NOTE: This is a continuation of the "Web Of Deception" round-robin story. If you're late to the party, please start with Chapter 1 on Ben's site and go from there. You can also follow the RSS feed hosted at http://www.andthentheboilerburst.com/WebOfDeception.rss.
Damn, that was fun! JC raced away to hide in the garden, and for the first time he really enjoyed the ridiculous, short, hairy form he was stuck with. That big oaf had been about to ruin everything, so JC needed a quick distraction. And who said work couldn't be fun? Oh, the look on his face. Ha! It was tough to tell if he'd been more upset by the claws turning his leg into swiss cheese or the pseudo-sexual mock rape of his jeans. Probably the sex. What a narrow-minded twit. After all, what happens between two consenting adults - well, ok, technically it was one consenting temporarily feline being and one definitely non-consenting adult, but who's quibbling? *snicker*
Ah, surrounded by morons, as usual. The musclebound buffoon clearly had all the imagination of a fence post. A rotten, moss-coverered fence post, at that. The only way he would cause trouble would be by bumbling and fumbling into something. Which he almost did just then. Why the heck were these crazy Outsiders so oblivious sometimes? One day, they were freaking omniscient, or so you'd think. The next, they'd wander aimlessly and never notice anything, up to and including being run over by a pickup. Good luck figuring out which day was which, though. And may all the gods help you if you guessed wrong!
The woman, on the other hand, obviously had more than enough imagination for both of them. Sniffing the wool, as if it were a tisane or a potion. The fool had no idea what she was dealing with. And she'd better hope she never found out. A little bit of knowledge is a dangerous thing, and that little tramp was definitely dangerous. And not just to the walking fence post she'd been playing with, either. Not that he could tell. No way a woman like that was serious about a guy as dumb as him. Why don't they ever learn? A flirty smile, a little leg, and down they tumble. Idiots.
And what was going on with that creepy little caveman, anyway? Always spying on everyone, and not very good at it, either. If you're going to sneak through a garden to steal a look at the new neighbors, maybe you should leave the bag of wool at home, eh? Not like that stuff is likely to get caught on a branch or anything, is it? Yeah, that's the sign of a good spy, the one who leaves a trail of black wool behind him.
As usual, JC knew he was going to have to do all the heavy lifting. These fools were a complete waste of oxygen. And yet they got to walk, and talk, and use opposable thumbs. Yeah, no doubt about it. The universe had a very twisted sense of humor.
"Mike! What's wrong?" Callie raced back outside, just in time to see a very ugly cat jump off Mike's bloody leg and disappear into the garden. "What happened? Are you all right?"
"Not exactly, no. Thank God that cat's gone. I thought he was gonna rip my leg right off!" Mike levered himself back onto the porch, injured leg held awkwardly in front of him.
"Stay right there, I'll get some water to wash the cuts out. Oh, you're going to need a tetanus, too! That cat did NOT look clean."
Callie grabbed a big pot and started the hot water running to fill it up, then went digging through the boxes for a clean towel. When she found the towels, the water was steaming. She carried both out to the porch and told Mike to take his jeans off.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you," he tried to leer good-naturedly, but it fell a bit flat.
Callie smiled encouragingly at him while she soaked a towel in the hot water. "This will sting a bit, but we've got to clean out those cuts."
"I know," Mike said. "Don't worry about it, the sooner we get this cleaned up, the sooner I can dig out my shotgun. See if that crazy animal likes buckshot as much as it likes denim."
Callie frowned thoughtfully as she turned away to wring out the towel. On the surface she focused on cleaning Mike's scratches, but most of her attention was focused on the strange things she'd seen.
She didn't think Mike would get a shot at that cat anytime soon. It's behavior had been very odd, and she could have sworn it stopped briefly to look back at her before it disappeared for good. That wasn't too unusual by itself, but when the cat also stuck out its tongue and then even winked, Callie decided it had to be a very strange cat indeed.
Not as strange as the queer, little man she'd seen skulking in the garden, though. He'd jumped when she looked at him, as though he was used to being invisible, then scurried away furtively. More importantly, he'd been carrying some sort of shoulder bag full of that awful black wool. Talk about disturbing memories. And to think Mike thought it looked like the sweater Gran gave her for her coming of age celebration. She shuddered at the idea of wearing anything made of the nasty stuff.
The hobbit shook and trembled, finally safe and resting back in his cave. Every trip outside took more out of him. He hadn't wanted to go at all, but he needed more special wool. He couldn't do without it. What was the point in staying alive all this time, if he didn't finish the knitting? He'd show them, yes, show them all. The ones who were left, anyway. They never believed him. Oh, they said it was just more hallucinations, but he'd left those days long behind. Nothing from back then compared to this. He'd told them, but they didn't understand. They hadn't seen.
Things might be changing, though. He had neighbors again. He'd been unable to resist a side trip to the farmhouse when he saw that old fraud Tom Dufay driving up. They should talk to Dufay about hallucinations, between his mystical crystal mumbo-jumbo and his constant search for proof of government conspiracies. Oh, he talked a good game, but he had his own agenda. So when the hobbit saw him heading to the farmhouse, he followed. And met his new neighbors. Or as close to meeting them as he was likely to get, these days.
It had been such a long time since he'd seen two healthy, happy people living nearby that he was a bit stunned. The woman, in particular, stole his attention clean away. He'd been trapped like a fly in honey until she saw him looking in the window. That broke the spell, and he had to run away. It wouldn't do to be caught now. He was almost ready.
For a moment, his memory slipped back to the sight of her, and he allowed himself a fantasy that was at once wistful and sly, imagining what would happen if she fell in the brook the way the Tyler boys used to. The water was never very deep, but even if it flooded, a woman like that carried her own flotation devices, he thought with a fading, warped gleam in his eye.
Suddenly, the cave flooded with light as a hand pulled aside the vines covering the entrance. The hobbit shrieked in surprise, falling over backwards and scrambling away from the opening.
This story is continued by
Jess Stratton, who kindly included the word "pinafore" in
Chapter 4. Stay tuned for updates to "Web of Deception" at the RSS feed hosted at
http://www.andthentheboilerburst.com/WebOfDeception.rss.
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