Zachary Jedding
Ms. Bruewer
Creative Writing 1
April 3, 2014
I piloted the U-Haul through the winding roads of the
misty Rocky Mountains. The path was cracked and beaten. The roads were so worn
that there wasn’t even a median anymore. My wife Sharon sat sleeping in the
passenger seat. Her feet were on the dashboard and sunglasses were on her eyes.
Her right hand dangled lazily out the window. Traffic had slowed to a crawl.
Well, I had slowed to a crawl. We were the only ones making the excursion up
the mountain. The sun peeked through the trees and glared off the hood of the
truck. I was thinking about taking Sharon’s glasses so I wouldn’t blind myself
and crash. A crash? A crash on this road would turn into a three hundred foot
free fall. Maybe I would go and pick myself up some sunglasses later. The only
question is where do I get sunglasses around here? The only shop I had seen
since we passed the base of the mountain was a rotten shack on the side of
the road. With a name like “Crusty Clem’s Critters” I did not think I would be
buying any food from there though. There sure were a lot of critters around
here. I had seen several different kinds in the last mile aloe. Furry ones,
spiky ones, wire- haired ones, dark ones, light ones… I even saw a flat one on
the side of the road if you get me. I was also a little taken back at how
rugged this place was. All the terrain had a fierce but beautiful nature to it.
The warm reds and yellows mixed with the cool greens and blues to form a
picture book portrait. I hope this is what we wanted. Sharon had convinced me
it was.
The last stretch of road disappeared under the truck and
a dirt path took its place. It was actually more like a driveway because in a
few seconds we had pulled up at the house. I took the key out of the ignition
and the engine made a sputtering sound similar to that of a rock in a lawn
mower. I took a deep breath. The mountain air was so fresh. It was as if
everything was coated in Pine-Sol. Sharon was woken from her slumber by the
sound of the engine exploding. She stepped out of the cab and let out a yawn
that sounded like a whale song.
“WHHHHAAAAAAAAHHHHHHWWW!”
She belted.
I
guess sleeping for five hours while your husband drives up a mountain is
tiring. We both walked toward our new home. It was large and looming. It had a
log cabin style to it and décor to match. The backyard was mainly tall pine
trees. This place probably had been Abraham Lincoln’s vacation home. It looked
as if it were about to collapse. Before
I could say anything, my wife had already gone inside.
“Come on honey! Let’s go discover this beautiful place!”
she yelled.
“Be right there!” I replied.
What had I gotten
myself into?
I crept inside the door. The smell of rotten oak slapped
me in the face as soon as I got in.
“What is the awful smell?” I asked.
“That is the smell of new beginnings dear!” declared
Sharon.
“New beginnings needs to take himself a shower then.”
I
walked around. The animal pelts on the floors and severed deer heads on the
walls were a nice touch. I mean if we were cavemen. The hallway leading to the
dining room was filled with wood décor. Wood tables, wood lamps (and I’m sure
it’s not safe to have wood near a burning bulb), wood floors, and even wooden
walls. The architect that designed this place definitely had an affinity for
wood. I browsed the living room. It stayed true to the house’s animal skinned
tone. The whole room seemed to be centered toward the towering fireplace in the
middle of the room. Fortunately, the fireplace wasn’t made of wood. Its brick
pillars jutted out from the oaken floors like a sore thumb, but at least we
wouldn’t burn our home down. I turned to go into the kitchen and heard a shrill
screeching sound from the chimney.
“It’s haunted! I knew it Sharon! Call a priest quickly!”
I screamed in terror.
“Your overreacting love, calm down!” she pleaded.
She
then picked up a large fire-poker and shoved it into the blackness of the
chimney. What came out was beyond belief. A swarm of bats stormed out of the
abyss like a cloud of ebony smoke! We ran for our lives! Sharon ducked behind a
sofa, and I used a hanging animal pelt as a shield. The horrid things were
everywhere! Hissing and shrieking like monsters.
“Quick, open a window!” Sharon called.
I
grabbed a set of cup holders off the table and flung them at the rats with
wings. They parted for a moment and I made my move. I lunged at the window and
pushed it open. One bat was brave enough to head toward the light and the rest
followed. The last bat flapped its way out and I slammed the window shut.
Sharon and I both looked at each other.
“I think one of them
tried to steal my soul.” I said
“I’m gonna go take a
shower.”
I cranked the nozzle and waited. I half expected a stream
of blood to come out given my last bad experience. To my surprise a stream of
fresh mountain water came pouring out and I disrobed while my shower heated. I
peeked out a window… it was getting dark. Tomorrow I would have to find
somebody to come clear out the bats. I really didn’t want to live here. Sharon
wanted this quite mountain life. I was a city boy. Born and raised in South
Detroit. No joke. I liked my chimneys clean of bats and my house not to be on
top of my mountain. This was rough. I didn’t have the heart to tell Sharon how
I felt. I hoped a shower would cleanse me of my sorrows. I stepped in. The
water rushed over me like a soothing stream. I wasn’t melting so that was a
plus. I guess the shower would have to be my new escape. Just as I had started
to enjoy myself, tragedy struck. Down
from the rafters fell a finagled furry frenzy of an animal.
“AHHHHHHH! What are you?!” I shouted and ran out of the
shower.
I grabbed a robe and
dashed out the bathroom. What on earth was that? A puma? A rabbit? It fell and
didn’t move.
“Sharon! A baby werewolf just tried to shower with me!”
“You’re just traumatized from the bats dear. Go back to
your shower.”
Well
since she wasn’t going to help me I would have to do it myself. I grabbed the rusted
shovel from the fire and crept toward my bathroom which had now become a
slaughterhouse.
This was the beginning to bad horror story. Mystery beast
falls from sky, man investigates. I peeked through the bathroom door to size up
my competition. It was a rotund little creature. Rather chubby and coated head
to toe in wispy tufts of fur. I moved toward it for a closer look. Black
stripes, white face, sharp claws… raccoon. It hadn’t moved. I took some more
cautious steps forward and made my move. POKE…… nothing. POKE, POKE…… still
nothing. The fur ball wasn’t even moving. I mean not even breathing! Wait a
second… this coon was dead. That was when I first took notice of the stench. If
a garbage truck crashed into a recycling truck and a truck carrying porta-
potties, and they all fell into a sewage treatment center ten you would be left
with the odor that this little guy gave off. This was even more repulsive than
the morning breath of a ninety year old man with Halitosis. Like driving by a
cow farm after all the cows have been fed prunes and given extra strength
laxatives. The point is; it was nasty. I scooped up the carcass and gingerly
carried it outside. I stood on the porch and whipped the body into the night!
“Smell ya later friend!” I proclaimed with a smile.
Little
did I know that tossing a raccoon body into the woods would be one off the
worst mistakes of my life.
The hearth was radiating a toasty warmth and my shower
had been cleansed of all unholy demon raccoons. Life was good! Well, life was
better. Sharon and I were curled up on a deer pelt couch and swaddled in a bear
fur blanket. I was just about to lose consciousness for the night when I heard
a creaking noise outside.
“Aww are you hungry dear?” asked Sharon.
“That
wasn’t my stomach.” I replied.
We
gave each other nervous looks. It was the raccoon! He came back as a zombie and
now he was trying to eat our souls for sustenance! After a moment of silence,
we heard a bone chilling growl. Let me try to describe it for you:
GGGHHHRRROOOWWHHLLWWHHRRGGRROOOHWW! Pretty terrifying huh? Wait, it gets
better. I opened up a curtain half expecting to see a blue whale at my door. Oh
how I wish it was only a whale. Upon my porch was a monstrous looking beast!
Coated in wiry fur and rippling muscles. Its maw was stained red with blood. In
its teeth, I saw a raccoon tail. Whoops. Next time I find a coon in my shower
I’ll just smash it down the garbage disposal.
“Sharon get the gun!” I screamed.
“We don’t have a gun! You were too afraid of them to buy
one!”
“Now is not the time to point fingers Sharon! We need to
get out of here!”
The
beast was hungry. His small stinky snack was only enough to spark his
metabolism. He wanted blood. I knew we shouldn’t have used a bear pelt blanket.
It was probably his cousin. I spied the U-Haul in the distance. Could we make
it to the truck? We had to try.
“I’m going to cause a distraction and I want you to go
start the truck.”
“I can’t just leave you baby! I’m staying here with you!”
GRRRAAAAWWW! He was
getting impatient. Like he was waiting for food at a restaurant.
“You have to! This house is a death trap.”
I
kissed Sharon and leapt out the window. Why I didn’t use the door is unknown. I
banged the iron rod against the metal railing if the porch swing. It made an
evil, shrill sound. Grizzly McFatcakes came lumbering toward me and I could
feel him peering into my soul. He could smell my fear. I took a few steps back
as Sharon crept out the door. She snuck across the yard to the truck and hopped
in. She was safe but I was going to die.
I jabbed at him with the poker but he legitimately swatted it out of my hand
and snapped it in two. True story. The rusty poker lay shattered on the ground.
Shattered like my dreams of opening up my own gerbil boutique. Whoops, it’s
funny how you reveal you innermost secrets right before you die. I was
defenseless and the mammoth was closing in for the kill. He stood up tall on
his hind legs and let out one last blood curdling cry!
GRRRRAAAAAAAHHHHHHWWW! Suddenly I heard
the honk of the truck’s horn. The bear was distracted for a moment and I bolted
for the car. I never ran so fast in my life. I must have set a world record.
The world around me was a blur and before I knew it I was at the truck. I put
that sucker in gear and sped down the mountain. I could see the bear in my
mirror, sulking in defeat. The prey had outsmarted the predator. Sharon and I
gave each other big embraces. We had made it!
I noticed Sharon was on her phone on the drive
down the mountain.
“What ya doin’ babe?” I asked.
“Looking for houses in Detroit. That
place must be condemned.”
“Honestly
honey I was never fond of living in the wilderness. Now you know why.”
“I’m
sorry you felt forced to move here.”
“It’s
okay Sharon. We had to try it. At least I’m not in a bear’s stomach right now.”
We
continued driving until we got to Crusty Clem’s. What a trip this had been. Our
first night in our new home and we almost died. At least we would be able to go
back to Detroit. I marched over to Clem’s and ordered myself a fresh roasted
victory squirrel.
