The Beast of 1977 (Book 1)

Chapter 24

Captain Kangaroo was conversing back and forth with both Mr. Green Jeans and Mr. Moose on the television while Isaac spoke in a low, overcast tone to his father over the phone.

Dressed in the same clothes from the night before, Isaac watched Isaiah crawl and romp about on the floor with his Fisher Price toy phone while he sipped away on his fourth cup of coffee for the morning. Isaac's mind was from the TV and drifting even further away from his son.

Every so often he would stare down at his scarred fingernails that felt as if someone had pierced each of them with sharp needles.

"Isaac, are you still there?" Mr. Mercer worriedly asked.

Shaking himself awake, Isaac replied, "I'm fine, dad. I just got a bad headache. Did the fuzz bring your car back yesterday?"

"Yeah, they brought it back last night. I think the carburetor needs replaced."

Just then, a long pause prevailed. The pause was soon followed by a moan from Isaac's father.

"Son...is everything alright with you? You sure don't sound fine."

Just judging by his father's stretched out gap in speech Isaac could sense that he was stressed over his grueling ordeal. All the young man could do was sit and shut his eyes in angst.

"Yeah, dad, I just need some time to...to work things out."

"Where's Lynn at?"

"She went out to get some more medicine for Isaiah. She said she'll be back before nine."

"Isaac, just relax and let the good Lord take care of everything. You've got a friend in him."

backwards into the couch where he was sitting and

on." He

"I get off from work at five, come down to the church and we can talk then. I'd stop by, but the car

"Okay, I'll be there." Isaac hesitantly said, sitting

"I gotta go to work

"I will, dad,"

a frightened shakiness in his father's tenor that he hadn't heard before; it startled Isaac enough

the child squealed out as he handed his

Isaac's battered face before taking the plastic receiver, holding it to

conversations were customary; Isaiah would just sit and clap his tiny hands as though a parade were trolling right through the living room. The boy was happy to

newsbreak on the television re-ran reports of the murder of the kidnapper, the dead bodies in his basement

animal could have possibly killed all seven people in one night, and just what authorities were planning on doing to capture

on the TV as the screen scrolled through every little Sanders girl. Their angelic faces were alive with euphoric vitality as their

screen. He was completely void of any emotion at that instant, as though someone had shut off a

"Here!" Isaiah blurted out, handing

appeared on the television. He remembered the generous man offering him a ride two days earlier, but what seemed

as he lifted his aching body from off the couch, "your mom wants you to take a bath

child's body, cut on the warm water and then placed his boy inside the tub. With

being wet; just splashing about in the water was all playtime for him. He knew that he should have

straight ahead at the grimy tile while listening to the little girl's scream in his head in a high pitched tone. Much like the proverbial 'fingernails across the chalkboard', Isaac couldn't help but to drown in the hellacious notion that everything that happened two nights earlier was nowhere to be found in his mind. Even the remembrances of the grueling strain of his physical transformation had ostensibly been erased, which was hard to

to children, and yet, had it not been for the TV,

of soapy water splashed into Isaac's dead face,

a habit." Isaac scolded,

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