Weekly Short Story: N. by Stephen King

No, the above article title doesn't contain a typo: the story I'm discussing today...actually more of a novella than a short story...is N., appearing in what I consider to be one of Stephen King's best collections of his short fiction: the 2008 Just After Sunset.  When I first read it right after the book came out, I knew right away that this was a classic, and I hold firm to that conclusion.  The abbreviated title refers to a Maine psychiatrist's coded reference in his notes to a patient of his...what happened to that patient, along with the reason that Dr. John (or Johnny) Bonsaint's papers are now in the hands of his sister Sheila, form the launching pad for this venture into the sometimes murky distinction between what one perceives and what is really out there.  You see, Johnny has committed suicide and Sheila is desperately searching for his reasons when she comes across N.'s story, which the author proceeds to relate...

In a typically "Stephen King" creepy part of rural Maine, along a winding river, lies Ackerman Field, hard to get to and even harder for N., who while photographing the rustic scenery stumbles upon the field, which is beyond a gate with a NO TRESPASSING sign.  Drawn somehow by the field beyond, he goes past the barrier and sees eight vertical stones sticking up out of the ground in a rough circle.  Wait, or is it seven stones...and is that dark presence within them simply an optical play on his eyes?  N. looks through his camera lens and once again sees eight stones...and the darkness is gone.  Looking with his own eyes, he sees eight again...and thus begins an inexorable chain of increasing obsessive compulsive behavior designed to keep the number at eight, lest the evil thing within escape into our universe...and N. is convinced that it, along with other unspeakable monsters following behind, would then devour our reality...

Stephen King masterfully displayed the actions and inner thinking of someone afflicted with full-blown, life-disrupting OCD.  Throughout the experiences of N., it's never completely clear as to how much of what he is perceiving is coming from him and how much is objectively real.  But one thing is certain: either his obsessive-compulsiveness or that causing it is very, very contagious...

N. has become one of my all-time favorite Stephen King stories. It's a combination horror story and psychological thriller of the highest order.  Sometimes an author will load up his short story collections with forgettable and shallow tales, but I've found that while I like some of Stephen King's short stories more than others, it's tales like N. that often surpass the quality of his more renowned longer works...