Dingos Surrounded the Baby, but Something Older Watched From the Ridge

Frame Twenty-Five

Tom looked over the pictures late that night. He went through them one frame at a time, changing the brightness and zoom. It wasn't the dingoes that scared him; it was Elsie. In the last frame, she stared at somewhere far away, past the animals and away from Clara's approach.

He hadn't seen it before because he was looking at the other prints. He told Clara to come in. She looked at the picture and then shook her head. "She was looking at something else." Tom thought for a moment. "Or someone." They went back to the crib. One of Elsie's arms was wrapped across her chest while she slept. But her eyelids were twitching.

The Hill Behind the House

Clara packed a thermos and her binoculars the next morning and ascended the ridge behind the home. The wind from previous night made the ground soft, yet it still held footprints. She went along a different path than the dingoes did. This one has a longer stride and thinner toe pads. It made a low outcrop that looked out over their backyard. Anyone or anything may have seen the gully, the house, the car, and her sprinting from there. She looked out at the horizon, but there was no movement or smell of fur. A ring made of tightly braided dry grass that is resting in the shadow of a nearby stone.