Except that Officer Reilly wasn’t cramped, nor was it pitch-dark about him. Just starting his nightly patrol, Reilly had all the open space of Central Park in which to amble and already the moonlight was silvering that vast expanse of green.
It was the moon that attracted Reilly’s notice. It was taking up a whole side street, over there to the east of the park, as if all the traffic lights in Manhattan had been rolled into one big yellow ball and hung there, saying “Caution.”
It wouldn’t have surprised Reilly if the moon had switched to red or green, the way all traffic lights did, after hovering on yellow. For Reilly had a strong dash of imagination and therefore liked to believe that the impossible could happen.
Of course if people told you of something that they’d really seen, that was different. It might be that they were right. For instance, Patrolman Reilly remembered his old aunt who had once sworn that she had seen a banshee. Therefore people found it unwholesome to argue against banshees with Reilly, because it might cast doubt upon his old aunt.
Therefore banshees came into the “seeing is believing” category where Reilly was concerned and that was why Reilly now stood stock-still.
Reilly was staring squarely at a banshee!
Outlined against the moon, the weird creature fitted banshee specifications and more. From above her shoulders streamed flowing long hair; her outstretched arms were sweeping as if her hands were casting curses upon everything within a wide enough range to include Reilly.
She was atop a rock, beyond a shrub-clustered slope that was skirted by a stony path. Below, hidden beyond the rock, lay a sizeable pool that had its outlet under a rustic bridge that Reilly crossed when covering his beat.
The path was the shortest route to the rock and Reilly would have taken it at once, except that his dread of banshees somewhat stilled his urge toward duty; but as Reilly stared, he began to wonder if this creature could be a banshee after all.
According to some authorities, Reilly’s aunt for one, banshees were fearsome hags who wore garments resembling tattered coffin shrouds. This sylvan sprite was slender and shapely, while at this distance and in the uncertain moonlight, her raiment seemed to consist solely of her flowing hair.