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SHORT FAT STUBBY FINGER STORIES PRESENTS:

Episode 42

Parts 1 – 2

Part 1

Saturday morning:   “A lot busier than it was when we arrived yesterday.”   Martin commented as he joined the closest of the two lines which placed him six cars from the sole petrol bowser operating on that side of the lane, rather than the second lane where an old farm truck was the sole occupant.   Martin presumed it had something to do with the steam bellowing out of the engine through the open bonnet, though he couldn’t understand why it had been left there, rather than pushed out of the way.    However, Joseph, who had a different view of the vehicle, seemingly reading Martin’s mind, made an observation that eased Martin’s aggression somewhat.

“Whatever is wrong with that truck,”   Joseph stated off offhandedly,  “there is a massive oil leak occurring, and I can see something that I think is metal covered with oil that seems to be stuck in an upright position on the ground and going back into the vehicle.   I am certainly not going to get out to have a look with all that oil, but I am assuming  something has broken off the engine on that antique, and perhaps they can’t just move it.”

Martin looked at Joseph and shook his head in disbelief.   “And I notice that Frank is serving the customers, one at a time.”   He noted,  “My guess is that self-serve is still a long way away for Trenthamville.    However, we need those torches and I will need more petrol.   There is no way that I can get out of this queue for a while, but there is room to park once we get past the bowser.   Well, we tried our best to get a good start.   I guess that somethings can’t be helped.”   They had tried their best to leave early, but certain arrangements regarding Rosetta were needed to be put in place before they could leave for the farm, and it seemed that the unavoidable delays were quickly putting a strain on their time agenda.   They really had to find the statue today … or, at the very least, a damn good clue as to its whereabouts.  They only had two more full days left, along with the remainder of this day, to still have the agreement from the Punjani in place.   There were other things to worry them as well, but fortunately for their state of mind at the moment, there was at least one problem that they were not aware of.   Mary had arrived at the garage fifteen minutes before them and had just exited as they drove in.   This had not been in their plans.   They had intended to be at farm searching at least an hour before she arrived.   They felt it would be much safer for everybody if it was not her that found the statue, even by accident.   Certainly a problem if somebody was watching her when she found it … especially if there had been anybody watching her when she found it.   They knew too well that whoever it was that had attacked Rosetta and Joseph – they were not concerned who got hurt – nor how badly.

Fortunately for their current state of anxiety they were blissfully unaware that she was already on her way to the farm … and they also did not notice the long shiny black limousine with a London number plate parked out of sight at the side of the garage.   Nor did they notice the man in the driver’s seat: the short, roly-poly, driver who sat biding his time sucking slowly on a long cigar, and gently stroking his fingers across the leather steering wheel as he watched them enter the queue.

********

   Frank happened to look down the line as the top driver moved off and saw the Mercedes.   A huge grin covered his face as he indicated ‘one minute, please’ to the driver who had now moved to the head of the line and headed down towards Joseph and Martin.    “Good Morning, Martin, Joseph.   Heading out to the farm to collect the professor’s things?”  Frank asked, “I have a trailer you can use if you need one.”

“Good morning, Frank,”   Martin replied,   “Yes, we are going to the farm, and I will bear your offer in mind.    There is every possibility that we might need a trailer.   We will know more when we sort through everything.   But in the meantime we need some torches.  Do you carry them?”

“Well, I do carry torches, but I am afraid that I haven’t got the time to help you at the moment as you can see.   And poor old Harry isn’t helping matters much with his truck breaking down.   Bad spot for it to start to fall to pieces.   I won’t be able to even look at it until Tuesday, and it will first have to be towed over to the workshop and Freddy Johnson is stuck up at the motorway off ramp helping with the clean up from the big accident that took place there yesterday.   Could be there for another couple of days, he thinks, so Harry’s truck is stuck there until he gets back.    With the two lanes open I could do two cars at once.   It is always busy on a Saturday morning when everybody goes off touring, so I can usually have the cars using the lane that suits their car’s petrol cap location.   But as it is I have to keep on swapping sides to fill them for every car as they move through.    If you don’t mind, you can serve yourself for the torches and fix me up later when its a bit quieter, or down at the Rat and Mouse this evening.   Though one of you should stay in the car so you can keep moving the car up the line.    It shouldn’t take too long.   Oh, and don’t forget the batteries.   Some of the torches have been on the shelf for a while, so their batteries may be flat.   There are new batteries up the front near the cash register if you need them.   Not much call for torches around here.   Most folks just use their phones unless its a major blackout.   I only keep them in stock for emergencies and the tourists … and they don’t need them very often.”

“I’ll go in.”   Joseph volunteered, “I think I remember seeing a self serve coffee machine the other day.  Does it work, and is the coffee alright?”

“Mary liked it,”   Frank said with a grin, “I think she had three the other morning, or perhaps it was four.”

“You have sold me, Frank.   Would you like one, Martin?”

“A short black would be absolutely perfect for my head this morning.   No sugar.”

“Right, then I’m on my way.”   Joseph got out of the car with a spring at the thought a fresh, hot, latte, and disappeared into the shop in a split second.

“Well, I had better get back to my customers.”  Frank said before turning around and scampering back to his waiting customers

“Thank you, Frank.”   Martin called out to the fast moving garage mechanic as he reached forward and pressed a button, then settled back against the headrest to pleasantly absorb at least ten minutes of Beethoven and Liszt.

********

Joseph got a surprise at the huge amount of items on display in the shop and thought for a moment that he might actually be in a corner shop in London, rather than a rural garage.

But then he noticed the coffee machine, its guarantee that a latte was made on fresh milk, and his priorities moved into place …  less than a minute later a joyful smile covered his face as he sipped on the warm, exquisite tasting, liquid.   He had decided that it would be of no use for him to make Martin’s coffee immediately.   That would place an encumbrance on his maneuverability.   It was something that could easily be done once he had completed his mission and located the torches.   In the meantime he had a chore to do that required two hands.  One to eventually retrieve the appliance from its resting place and test its batteries, and the other to lift the sweet elixir of life to his mouth.

Now, happy and content with life, Joseph looked around the room in search of his treasure.    There were eighteen racks in total, nine per side, all covered in a wide variety of hang sells and shelves, and divided by a pathway that merged with a large open space at the far end of the room.

The racks closest to the front seemed only to offer sweets, chocolates and a variety of papers and magazines.   Joseph gave his search plan a two second once over in his mind and decided that he would be better off starting at the bottom racks.   Frank had mentioned that they weren’t prime sellers, so it was only fair to assume that low selling items would not be given prime display locations.

Sipping on his coffee, Joseph wandered down the middle of the aisle and turned to the rack on his right once he reached the last row … and was instantly rewarded as he saw a small selection of torches on display at the far end of the first rack that he looked down.

Joseph immediately moved towards his quarry and was beginning to raise a large,  rubber covered, torch from its hang nail, when an intense flash of sharp light caught the far corner of his eye.   Instinct caused his head to spin sharply around to find the source of the light and it was at this stage that Joseph realised that the large open area at the back of the shop was in fact an L-shaped extension of the garage workshop that ran parallel with the shop on the other side of the long wall.   But there was no light similar to the one that had attracted his attention showing anywhere in this end of the room.   Nor did the room seem conducive to such a light in this area.   There were only overhead neon lights in the ceiling, and solid brick walls surrounding the interior in this area.   There were certainly opportunities for sharp streaks of light to reflect from the outside and penetrate the front end of the room, but certainly nothing that could reach the area that Joseph was viewing.

Then, unexpectedly, the flash reoccurred and Joseph was surprised when he realised the sharp white light had emitted from an A4 sized, unframed, photograph nailed loosely against the garage wall.    And to add to his curiosity he was absolutely certain that the light was pulsating.    He couldn’t make out the details of the photograph itself from this distance, but he was absolutely certain that a light was throbbing right in the middle of it.   And the more he looked at it, the more he thought it looked so odd and out of place where it had been put up on show.    His curiosity aroused, Joseph tested two torches, found that they both worked, placed one under one arm and one in his hand so he could carry both and still sip on his coffee, and then walked over to have a better look at the photo.  And as he cast his eyes over it, it seemed to Joseph that it really was a strange place to display a photo, never mind such an apparently bad one as this, and that alone instantly increased his curiosity.   He really needed to know the reason for displaying it.

The picture had at first seemed out of focus, but as his eyes made closer contact with it Joseph soon realised that it was only out of focus in the focal point of the photo … the strange light that seemed to extend from the ground to the heavens above.   The rest of the images, the farmhouse and the people running around outside of it, were all clear images, though he had no idea what the punters were all doing other than running around with scared looks on their faces.    But he was right in what he thought he had seen earlier, the strange light did seem to pulsate.    Then Joseph was forced to blink a couple of times as, for a fraction of a second or two, his eyes played tricks on him.  The photograph suddenly seemed to broadcast a live image, like a television, and he could see three men suddenly burst out through the front door of the farmhouse.   Two of then ran towards the light in the middle of the yard, their faces appeared contorted in absolute fear, and then the light consumed them and they disappeared.   The other man ran in a different direction, far from the light … then suddenly stopped and looked back to the light that rose from the ground.   His face, distorted in the glow, also had a look of fear and madness about it.   Somehow that face looked strangely familiar to Joseph, but before he could study it further, the man turned and ran off, disappearing into the assumed safety of the tree lined darkness.

Joseph shook his head in disbelief, wondering just how bad the knock to his head the previous evening had really been; wondering if he was suffering delayed concussion, but immediately dismissed the thought from his mind and turned his attention back to the photograph again.   However, this time it was simply a still photo of Forster’s farm which he now recognised, and all he could see was the farmhouse and a distortion in the middle of the picture.   Whatever gave the illusion of moving images was no longer active, and nor was the pulsating glow.

Suddenly Joseph’s phone screamed out so loudly in the quiet room it gave him a start that nearly ended up with his dropping his coffee.   However, he somehow managed to maintain his grip, placed the coffee and the two torches on the nearest rack, and answered his phone.   “Martin.   What’s up?”

“Everything alright in there, old chap.   Have you found the torches?”

“Yes.   I also found a very strange photograph of the farm pinned to the wall.”

“Well, tell me all about it when you get back in the car.  I am only two places from the bowser.   Don’t worry about my coffee.   My headache has passed thanks to Liszt”

“Alright, I am on my way.”

Joseph took a last swallow of his latte from the now empty cup, picked up the two torches and began to move towards the front of the garage when instinct made him turn around just in time to see something shaped like a smoke-filled, mini whirlwind emitting from the photograph and moving towards him at a slow, but ever-increasing speed … and enlarging in equal measure as it moved.    Then Joseph suddenly realised that it wasn’t actually moving forward, but it was increasing in size so quickly it just gave the illusion that it was.   However, that understanding did little to reduce the fear and tension that was quickly filling his mind and body, as the grey fog like wind spun faster and faster in an ever expanding circle.   He could feel the skin on his hands and face flapping in a manner similar to sky divers during free fall, and he wondered if his skin was going to burst with the pressure the wind was  now applying to his body.   Joseph also feared for his life from the hundreds of missiles that the whirlpool was collecting from the racks and shelves and hurling in every direction a second later at what seemed to be over one hundred miles per hour, though, to his relief, not straight at him.    But how he had not already been partially decapitated, or finding himself minus several pieces of his fragile body, was well beyond him.   The whirlpool was getting stronger and stronger, and his instincts were no longer helping him to survive either.   He had no idea whether he should try and run for the front door, drop to the floor and lay flat.. or close his eyes and hope the end would quickly arrive.   And to make matters worse he could feel a wetness beginning to encompass his entire body; wet where the skin was exposed, and wet where the skin was located under the protection of his clothes … and he knew it must be blood that he felt, for it was warm on his body, and moving freely.   Yet he saw not an ounce of damage to his exposed body, not a drop of red on his clothes.   And the only thought that was anywhere close to reality that floated through his fast disintegrating mind was the question, ‘why!’  

   Then suddenly the wind ceased.   His skin began to dry immediately.    Whatever was flowing endlessly on his skin suddenly ceased to move … and the whirlwind was replaced by a slow moving black and red smoke that wafted and swirled across the length and width of the extended workshop at the bottom of the room.   Muted lightning now flashed continuously throughout the bright fog that filled the air, lightning flashing so constantly it was as if he was in a room full of fluorescent lights all wearing out simultaneously.   Then suddenly the room went cold.    The black and red smoke ceased to roll – and then a blast of lightning exploded so loudly Joseph thought that the roof and wall were about to cave in.   Joseph was becoming so frightened of the unknown aggression that now filled the room he felt his heart was going to burst in response to the fear and confusion that now resided within him – and when the entire room suddenly disappeared into the deepest, blackest, darkness, without a hint of even a sliver of light visible, he thought it possible that perhaps it had.

Submerged in the pure darkness there was nothing but the sound of the unknown to be heard and gnaw away at Joseph’s ever diminishing saneness.   Invisible cockroaches scuffling around his feet.   Perhaps a mouse or two sniffing out edible products from the bottom shelf to be opened and devoured by their short sharp teeth.  Scraping sounds that couldn’t be identified in any way.   Loud, hostile, threatening, but indescribable sounds hammered at his senses from all directions.   And somewhere in the room, heavy breathing echoed off the wall and ceiling: a short, sharp, raspy sound that seemed to come from the bowels of the earth.   A threatening, obnoxious sound like there was something completely unpalatable caught in a larynx that couldn’t be disgorged easily.   Joseph’s nerves were on edge.   In his mind’s current condition he couldn’t tell if it was some humongous life-threatening monster that was about to rip him to shreds, or swallow him whole … or simply the sound of his own dried-out throat choking in its need for quenching and extraction from fear.

But before he could give it any more thought the bottom end of the room once again became brightly lit, albeit in a vivid red and gold spray of light.   And in the middle of it small blue and silver sparks became air-borne, moving through the strange background in a manner similar to the burning end of a child’s hand-held Guy Fawkes sparkler.    At first it began to rotate around and around the room in the excited erratic direction a young user would take.   And the more distance it moved through the strange, eerie, red and gold world at the end of the store, the more erratic its behaviour became.   Within less than seven seconds the size of the sparks had increased to a presence that all but encompassed the entire section where the red and gold light resided … then the room EXPLODED into darkness once again.   But almost immediately another crack of lightning engulfed the room, but this time the sound was accompanied by a streak of lightning that came through the roof and seemingly embedded itself in the floor, and as it landed – stormy, grey clouds came out of nowhere and quickly began curling themselves around the still visibly embedded streak of lightning.   As the lightening began to disappear behind the thickening cloud, red flashes, increasing in quantity and strength began to appear … and then Joseph got the shock of his life as the entire stage show he was watching suddenly appeared to be blasted to pieces as something huge; something unbelievably huge … exploded into view in its place.   Joseph could not believe his eyes as the mix of storm clouds and lightning suddenly ran amok across the width and depth of the shop  to the accompaniment of dozens and dozens of claps of thunder… and Joseph’s eyes were drawn to the ceiling where he saw a face that took his breath away … a face that he knew instinctively was Rangor: the Punjaniti.

And as the most frightening, fearful face and body that he could ever imagine appeared before his terrified eyes … Joseph prayed for his own soul as his now fear addled mind numbly awaited the plunge to his fast beating heart by the huge knife that wavered above his head, a knife that threatened to strike him down the second it pleased.   And it did come down, screaming down … screaming down as if in response to his fear, screaming down so fast it was but a blur.   The world that now surrounded him began to wash over him like a fog, and as he saw the tip of the blade as it made its way to extinguish his relatively short life, his defences gave out.   The heat and odour that was the breath of his nemesis spread itself across every pore of his body; an obnoxious, repugnant, smell so strong it smothered his senses to the point Joseph fell backwards as the knife was rammed down so hard it was smashed to the hilt into the wooden floor where Joseph’s unconscious body lay.

********

EPISODE 42

PART 2

“Joseph what are you doing down there?   Are you alright?   Martin asked with concern.

“Martin, is that you?” Joseph slowly opened one eye and found Martin crouched down beside him.  “Watch out for the creature.”  He warned his friend as he suddenly jumped up in fright, quickly turning  his head in every direction possible as he tried to locate the Punjaniti.

“What creature?   Martin asked in surprise at Joseph’s words.  Did you pass out, or did you trip and hit your head?”

“The one that caused all this damage.  The one that has spread itself across the ceiling above us.”

“What damage?”

“Don’t tell me you can’t see all this?”   A bewildered Joseph asked as he looked around at the area torn up by the large bolt of lighting that had injected itself into it, and the gaping hole in the roof the bolt had made on entry.    He then turned his attention to the ceiling, but was surprised that the creature was no longer to be seen, and he shook his head in disbelief.   “The bolt of lightning stuck in the floor over there?”   Joseph asked indignantly, pointing at the object as he spoke.   “Do you see it?”

Martin didn’t bother looking up, instead he reached out with his hand and felt Joseph’s forehead, but it wasn’t feverish.   “I will ask you again, Joseph.   Did you fall, and bang your head on one of the shelves?”  Or do you think that it is a relapse caused by what happened last night?   I need to know in case we should be going to the doctors, not the farm.”

Joseph was at a loss for words.   He knew what he had seen had been real.   The darkness, the light, the lightning bolt.   Despite the creature’s sudden disappearance … he had seen the Punjaniti … and it had tried to kill him.  ‘Why couldn’t Martin see what he could see?   he wondered, ‘all he needed to do was look.’

“There are petrol and oil smells in here.”   Martin pointed out in a gentle tone,   “Fumes can often affect the senses and make you imagine things.  Perhaps you were just on a bit of a high before you passed out.”

Joseph considered arguing with Martin, but decided against it.   He knew what he had seen, what he could still see – he was absolutely certain about it.   ‘So why couldn’t Martin see it?’ he wondered.   ‘Maybe William had an answer for it.   Would Frank notice the damage?’   “Yes.  You are probably right, Martin.”   Joseph finally admitted,    “Felt real, though.  Let’s go and pay for these, then get some fresh air.”

Martin reached down and helped Joseph to his feet and the two men began the journey to the front entrance.   However, as they reached the exit, Joseph had to have one last look at the damage and carnage that had taken place inside the shop.   He stopped, but just before he turned, Frank entered the room.

“You were a long time, Joseph.   Are you like Mary and had to have several coffees?”   Frank said with a smile.    Did you find them?  The torches that is.”

“Yes.   But I also found something very interesting hanging on the side wall”

Frank looked puzzled at first as he stared in the direction that Joseph was pointing, then he began to shake his head.   “Yes, you did, by George.”   Frank said in agreement.

    ‘At last,’   Joseph thought,   ‘Finally.   He can see the damage.  I wonder why Martin can’t.   Perhaps the creature can control his mind.   Make him see what the creature wants him to see.”

“Yes, of course, the photo of the farm.”   Frank continued, much to Joseph’s disappointment,  “Old Laurie left it there in case any of the villagers wanted to see the light again.   it’s not really a good photo though, not according to Old Laurie.”

“Yes, you are right there.”   Joseph agreed wryly,  bitterly disappointed to find that Frank apparently could not see the damage that he still could, “It’s a very bad photo.  In every way possible.”

Frank looked at Joseph with confusion.   “What do you mean, Joseph?”

“I mean that it can come alive when it wishes to.”

Frank’s face went ashen.   His eyes dropped to the ground,

“Yes, it does do that now and again.”  He said in an extremely slow, soft voice.   “It certainly does.”

********

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