring rainbow, shining through frosted panes of glass; adding to the dazzling display of the winter bejeweled wonderland. Smoke rose lazily from myriad chimneys, puffing and swelling as it entered the cold night air. The sky was beginning to clear, and with the passing of the clouds, stars began to glitter in the sky, adding their frail light to the reflections in the snow. Soon the moon would rise, and it would be as bright as day, this night.

"My God! Look at that!" John paused, and pointed to a large indentation in the snow.

"What is it, dear?" Alicia asked, pausing beside him.

"It's an animal print. Must be a dog, but just look at the size of it!" John shook his head at the idea of someone allowing an animal of this tremendous size to roam the city streets.

"Hate to meet up with that fellow when he's hungry." John said, resuming the walk home. He picked up the pace a bit.

"I don't remember seeing any really large dogs in this neighborhood." Alicia said thoughtfully, "And I walk through here all the time on my way to market."

"Hummmmh. Could be kids trying to play a prank." John said, almost to himself, pausing again to peer at another of the immense prints. He leaned over this one, and spread his hand inside the track. It was nearly double the size of his extended fingers. Suddenly, he chuckled. "Probably those Janssen rascals." His chuckle changed to an outright laugh.

Alicia looked at him questioningly. "What is so funny?" She asked.

"Hunh! I'm sure it's a prank now. Look here," He pointed it out for his wife, ". . .The right print is of a large animal, a bear I presume from the size of it, and the left is of a man." He pointed the line of tracks out to his wife, and chuckled again. "I'll bet it's those Janssen boys. . .put a lot of effort into this one. Probably got a stuffed bear paw somewhere, and one of them has a mighty cold left foot right now!"

John followed the line of tracks with his eyes, and saw that they entered a small stand of tall, dark green Spruce trees that sheltered the corner of the street where he and Alicia would turn left; to walk one more short block to their home.

"Here, take the baby. I'm going to give those rascals the scare of their young lives." He handed the infant to his wife, who objected that John was a bit old for this nonsense. She knew from the glitter in his eyes that protest was useless, however, and reached out for the baby.

"Oh, Alicia, don't worry. Someone needs to teach those little devils a lesson. One of these days their pranks are going to scare an old woman, or someone with a faint heart, into an early grave! I'm just going to sneak up behind them, and scare a bit of the devilment out of their young hides." With that, he left the sidewalk, and angled across the front lawn of the house directly to their left. He slipped behind the house, and proceeded through the three remaining back yards to the corner.

Alicia hesitated a few moments, but when the baby began to squirm, resumed her progress toward the trees on the corner. She frowned in irritation at her husband's boyish antics, and patted the baby's heavily swaddled head.

John slipped along the side of the house which stood on the corner where the spruce stand was located. He peered into the group of trees, but could not see any movement. He imagined the two boys, hands clasped tightly over their mouths so that an inadvertent giggle did not give the prank away. He noted that the snow on the bottom-most boughs had been knocked off, and trampled with the rest of the white covering under the trees. John looked at Alicia slowly making her way along the sidewalk, and decided to time his 'attack' to coincide with her coming abreast of the trees. He was sure that that was when the Janssen boys intended to spring out and scare the daylights out of their victim. Stealthily, John eased to the corner of the house.

Alicia continued along the sidewalk, steeling her nerves for the inevitable disruption of the peacefully silent night. She did not like the idea of being startled, especially with little John Albert in her arms. She knew it would shock her, even though she was aware that it was coming, so she clutched the infant a little tighter to her. She saw her husband come dashing from the side of the corner house.

John was bellowing at the top of his lungs. Alicia halted, and peered into the dark crevasse underneath the snow laden boughs of the spruce trees. Just before her husband bounded into them, she saw two gleaming red pinpoints of light under the lowest branches. They flashed sideways, a red blur, as whatever was lurking in there turned to face her charging husband.

"Alright, you little scalaw. . ." She heard John's voice, then ". . .Unnhhhh!" Then a prolonged thrashing noise under the trees.

"John" She called, alarm rising in her tone.

John, charging into the trees at full tilt, had been surprised by the blow which came from below him. The paw had caught him square in the mouth, snapping his head back while his feet continued onward. and he was knocked to the ground. He felt blood oozing from his lower lip. Angry now, John leaped up from the snow, and reached into the thickly needled boughs with both arms outstretched, feeling for the two teen-aged boys he was sure were in there.

"You've gone too far this time. I'll teach you a lesson you won't soon forget!" He cried. "I'm going to give you both a proper thrashing!" He felt a strong hand clamp over his left forearm, just below the elbow, and he was jerked effortlessly into the trees. Suddenly he was staring directly into a set of burning red eyes, and realized that this was no prank by the Janssen boys.

"Run, run!" He screamed, as the left arm of the beast came up toward him. He pulled at the hand that was holding him, trying to spin away and escape. He could not budge the iron grip.

Alicia, hearing her husband's horrified admonition, ran across the street towards a house where brightly lit windows contrasted with the now fearful darkness of the spruce stand. She clutched John Albert tightly to her breast. Halfway up the front steps of the house, she stumbled and fell, and the baby was flung from her arms. It skidded across the porch in the snow, and came to rest against the front door. Alicia dove for the baby, and shoved it aside from the opening door; which could easily have broken its neck. As the porch was flooded with light, she heard John scream again. The keening wail went higher and higher in octave, but lower and lower in volume, until it tapered off to a whimper.

"Sweet Christ!" The man who had opened the door said, and disappeared back inside. Alicia stood on the porch on her tip toes, straining to see what was happening in the stand of trees across the street.

John, unable to free himself from the creature's grip, flailed at the red eyes with his free hand. He saw the hairy paw coming up, its long, yellowed claws almost translucent against the snow. He watched them enter the soft flesh of his belly, and begin knifing upwards, towards his chest. He began screaming when he saw his entrails falling into the snow, dappling its pure white with red. With one last, convulsive jerk, John freed himself from the fingers of the monster, and fell backwards into the cushioning snow. In his right hand, he gripped a tuft of long, black hair.

In his peripheral vision, John saw the beast scrabbling away, low to the ground, moving almost crablike through the fresh snow. He saw a man running towards him, a rifle raised in the direction of the beast. He heard the loud report of the weapon, but his eyes were failing, and he could not tell if the man had hit his target.

Alicia was on her knees in the bloody snow beside him, sobbing hysterically. John's last sight was of his baby son, face contorted with rage at being treated so rudely. John extended his right arm upward, trying to touch the baby's face, but he didn't have the strength, and the arm fell limply into the red stained snow.