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Short Fat Stubby Finger Stories PRESENTS:

Episode 24

Mary was conscious of her throbbing head; of a loud, indistinguishable din constantly thundering in her ears … and a light that came and went without rhyme or reason … or any regard to the distress it was causing her.   But any comprehension regarding the origin of the pain was not yet a possibility.

   Inwardly, Mary fought with her eyes to force them to open, to see where she was … and what was happening.   But no matter how hard she tried her attempts were meeting with little success, yet something within her inner strength continued to give her encouragement.   So, at least in her mind, she sighed and took a deep breath … then over and over and over again she willed them to open.  Mentally she increased the pressure she was applying to maximum force, pushing and pulling at her belligerent eyelids with all the power her mind could muster until eventually, unexpectedly, after what seemed an eternity, they finally conceded … and her eyelids flew open exposing her eyes to a new blindness – only this time caused by the brilliance of a single light being shone directly into her eyes.

   Automatically she reacted to this intrusion of her senses by raising her right arm and using her hand to cover her eyes.   This action, in turn, caused the blurred rumbling in her head to increase.   The brilliance of the light, however, immediately subsided, and its brightness degenerated to a more subtle ambience.

   Mary lowered her hand, slowly attempting to take in her surroundings and the events that were taking place around her.   At first things seemed hazy – everything was moving in a soft fog, slowly swirling around the room, but at least she could see more now than when she had first opened her eyes.   She closed and reopened her eyes several times as she forced her mind to relax; to concentrate on the one spot.   After several more eyes closures and openings her yoga training kicked in and the room slowly came back into focus, and to her surprise she saw two faces staring down at her.   One she recognized as the garage attendant, the other was a middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed beard, and wearing black horn-rim glasses that would have been right at home on Buddy Holly or Clark Kent.  

   “Ah!   Good!   You have come back to join us.  Can you sit up?”   The man with the glasses asked in a soft, soothing voice.

   Mary tried to move, but found the going a bit painful.   Her reaction to his question had only been a grunt and the man quickly realised she was in discomfort.   He leaned forward, placed one arm behind her neck and had her adjusted to a comfortable, upright position against the wall with her pillows behind her back for support before she knew it.   The movement had been so swiftly carried out that Mary’s brain had hardly registered it and she immediately felt so much more comfortable her brain simply switched off any thought of objecting to his actions.

   “Do you remember your name? 

   “It’s Mary Cunningham.”  Mary replied without thinking.

   “That’s good – no apparent amnesia, and no concussion by the look of your eyes.   Here, take these.”  The man said as he reached into a briefcase that lay on the floor beside his feet and pulled out a small box from which he extracted two pills which he handed to Mary along with a glass of water, “They will help relax you.”

   Mary took the pills in her hand, and as she took the glass, she noticed how badly her hand was trembling and almost spilt the water.   The man with the beard also noticed, and tried to soothe her fears.

   “It all right, now.” He advised, “You appear to have fainted and hit your head as you fell.  You have been unconscious for a few hours.  These will help your body to adjust back to normality.

   Mary remained hesitant about taking the pills.   “Who are you?” She asked, the tone in her voice betraying her mistrust.

   “My name is Peter James,” he said with a smile, “and I am the local doctor.   Frank called me when he found you collapsed on the floor.  You seemed to have banged your head against something sharp judging by that indent in your skull.   Perhaps it was the nail holding up that photograph,” he suggested, pointing his finger in the direction of the accused nail, “seeing as how there appears to be blood splattered on the wall just above it.”

   Mary touched her skull, surprised to find what felt like a band-aid pressed firmly against the skin just above the bridge of her nose – then her head jerked slightly as a tremor of pain ran through it and she gave out a gasp.

   “It’s probably still very tender.  I would advise against touching it for a while if I was you.”   Doctor Jones advised, his voice still soft and caring, but for Mary, however, the doctor’s offerings seemed quite unnecessary.

   ‘It hurts, you stupid man … of course I won’t keep touching it!   Idiot!‘  Mary thought to herself angrily, somehow restraining herself from making verbal comment regarding his ignorance.   The man’s suggestion, for some unknown reason, began to gnaw away at her.   Her mind became more and more aggravated by the second.   Suddenly an uncontrolled, unreasonable rage began rolling through her entire body.   Anger so strong it appeared lava red in her mind, and like a volcano it was about to explode.   Suddenly Mary was about to unleash the fury that welled up inside her.    She was ready to lash out in in revenge for what she had been through during the unknown length of time that had been stolen from her.    She wanted revenge for the hurt, the pain, the humiliation that she had suffered.   She was ready to kill or maim, and didn’t really care who got hurt.   She had been pushed to the limit … now she wanted the world to suffer like she had.  

   But just as quickly as it had arrived, the sudden burst of anger that had possessed her soul and body disappeared.   A cold shiver ran down Mary’s back and her entire body momentarily quivered violently.   She couldn’t believe what had come over her.   This was not her normal way of behaving and it frightened her.  ‘Perhaps shock as a result of hitting her head on the nail as the doctor had suggested?’  She wondered and hoped that that was all it was.   But the thought that quivered in her mind was what had set her off?   What had happened that had made her so angry?   It was obvious to her that something had happened to her prior to her passing out, something possibly quite horrendous, but she had no idea what had really happened.

   She turned her head to where he had been pointing, not certain what he was actually talking about, but when she saw the photograph, the memories of the horror that had confronted her just before she passed out came rushing back into her mind – and she unintentionally screamed loudly, her body jerking forward with such violence that she crushed the glass in her hand, sending broken glass and water all over the doctor who reached out to restrain her. 

   Sobbing uncontrollably, Mary initially tried to fight him off, her hands flaying wildly in the air, almost scratching the doctor’s face in her moment of madness, but the fear subsided almost as fast as it had arrived, and she relaxed back on the pillow. “I’m sorry.   I’m fine now, thank you.” Mary managed to get out between the diminishing sobs,   “I just need to catch my breath.”

   The Doctor gently unrolled her fingers from the remainder of the glass that she still had clenched in her hand, and removed the broken fragments.

   “Quite amazing,” Doctor James said in a surprised tone of voice, “You don’t seem to have done any damage to your hand. You are extremely lucky!”

   He went back to the sink and obtained a fresh glass of water, which he then handed to her, indicating with his eyes for her to uncurl her other hand.   It took Mary a few seconds to realise what he was trying to tell her.   And once she understood, she was beginning to think that she really did need some form of relaxant.   Rather reluctantly, Mary unfolded her clenched fist, took possession of the glass and swallowed the pills that she had been holding on to so tightly.

   “They won’t put you to sleep.”   The doctor explained as if reading her mind,    “In fact you will hardly notice their effect, which is why you are taking them. They are merely to help your body relax.” “Do you have any idea of what happened that caused you to pass out?”

   Mary took a deep breath and paused to think for a moment, inwardly wondering whether she would appear to be some kind of a lunatic if she told them about the face in the photograph, about the knife that the creature had stabbed her with, how it had tried to kill her?   ‘Probably.’ she finally decided, “Maybe I did imagine it?  But the wound to my head is real, isn’t it?’  She argued defensively to herself, ‘Did I only imagine the whole thing?   Did I just simply go too close to the picture and perhaps lost my balance?   It had seemed so real at the time, but now … ?’   

   Mary finally decided to be quiet about her thoughts for the moment, her instincts advising her that it would be prudent to be cautious about who she spoke to until she had time to collect her thoughts and think the whole nightmare through.  

   Right at this very moment Mary was completely uncertain of what had really happened, and regardless of what his profession was, Doctor James was still a stranger to her.   If she got the chance she would question the garage attendant, whose name she now knew to be Frank, on everything she could think of before committing her mind to any future action she might take.   She felt safe in her decision to only talk to Frank.   He had been there when it had happened, though he might not have actually seen anything.   But he had been the one that had found her, and he was not offering any suggestion to the doctor as to what might have happened.   Mary decided that if Frank was keeping mum about anything he had seen – then she really should do the same thing.   At least until she had a chance to find out why he was saying nothing.    Did he not trust the doctor… or was it something else?  She would just have to wait and see.

   “No!   I can remember looking at the photograph, then something touched my shoulder, and that is the last thing that I can remember.”   Mary replied, noting to herself that her reply was partly true. 

   “Ah! That would have been me.”   The garage attendant spoke for the first time since she had regained consciousness,   “When I came back inside you were laying face down on the floor.  I checked for your pulse – then rang the doc here.  When he arrived, we both lifted you onto this old canvas bed fold-up.   An old war relic that is, been here since nineteen forty four I’ve been told.   You were lucky that I had it in the back of the store otherwise you would still be on the floor, and that would be no fit place for a lady.”

   His cheeky smile brought a reciprocal return from Mary.   The pill was working quickly, and already Mary was feeling like her old self.   She tried to get herself off the stretcher and the doctor reached out to help her.

   “Do you feel well enough to move?”

   “Yes.   At least, I think that I do.”   Mary replied, though her voice reeked of uncertainty.    With the doctor’s help she got up, but after a couple of seconds she found that she was still a bit unsteady on her feet.

   Frank magically appeared with an old chair, quickly placing a clean towel on it before she sat on it.

   “Thank you.”   Mary said as she made herself comfortable.   Mary found sitting in a chair felt a lot better than leaning back against the wall … and certainly a mile away from the discomfort of lying down and talking up – still she would have rather have been on her feet.   Looking up to people always gave her a feeling of intimidation and she despised that feeling, however, under the current circumstances she felt that it was something that she would need to endure – at least for a little while longer.

   “Fancy a cuppa, miss?”   Frank asked.

   “Yes, please. That would be lovely.”   Mary replied gratefully.

   Frank wandered off to the back of the room while the doctor leaned against the wall, folded his arms, and looked at her.

   “Comfy?”  He asked.

   Mary nodded her agreement.

   “And you can’t remember anything else?”

   “No.”

   “You are absolutely certain?”

   “Yes!” The snappiness in Mary’s reply was not lost on the doctor.

   “I am sorry if I sound a bit sceptical.   It was just that your reaction to my suggestion regarding how you may have hurt your head was a bit stronger than I would have expected – considering the fact that you couldn’t remember anything.”

   “You mean when I screamed?”

   “Yes.”

   “Sorry. I just feel a bit testy at the moment. It’s not every day that I find myself lying down on a strange cot in a country garage, with two men hovering over me.”  Mary said with a shy smile she had conjured up in the hope he would get off the subject lest she accidentally let slip with the truth.

   “That’s understandable.   Well if you are  feeling better, I’ll be on my way.”  The doctor reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a card, “Will you be in town for long?”

   “I was going to have a look at the Forster Farm when I get directions.”   Mary offered with some reservation.

   “The Forster farm …”   The doctor’s eyebrow’s raised slightly, “well, be careful won’t you.  It seems that it has already been a dangerous place for you to visit.”

   “Sorry?”   Mary asked, having no idea what he was talking about.

   “The photograph on the wall, where it looks like you hit your head, that’s Forster Farm.”

    “My God!  Is it?” Mary’s head spun around and faced the photo so fast that it made her dizzy.

    “There have been some strange happenings going on up there lately, so I really would be careful if I were you.”

   “I was telling her about it.” Frank had returned with a teapot, some milk, sugar, and three mugs, which he placed on a bench, and began to pour the tea.   “At least I was, until I got a customer.   By the time I got back, she seemed to have lost interest and had gone off to sleep.”   He laughed at his own little joke, but Mary thought he did well enough to raise a light smile on her face.

   “None for me thank you, Frank. I must be on my way.”  Doctor James said, then, turning to Mary, handed her the card, “It will be in your own interest to have a check up with your regular doctor when you return home.   In the meantime, here is my phone number in case you feel that you are having any delayed reactions before you leave.   Otherwise it has been a pleasure meeting you.”

   “Thank you, Doctor James.”   Mary replied.  “I will follow your advice.”

   Doctor James picked up his bag and began to leave when he paused for a second, then turned around to face Mary.   “You know, the one thing that I found strange was that, although all indications point to the nail being responsible for the damage to your head, the actual shape of the cut looks more like the point of a knife, than the flat end of a nail.”   With that he shook his head in a lack of understanding, and departed.   Mary bit so hard on her lips to prevent herself from reacting that she drew blood.

   “Are you ready for your cuppa, Miss?”  Frank asked as the doctor disappeared through the door as he headed for his car and Mary was grateful Frank’s words caused an immediate interruption to the thoughts that were beginning to form in her mind.

   “Thank you, Frank. The name is Mary by the way.”

   “Hello, Mary – pleased to meet you … sugar?” 

   “Yes, two please.”

   “And milk?”

   “Please.”

   “White, with two sugars; coming right up.”

   “Frank …”

   “Yes, Mary?”

   “Just before I fainted … did you see anything unusual in the room?”

   Frank did not reply immediately, instead he simply looked at her.   Mary could see his indecision to answering or not swirling though his eyes, but she said nothing.   She sensed he was having trouble with something inside his mind, something that looked like it was arousing fear judging by the darkness that appeared to be exuding from his eyes, and she wondered if she too should be feeling frightened, but she decided it would be preferable to be patient.  She was certain Frank would open up once he had sorted his mind out.

********

   Several seconds passed before Frank finally spoke, his words coming out with agonizing slowness and lack of clarity. “I saw something …something that …I saw….” Frank went quiet, his eyes now firmly planted on the cup of tea that he was stirring.

   Mary’s mouth dropped open at Frank’s revelation that something had been in the room with her, but she forced herself to retain the calmness in her voice as she spoke. “You saw what, Frank?   What did you see?”

   Frank stopped his stirring and raised his eyes to face Mary, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I saw the Devil trying to kill you.   That’s what I saw and that’s why I pulled you out of harm’s way.”

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