At 2:10 a.m., the front door opened of its own volition and Thor stepped out. He walked down the little path, as if in a trance, to the middle of the street and sat on his haunches. He gazed to the east.
Several moments later, a pair of headlight beams from a car appeared over the rise to the east. Soon the car came into Thor’s line of vision, but the dog did not see it.
Fast approaching the dog, the Buick made a hard left, jumped the curb on the opposite side of the street, and slammed head-on into a large, thick-trunked Alligator Juniper tree. The driver’s-side air bag inflated upon impact. Steam billowed from the car’s hood.
Thor flinched at the moment of impact and snapped out of the trance he’d been in. He turned to glance across the street where the car had smashed into a tree.
Sean rubbed his neck with the palm of his hand. He looked in his rearview mirror and saw a black medium-sized dog get off its haunches and stand on all fours.
“That mangy mongrel again,” Sean said, then shouted, “What are you trying to do? Get yourself or someone else killed?”
Thor sprinted across the road and up the little walk to his front door, which had been left ajar. He nudged the door open wider with his snout and sauntered into the house.
“Damn dog,” Sean said.
He eased himself out of the car. He let out a tired, exasperated sigh and wiped his forehead with his palm. He took a deep breath, then exhaled. He pulled out a cell phone from inside his shirt pocket and thought about calling Triple-A first. But then he thought better of it and dialed 911.
“What is your emergency?” the 911 operator said.
“Uh, my car crashed into a tree,” Sean said. “I was traveling west on Sierra Linda Drive in Knollwood Meadows and there was a medium-sized black dog sitting in the middle of the road. So, I swerved to avoid hitting the dog and my car jumped a curb and hit a tree.”
“Did you sustain any injuries, sir?”
“No, I’m fine. No injuries or anything like that. Just shaken up. There’s no need for an ambulance, thanks.”
“Is there anyone else with you, sir?”
“No. Just me.”
“All right, I’m going to dispatch an officer to meet with you so you can file a police report.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Sean hung up and walked to the back of his car and looked at the Bryants’ house. He noticed the porch light was off as well as all of the lights within the house. He looked both ways up and down Sierra Linda Drive, then crossed the street and walked up the little path toward the front door. The door was still open. He stopped a few feet from the door and hesitated a moment, not sure what to do next, whether to ring the doorbell, knock on the door, or call out to see if anyone was awake. He could not tell whether anyone was home.
Thor came to the front door, barked a few times, and wagged his tail. He did not growl or bare his teeth.
Sean took a few steps back and prayed that the dog wouldn’t jump out and maul him.
“It’s okay,” Sean said with his hands raised. “It’s all right.” He put down one arm with caution and reached out a finger to press the doorbell. He flinched in surprise with a sharp intake of air as all the lights on the ground floor flashed on and off, but not on the second floor. The lights stopped flashing.
“What the heck was that all about?” Sean wondered aloud. “Easy,” he said to the dog. “Stay. Stay.”
Sean turned from the front door and walked down the little path to the street, then crossed the street to his car. He walked around the front of his car and inspected the damage, then leaned against the passenger’s side.
In a few minutes, a pair of headlight beams appeared over the rise and a black-and-white cruiser came into view.
Sean flagged down the cruiser, which pulled over and parked in front of the tree where Sean’s totaled Buick had smashed into it.
The blue-and-red strobes flashed to caution any oncoming traffic. Two officers got out of the car and approached Sean.
One officer’s badge identified him as Officer Westbrook and the other as Officer Miller. He held a flashlight in one hand and aimed it toward Sean and the Buick. “How can we help you, sir?”
“Uh, there was a dog in the middle of the road,” Sean said, “and I swerved to avoid it and smashed into this tree.”
Officer Miller checked the front of the Buick. “Anyone hurt?”
“No,” Sean replied. “There’s no one here but me. I saw the dog get up and go into that house over there.” He pointed to the house. “The door is open—actually ajar—but I don’t know if anyone’s home or if they’re sleeping. All the lights are off.”
“Did you knock or ring the doorbell or call out?” Officer Westbrook asked.
“I rang the doorbell, but all the lights downstairs flashed on and off for several seconds. I don’t know what that was about.”
“Could be an anti-burglar system to scare away prowlers and burglars.”
“Well, I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
“Always a first time, eh?” Officer Miller said with a mischievous smile. “Well, your car’s definitely totaled, from what I can see.”
“I’ve got Triple-A,” Sean said, “and I can call for a tow truck. I live about six or seven miles from here.”
“Have you been drinking, sir?” Officer Westbrook asked.
“I had a few drinks and some food at the Knollwood Tavern. I was heading home from there.”
“All right. Could you stand here for a moment, please, sir?”
Sean stood where Officer Westbrook pointed and flashed the light in Sean’s face. He squinted from the bright light.
Officer Westbrook could see that Sean’s eyes were a little red. “Could I see your driver’s license and registration, please?”
“Sure.” Sean reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet and flipped it open to show Officer Westbrook his driver’s license. “The registration papers are in the glove compartment.”
“All right.”
Sean reached into the car, opened the glove compartment, and withdrew the registration papers, then handed them to Officer Westbrook, who glanced at them.
“Thank you, sir,” Officer Westbrook said. He gave the papers and the wallet back to Sean who put the wallet back in his rear pants pocket and tossed the registration papers on the driver’s seat.
“We’re going to give you a breathalyzer test,” Officer Westbrook said, “and have you walk a straight line and touch your finger to your nose.”
Sean's blood alcohol content was lower than the legal limit of 0.08% in the state of California. He also succeeded in walking a straight line without faltering and touched his finger to his nose.
“All right, my partner and I are going to go check out the house and see if anyone’s home,” Officer Westbrook said. “Please come with us.”
They crossed the street and walked up the little path toward the front door.
“There’s a dog in the house,” Sean said.
Both officers nodded in acknowledgment.
Thor came to the front door and barked a couple times.
Officer Miller pressed the doorbell and the lights on the ground floor flashed on and off for a several seconds. “This doesn’t look like an anti-burglar system to me,” he said. “They’re doorbell signalers for deaf people.”
“It sure startled me the first time when I rang the doorbell,” Sean said.
“I have an idea,” Officer Miller said. He walked down the path toward the street. “Let’s flash our lights at the upstairs windows and see what happens.”
Officer Miller and Officer Westbrook stepped away from the front door and went toward the sidewalk. They turned on their car’s two five-hundred-watt spotlights and aimed the beams of light at the upstairs windows. They waved them back and forth in the hopes of gaining someone’s attention.
After a few minutes, Officer Miller saw a curtain pull aside in one window. “At least someone’s home.”
A light in one window came on, then a light in the other window. The living room lights came on, and they saw a man, a woman with a baby cradled in her arms, a teenaged boy, and a teenaged girl, all clad in pajamas. They had expressions of concern and curiosity.
“Are you deaf?” Officer Miller asked in sign language.
“Yes,” the Bryants signed as they nodded.
“Okay,” Officer Miller signed with a nod. “I know fingerspelling and some sign,” he signed to them. He turned to speak to Officer Westbrook, signing at the same time so that the family would know what he said. “I took some sign language classes in adult school a few years after I graduated from high school.”
He turned to the Bryants. “Please pardon me if I’m not very fluent in sign language,” he continued signing. “I haven’t had much practice, so I’m more or less signing impaired, if you get my meaning.” He flashed them an affable grin.
Nathan, Josslyn, Caden, and Trina smiled in return. They started to relax.
“We understand,” Josslyn signed.
“They understand,” Officer Miller translated for Officer Westbrook and Sean.
“Just go a little slow for me, okay?” he signed to Josslyn and Nathan, who nodded. “Uh, this gentleman here—” Officer Miller gestured to Sean “—said that there was a black dog sitting in the middle of the road, and he swerved to avoid hitting the dog and crashed his car into that tree across the street.”
“Oh, no!” Josslyn signed.
“Which black dog was it?” Nathan signed, though he already suspected Thor.
“This gentleman thinks it might be your dog,” Officer Miller said, “because he witnessed the dog get up and go into your house.”
“But how did the dog get out?” Nathan signed. “The door was closed and locked and our security system was turned on.”
“Well, somehow, some way, the dog got out, because the driver of that car saw it sitting in the middle of the road.”
“Are you sure it was a dog?” Josslyn signed.
“The lady wants to know if you’re sure it was a dog that you saw?” Officer Miller asked Sean.
“Yes,” Sean said with a nod and pointed his finger at Thor. “It was that dog. Black and medium-sized and I saw it go into the house when it got off the street.”
“I’ll bet it was that spirit,” Josslyn signed at high speed to Nathan and hoped Officer Miller didn’t catch what she said. “Probably made itself appear as Thor. Remember, it’s a shape-shifter.”
“I’m sorry,” Officer Miller signed. “I didn’t catch part of what you just said. Could you slow down and repeat what you said?”
“Hold on,” Officer Westbrook said. “I need to ask them if there’s anyone else in the house besides them.”
“My partner wants to know if there’s anyone else in the house besides you guys?” Officer Miller signed to Nathan and Josslyn, who shook their heads in response.
Officer Westbrook pointed at an upstairs window. “Well, I flashed my light in the window on the second floor, and I just saw someone standing there. Someone just pulled the curtain aside and then let go of it.”
Officer Miller interpreted what Officer Westbrook had just said.
“Our house,” Josslyn signed with hesitation, “is haunted.”
“Your house is what?” Officer Miller asked. “Scary? Has a monster in it?”
“No,” Josslyn signed. “Our house is haunted. There is a spirit in our house, and we’ve been dealing with it for about six months now.”
“We have a paranormal research team coming to investigate our house soon,” Nathan signed. “We recently contacted them by e-mail and received a response.”
“I see,” Officer Miller signed. “I would like the name of that organization along with their contact information. I’d like to contact them for validation.”
Josslyn went into the study and brought a printout to Officer Miller. “All the information is there,” she signed.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Officer Miller said. “Sorry to bother you this late at night. Good night.”
As they walked away, Nathan closed and locked the front door and checked the security system. He saw that it had been turned off. “No wonder the upstairs doorbell signalers didn’t flash,” he signed to Josslyn.
“It was that spirit,” Josslyn signed, angry and frustrated. “No doubt about it.”
“I know,” Nathan signed as he turned on the security system. “We’ll just have Thor sleep with us in the bedroom.”
“What if the dog gets out of the house again, even while we’re sleeping?”
“We can take turns keeping an eye on the dog and sleep in shifts.”