The Secret

by Carmen Botman

when Mr Pettinger had suffered a stroke about two years ago and he had accompanied the ambulance to the hospital. He knew that although the old man had recovered well, he still had some residual problems. A slightly gimpy leg, for one. And diminished hearing. Or perhaps that was just age. They were both well into their seventies. Just like his grandparents. The second time was last year when their neighbour had complained that they were disturbing the peace. He thought that the neighbour was being ridiculous, but he had a duty to come out and make a visit no matter what he thought. But he chickened out last year. He didn’t have the heart to give these two old people a formal warning. So he just stood at the door for a few minutes, then turned around and went back to his car and drove back to the station. But ever since the sudden disappearance of Officer Daniels, their already small police department was even smaller and their chief was keeping a close eye on everyone. So tonight, no matter how badly he felt about it, he would have to give the Pettingers’ a formal warning.

  “Good evening, Officer Peters. So nice to see you again,” Marjory said with a broad smile.

  He noted that the TV and radio were quite loud. Then again, it was only early evening. Being an attorney, Mr Davis should know that technically you could only ‘disturb the peace’ after midnight.

  “I’m really sorry to bother, but –” he said loudly.

  “Alfred Davis. We know. He called to tell us that he would call you,” Leonard interrupted.

  “He said that there were unusual noises coming from this house,” the officer continued.

  “Well, Officer, as you can see, it’s the TV and hi-fi. We can’t really hear anything when it storms like this,” Marjory stated.

  Officer Peters nodded. It was just as he had thought.

  “Well, if you could possibly turn it down only slightly, I think that should suffice. I’ll go over to Mr Davis’s place to let him know what the situation is,” he said.

  The old couple nodded and smiled, secretly relieved that it had all gone this quickly and this well.

  “Alright, Officer, thank you very much. And we do apologise for the inconvenience,” said Leonard and pushed the door closed.

  With a mere three centimetre gap to go, an almighty roar along with forceful rattling of the glassware safely locked away could be heard from inside. Everyone stopped dead. Now as sympathetic as Officer Peters was, he was sure that that noise did not emanate from either the television set or the radio.

  “What was that?” he asked and pushed the door open again.

  “Just the TV again. We like watching the dinosaur shows,” said Leonard.

  Was Officer Peters mistaken or did he just catch Marjory in a split-second nervously looking toward the kitchen?

  “Could I come in for a few minutes?” he asked, changing his stance. Suddenly he wasn’t so sure that all was as innocent as it seemed. Were they keeping some sort of an illegal animal? An endangered species maybe? He had heard the story of the lady who had kept an ape of some sort as a pet, claiming that it was so safe – then it ripped off her friend’s face.

  “Officer Peters, there’s no reason for you to waste your time in our house. Really. I’m sure you have more important things to do,” said Leonard, holding so tightly onto the door that his knuckles turned white. This did not escape Officer Peters.

  “And the house is a mess. I’d be too ashamed for anyone to see it in this state,” added Marjory.

  “As an officer of the law, I have a right to come into your home if I suspect that something may be amiss. I do believe that something is amiss. Now please let me enter,” he informed them.

  Leonard opened his mouth to protest, but noticing the officer’s hand subtly placed on his firearm, he dejectedly stepped aside and let him in. Marjory wrung her hands in despair. Surely nothing good would come of this.

  The officer slowly scanned the small lounge. He turned the TV and radio down. Everything seemed in order. The house was spotless, which only strengthened his suspicions. He could hear nothing now. He went over the kitchen. Immaculate. Not a single item out of place. He stood quietly and strained his ears. Nothing. Leonard and Marjory both had their eyes fixated on him, willing him with all their might to leave.

  “Well, everything looks fine here,” he advised them and turned to leave.

  This time the growl was so terrifying that even Leonard shook in fear. He had never heard such a loud one before. It was as if it was being projected directly into his ear. The chest was now very obviously rattling where it stood on the floor.

  The officer instinctively drew his weapon and spun around.

  “Alright. What was that?” he questioned.

  “Just – just a stray dog we found in the woods. We felt sorry for it and decided to take it in,” said Leonard.

  “But you can’t keep wild animals in your home. They need to be checked out by the vet. They could be carrying all sorts of diseases,” the officer said and placed his weapon back into the holster. He was torn between annoyance and sympathy for this old couple.

  “The vet’s already been here to give it injections. Told us how to take care of it,” said Leonard.

  “Is it on a leash?”

  “Yes.” “No.” Leonard and Marjory looked at each other in disbelief. It had been going so well. Well, well-ish.

  “So which is yet? Yes or no?” asked the policeman.

  “Yes. It’s on a leash,” said Leonard.

  “And you’re keeping it in the basement?”

  “Just for now, while there’s a storm? She doesn’t like the storms,” said the old man.

  “I’ll need to go down there, just to make sure.”

  “Officer Peters, really, it’s just a little dog,” said Marjory.

  As if on cue, an enormous roar erupted once again from below and the wall shook so violently that the chest shifted clear across the kitchen floor. The roars were intermingled with howls and they could hear persistent, violent scratching, coming from the other side of the door.

  “That’s just a little dog?! Open up!” the policeman ordered.

  And then, as if this twilight zone scene couldn’t get any more bizarre, the Pettingers’ actually tried to attack him or disarm him or something. He wasn’t sure exactly what they were trying, but their bodies were too frail and their coordination poor and they were failing miserably. In one swift move he had them both seated on the kitchen chairs. Breathing heavily he felt compelled to draw his weapon at this stage and aim it at them.

  “Now I’ve had quite enough of this! Where are the keys? I’m going downstairs.”

  “Officer Peters, please don’t,” Leonard begged one final time.

  “Mr Pettinger, I said I’ve had enough. Hand me the keys and let me go downstairs.”

  The old couple sat quietly for a few moments as the weapon remained steadily aimed at them. After a while Leonard reluctantly reached into his trouser pocket and removed the skeleton key.

  “It opens up the third drawer. You’ll find the bunch of keys in there,” he motioned with his head.

  With the keys retrieved and his weapon drawn, he cautiously turned the lock anti-clockwise. The couple’s strange behaviour was making his mind throw out all sorts of strange images. With a sweaty palm he turned the round doorknob with his left hand. The door squeaked slightly as he opened it up. With one last look at the couple behind him he stepped onto the basement landing.

  It was dark as night, but down below he could see a very dim light. He stood there for a few seconds contemplating whether or not he should go down or call for back-up. He imagined the jokes in the office about him calling for assistance with two old people in their seventies and discarded the thought immediately. He retrieved the torch attached to his belt and slowly made his way downstairs. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out the location of the dog, but couldn’t see or hear it.

  He was halfway down when he heard a shuffling noise further below.

  “Hello?” he called out.

  “Hello,” he heard a
female voice replying and the figure of a woman stepped into the dim light, looking up towards him.

  His skin crawled. What the hell was going on here? Where was this alleged dog? Why was there a woman down here?

  “Hello. Who – who are you?” he asked as he reached the final step. She was quite attractive. If the setting of this meeting wasn’t so absolutely bizarre he might have asked her out on a date. Maybe.

  “I’m Elizabeth,” she said and turned back to sit down at a small table. He followed her.

  “Do – do you live down here?” he stammered. His brain just could not make sense of this entire scenario - starting from the moment he entered this house.

  She laughed at the question.

  “No. I like to do my needlework here,” she answered. It was then that he noticed various reels of coloured cotton thread neatly lined up on the table. She was licking the end of a piece of thread, preparing to shove it through the tiny hole of the needle she held in her hand.

  Next to her in the dim light Officer Peters noticed a few metal cages. They looked empty from where he was standing. Perhaps the dog was in there.

  “Do you keep animals?” he asked and then immediately reprimanded himself. He should’ve asked her who she was exactly. What was he? A rookie? But he’d been so caught off-guard by this strange visit that he couldn’t seem to think straight.

  “Yes. Stray, unwanted, unloved animals, usually,” she said and got up out of her chair, gently shoving him towards the cages.

  There was only limited light to illuminate the