The Panther

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Rotimi Shonaiya

 

      Caleb didn’t usually shower at night. The feeling of scalding water on his back helped him wake up in the morning. However, his boss complained yesterday that he keeps coming in a minute or two late, so he decided to shower before bed to cut some time. Already thinking about tomorrow, he gets out of the shower, turns off the water, and towels off. He sees them as he opens the door.

     Straight ahead, only a few feet away, two bright yellow orbs float in darkness, like two small moons in a black sky with no stars.

     ‘EYES!’ cry the Lizard in Caleb’s mind. ‘PANTHER!’

     His body freezes reflexively. His eyes and the yellow dots hanging in space are connected by an invisible line.

     ‘No, wait, that’s crazy. I’m in my apartment,’ says Logic with a chuckle. ‘Those are probably just the knobs on-’

     As his body relaxes and the light from the crack in the door softens the darkness, Caleb's eyes begin to adjust. An outline forms around the orbs, like tracing a dead body with chalk on asphalt. A tall, curved M with a shallow middle divet. A mountain with twin peaks, and two spotlights pointed at him from the summit.

     ‘That’s a fucking panther,’ Lizard and Logic calmly agree.

     Caleb finally realizes the horrifying unreality of his current situation. It took four seconds.

     The staring contest is the oldest game ever played. It is so ancient that its one rule is written in the DNA of every living creature that can see. If you look away, you lose. And in nature, losing means death. Any two fish meeting in the prehistoric ocean knew this. Those who died in duels, by sword, pistol, or otherwise, knew why they lost in their last moments. In this instant, Caleb’s body understands. What was once firm tightness, then relaxed softness, becomes sharp stillness.

     Without moving or breaking eye contact, he assesses his surroundings. He is stepping halfway out the door. His hand is still on the doorknob. The eyes do not move. His bedroom, where he left his phone, is on the right. He doesn’t know if he could make it there. The eyes do not move. ‘Maybe it’s not a panther…,’ chimes in Logic, desperate for an explanation. An escape. ‘No,’ Lizard shushes Logic, ‘That is the path to death.’

     Logic thinks:

                             No Panther                             Panther

                             Paranoid                                 Life                           Life or Death

                             Not Paranoid                Life (The eyes lower.)        Guaranteed Death

 

      The sound of something landing on the carpet snaps Caleb back to reality. You can look away without looking away. By the time he starts moving, the eyes have already crossed half the distance between them. Inches away, he can see the eyes hold no joy or sadness. They hold nothing at all.

      He slams the door shut, bracing against the wood for an impact that never comes. Suddenly, he is alone in a world made of white porcelain and fluorescent light. This is his life now.

       Caleb doesn’t notice he fell asleep until he wakes up. After waiting for what feels like forever and checking the crack under the door for shadows multiple times, he leaves the bathroom.

       There is no panther.

       The window is open.

       Thanatos, his black cat with beautiful yellow eyes, is gone.

       When he got to work that day, his boss grilled him for being even later than usual.

       Caleb quit on the spot.

~

To Bash

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       Rotimi Shoyaiya has been a writer by hobby for a long time, but this is his first attempt at submitting anything to be published.

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J. Elliott is an author and artist living in a small patch of old, rural Florida. Think Spanish moss, live oak trees, snakes, armadillos, mosquitoes. She has published (and illustrated) three collections of ghost stories and three books in a funny, cozy series. She also penned a ghost story novel, Jiko Bukken, set in Kyoto, Japan in the winter of '92-'93. Available in  Paperback and eBook on Amazon. 

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