When Rabbit Howls

by Truddi Chase

In her place behind the bangs sat a woman with apple-green eyes. The outer edges were ringed with a thin line of black and in each center was a tiny, dead-black iris. It would take Stanley years to figure out that this self was Black Katherine’s mirror-image; created to go where Black Katherine could not, to deal as Black Katherine could never deal, because her rage was too great. Black Katherine was one of the selves who would forever remain in the darkest shadows of the Tunnel, secluded and on guard. One day, in a retrospective mood, Elvira would tell Stanley that the Junkyard Dog of “Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown” fame had nothing on Black Katherine. “Are you aware,” the apple-green eyes bored right into Stanley’s, unblinking, “that there is a nun in our midst? Her name is Sister Mary Catherine, and sits clicking the beads all night and calling out, ‘Harlot!’ She prays. We can hear her. Have you any idea what Sister Mary Catherine is trying to deal with?”