The Claw at the Window

THE CLAW AT THE WINDOW
(Frog Snatcher Loose in Butler County)

The long claw-like finger grated across the window screen. Inside the two-story brick house, seven-year-old, Kristy Love moved closer to her mother, Paula as they sat on the couch together. Paula curled her legs under her and pulled her daughter even closer. They’d rented the movie The Mummy to watch and it was only half over.

Kristy asked, "What was that noise, mother?"
"What dear?"
"That, t-h-a-t sound at the window."
"Oh, probably just a branch against the screen," Paula said, turning her head to glance at the window. "I shouldn't have let you talk me into getting this movie if you're going to get scared."
"I know it's just a movie, Mom. Because monsters aren't real."

But outside a large balky figure cast a shadowy outline on the side of the house as the full moon climbed in the night sky. Long shreds of fur hung from the creature as he stood near the window. Globs of saliva dangled from his thick lips that covered green, slime, coated teeth.

The creature suppressed the urge to place his face against the screen for a closer look at the humans inside. A need so deep inside him brought him back again and again to this window more than any of the other houses in this small Kansas town.
He craved human contact. The young child especially attracted him with her long hair the color of the sly red fox and her creamy complexion that appeared as smooth as the belly of the corn-snake. Her bow shaped lips reminded him of fresh ripe raspberries.

He ached to reach out and touch her. He drew closer to the window and the coarse hair of his tree limb thick arms caught on a splinter. As the headlights of a car turned onto the street, the hairy monster jerked away, leaving some of his hair behind when he retreated. His dirty brown fur, reeking with a foul stench, blended with the shadow of the shrubs. He crouched down covering his ear; cowering away from the roar of the machine that approached.

As the car pulled in the driveway before the two story, yellow, house the hairy beast bolted away knocking over a trashcan. He crossed the yard with an awkward four-legged run. He crouched low hoping he’d be mistaken for one of the larger dogs that roamed the area.

"What was that!" Walker shouted as he scrambled from the car, making a dash for the front door with his suitcase clutched in his hand. He rang the doorbell, then fumbled for his keys.

Paula walked slowly to the door. She glanced over her shoulder at the television as she opened it. "Walker, dear, why did you ring the bell...."

Walker pushed through the doorway and slammed the door behind him.
Paula asked, "What's wrong?"
"Something was out front in the yard. When I drove up the drive, it took off," he explained.

Paula asked, "Was it a dog? It was probably just a big dog. Remember, there’s been rumors that a pack of wild dogs has been bothering the farm stock."
"No! It was too big! Large enough to be a bear...."

On hearing her father's voice Kristy hurried into the entry. "Daddy, your home. I'm so glad to see you." She pushed between her parents as they stood talking. "What did you bring me this trip? A tee-shirt?"

"Bring ya? Well..., let me think for a minute, Sugar. Where did I put it? You're going to have to search for it in the suitcase." Over his shoulder he spoke to his wife, "Get the sheriff on the phone, I want to speak to him."
Walker carried his suitcase into the living room and tossed it onto the couch.
"See if you can find it, Sugar. Daddy needs to make a phone call."

Kristy grabbed for the zipper, almost pulling the suitcase off the couch in her excitement.
Hurrying into the kitchen, Walker took the phone from his wife. He placed the receiver to his ear just in time to hear the officer.

"Sheriff's department. Sergeant William speaking. How may I help you?" the sergeant asked.

Speaking into the mouth piece, Walker said, "I want to report a large animal in the area...."
William asked, "Name please?"
"Walker T. Love."
"Address….?"
"The 600 block of Marsha Drive," he replied. He could hear a clattering sound in the background and assumed that the officer was typing on a keyboard.
"What color of dog was it?"
"It wasn't a dog, officer! It was large enough to be a bear."
"There aren't any known bears in Kansas, sir. Could it have been a cougar? We’ve had numerous reports of people turning their tame ones loose.”
"No it wasn't a cougar. It was enormous; with dark fur, no tail!"
"We should have an officer in the area shortly. Stay inside until we've cleared the area."

Kristy pulled the package out of her father's suitcase. The brown paper sack made a rustling noise as she pulled out her surprise. Kristy jumped back, dropping the large rubber frog. She laughed when she saw the metal wind-up key on the back. She realized then that the frog wasn't real. Kristy turned the key and watched the legs of the frog jerk out in a swimming motion.

Kristy skipped to the patio doors and turned on the porch light. She pushed open the screen-door and stepped out. Crossing the patio she alternately jumped then hopped on one foot then the other. She passed beyond the range of the porch light to the small wading pool. The full moon glistened on the water. Kristy twisted the metal key again and set the frog into the water. With its legs moving wildly the frog swam across the pool.

Kristy ran around the edge of the pool, picked up the frog and twisted the metal key again. She repeated this process several times, before picking up the frog and giving it a kiss on its rubbery lips.

Just then, out of the darkness of the trees the beast crept closer. Kristy looked up as the gleam of moonlight on the pool disappeared.

"Daddy this is the best pres...." she started to say then her mouth dropped opened and her eyes widened as she raised her head back. She realized that it wasn't her father standing there. She lifted her arms, with the frog still in her hands, as though to ward off the beast.

The beast, with his sharp claw like hands reached down and took the frog from the girl's hands. He raised the frog closer and closer to his mouth, his green teeth dripping saliva. Puckering his lips he gave the frog a slobbery kiss just like he'd seen the girl do moments before.

Kristy heard the slam of the screen door and turned her head in that direction.

Her father called frantically, "K-r-i-s-t-y are you out here? Where are you? K-r-i-s-t-y! Come here Sweetheart."

Kristy glanced back at the beast, but he was gone and her frog was nowhere in sight. She ran towards the lighted patio and jumped into her father's waiting arms.
Walker scooped her up and carried her inside. Then closed the door with a resounding thud and turned the dead-bolt lock.

Slowly hauling one mammoth foot after the other through the loose soil the beast returned to his lair. He plopped down on the matted pile of leaves he used for a bed. He looked down at the toy frog he held in his paw and tried to get it to move its legs. He shook it. Slapped it! The frog wouldn't jump. He slammed the frog against the cave wall and it fell onto the growing pile of toys. The cave was littered with broken toys ranging from trucks, trains, stuffed animals and thousands of dolls in all sizes. There were toys everywhere.

The monster rolled over on his stomach, burying his face down into the leaves of his bed. He howled in frustration. “They never work for me. Never! Never! Never! Maybe someday, someone will show me how they work?”

Story ID:	866
Written by:	Cynthia Jo Ross (bio, contact, other stories)
Organization:	Lens to the Past
Story type:	Fiction
Location:	Andover Kansas USA
Year:	2002
Person:	Scary Campfire Story