Dr. Pretorius's Palpably Pulpy Pish-Posh

Dr. Pretorius’s Palpably Pulpy Pish-Posh

Or is it?

After several months, with the weather becoming increasingly warmer and the frigid winter with its weekly snowstorms securely behind us, it has become clearer to me that the time is ideal for an unburdening of the soul. Certain events have transpired, dear Beverly residents, to which citizens must not turn a blind eye. Caution and wariness are the words of the day in this, the thick heat of July.

But, allow me to turn back the clocks to late January 2015, when snow was piled high along the sides of the streets of our fair city. Record snowfalls were tallied during this past Winter, with snow days abundant for the children in our district. It was during one of my daily walks around the pond that abuts Business Park X that I came upon two lads standing knee deep in the snow near the banks of said pond, peering out at the ice and snow covered body of water as in search of something.

“Lose something,” I asked, as I waded my way through the heavy powder towards them. I peered out through my bright orange balaclava to the crystalline surface of the pond, attempting to see what the two boys might be eyeing. For all intents and purposes I saw only a snow covered lake, though there was a break in the never ending pattern of alabaster there, as if a rather large stone had been tossed towards the middle of the pond, breaking through the snow and then the ice beneath.

At the sound of my voice the boys started and turned to me, their faces nearly as white as the world around them. They stumbled back towards me in an attempt to put some distance between themselves and the pond’s bank.

“Did you see it?” The words came from the boy on my left. He wore a knit Red Sox cap, a coat—more of a jacket actually—that was woefully improper for the weather, and torn jeans. His words came out as morse code through chattery teeth.

“See what,” I said, perplexed.

“Diego, you tell him.” Red Sox took another step further from the bank.

“The thing,” Diego said, and pointed to the area of the pond where the blanket of paste had been disturbed. “It came out of the pond. Broke through the ice, and the snow.”

“What did?”

“It was a crocodile,” Red Sox said. “Its snout broke through. It was all teeth and claws.”

“Bigger than that,” Diego said. “Bigger than a croc. I wouldn’t stick around if I were you.”

At this the two boys made their way, rather quickly, up the path towards New Balch Street. After they’d disappeared around the corner of the path I drew closer to the bank and pulled back my balaclava. The cold clamped down on my sweat covered brow as I peered toward that break in the white pattern, a break that I could clearly now see was an opening in the ice.

Might they have thrown a rock and were putting me on?

I tramped towards another point along the bank that brought me further out and closer to the point of concern. At first I was convinced the boys were taking me for a fool. That they’d jointly heaved a large rock or stone together as far as they could, then made up the story as two boys might.

But then I noticed the edges of said hole.

And the claw marks that were clearly visible there.

What was this Beast of Beverly?

I can tell you, between then and now I’ve spoken to more than a few residents that have seen similar signs of this abomination.

I’ll collect the information I gathered from a Mr. Jeffords of New Balch Street and his encounter with the beast that occurred in March. I’ll dispatch said information to you soon.

In the mean time be cautious. Be wary. We here in Beverly are not alone.

Should you or someone you know have knowledge of or have seen said Beast please feel free to email me with the pertinent details: drpretoriusofbeverly@gmail.com