by Wiley, Ryan
I get to my feet and shout out in pain, as I have to move my ribs in order to accomplish this. I take a step forward but once I do, Tabby runs out in front of me and I almost step on her.
"Watch where you're going!"
I step over her and continue walking but she moves ahead of me again and starts hissing. I don't have much experience with cats but I do know if they hiss at you, you're in trouble. While cats and dogs may come in small sizes, they can be pretty vicious when they get upset.
"What do you want from me?"
I try to walk around her again, but she seems determined to prevent me from going this way. It can't be normal for a cat to do something like this. I make one last attempt to go around her, but she jumps up at me and starts hissing again.
"Seriously, what is your problem?"
The cat walks up and rubs its face against me. I'm annoyed so I find it less cute this time, but then she starts walking behind me. She's walking a little to the right of the last trail I was going then turns around and looks at me.
"What do you want me to do, follow you?"
This is ludicrous; I'm not going to follow a cat. It's probably just looking for a good spot to poop. Besides, if I get lost - cat or no cat - it could be days before I figure a way out and by then I might die.
Nevertheless, the thought of going back and continuing down trails I've already made sounds exhausting. I'd rather be completely lost with Tabby than be stuck alone in the woods again. I walk toward her just to see what she will do. Sure enough, this crazy black cat that appeared out of thin air wants me to follow her like she's the leader and I'm just a little boy scout.
Cats were made to live outside, so I'm sure they have better survival instincts than I do. It's like birds that have internal GPS systems they use to travel south every year. Animals can do some extraordinary things without the use of human technology.
As I walk toward her she keeps about a ten-yard pace ahead of me, never looking back. I stop walking for a moment just to see what she'll do. Sure enough, she turns around almost instantaneously and starts meowing at me. How incredible and weird this is.
We walk together for what seems like forever when I see it, the end of the forest. My pace picks up as Tabby runs forward. By the time I catch up to her again she's lapping up water from the creek I bathed in a few hours earlier. I look up and see the familiar cabin. I did it! Well... we did it. I'm never going back in those woods again!
I squat down and pet her as she continues lapping up water.
"Good kitty. Good girl!"
I used to hate cats but now I will have a lifetime appreciation for them. I'm not sure if I ever would have made it out of the woods without my furry friend. Knowing where I am now, I realize I would have had to go a long way down my four paths before getting out of the woods. There's no way I would have made it out today.
I make my way to the garage to check the time, Tabby runs along next to me. I open the car door and check the internal clock – a quarter after five.
That means I have around forty-five minutes - give or take fifteen minutes - before my friend Cujo is supposed to arrive. That's just enough time to get myself prepared and ready. My left arm still hurts, but I think I can bend it enough to aim a gun at him.
I go downstairs to grab the gun. It takes awhile but I figure out how to open up the chamber. As for bullets, I take the first box I see and put one in the chamber to see if it fits. To me, it looks like it fits fine, but I really have no idea. Guess I'll find out - I load the gun and make my way upstairs.
I decide I'll stand by the garage door and wait for him. If he comes after me, I'll be able to get one good shot in. If I miss, I can go back in the house and close the door. He can sit out there and bark all night. As long as I keep the outside and basement doors closed, there's no way he can get inside no matter how angry he is. This is all assuming I miss, but I don't plan on missing.
I stand by the door and wait, gun in hand, ready to fire. The cat continues to purr and rub against my leg, obviously not understanding the seriousness of the situation. This is added motivation to hit Cujo with the shot I have. If I miss and he attacks Tabby I'll be like a mother protecting her young.
Minutes go by with no sign of Cujo. It has to be about time for him to arrive. I go to the car to check the time, making sure to watch my back. It's a quarter after six. If he's going to come, it should be very soon.
Feeling more daring, I go out of the garage to look around. Maybe he's hiding. I wait for what seems like forever, my heart beating out of my chest with nervous excitement, but he never comes. I go back to the car and see it's now six thirty. I know for sure in previous days he came before this. It looks like he isn't going to come.
Since I have my gun, I might as well have some fun while I'm out here. I really want to shoot this thing no matter how much my arm hurts. I go out of the garage and look for something to use as a target. I don't see anything other than trees and cabin to shoot at. Cabin it is!
I make sure to get a good distance away and aim for the corner of the garage. I'm tired of shooting trees.
I put the gun into my right shoulder and stretch out my left arm as far as it will allow me. When I pull the trigger, my shoulder blasts back. The sound is much louder than I anticipate as smoke goes up in the air. When it dissipates I get to see the damage I've caused.
"Awesome!"
There's a decent little hole in the side of the garage. This is what I've been waiting for! I've even managed to avoid shooting my eye out. It's tempting to go on a shooting rampage, but I better not press my luck, so I head back inside.
As I eat a wondrous bowl of cereal for the umpteenth time in the last few days, my mind drifts to Cujo. I really thought he'd come back to life and attack me again. After all, he's always been there around six o'clock, as I painfully know. It doesn't matter how far I travel - from Ohio to Tennessee to... wherever the hell I am now - he's somehow managed to follow me.
The same thing with Tabby, who has her head rested against my foot sleeping. I'm loving this precious little kitty more and more. It's so strange how she seemed to appear out of thin air in the woods. I wish I'd had my eyes open to see if that's exactly what happened.
What will happen if she's with me the next twenty-four hours? At four o'clock will there be two kitties? I don't think I can handle twins yet.
Then there's the black car. That black fucking car with nobody inside of it. At first, I thought it was some self-driving technology car programmed by a human being messing with me. Now I would bet more money that it's another magical mystery with no good explanation.
If I see that car tomorrow, I plan on crashing into the damn thing just to see what happens. If this is all a prank, somebody is in for an entertaining day tomorrow.
Darkness sets in so I put my bowl in the sink, still too lazy to put it in the dishwasher, then make my way upstairs to the master bedroom. My furry friend is still scampering beside me.
My king size bed is there waiting for me, sheets untucked just as I like them. Before I lie in bed, I go out to the balcony and think about the day and the last week. As I sit on the chair and look out at the full moon, Tabby hops onto my lap and begins purring while I pet her.
I wish I had a functional alarm clock. I want to make sure I have enough time to pay my black car a visit. I get the idea to shoot at one of their tires. This seems better than slamming into it with my car. I'm a lousy shot but if it drives right past me I'm sure I could at least hit it.
"How does that sound to you, Tabby?"
She looks up at me with a confused look.
"Come on, let's go inside and go to bed."
When I tuck myself in, I still sleep on the right side. Even though I have all of this extra space, I can't break the habit of sleeping next to Abby. The cat hops up to bed with me and lies down on the left side, giving me another reason not to sleep in the middle.
I thought today was going to be a relaxing day of recovery but, again, it was for
from it. As my head hits the pillow, my thoughts about the day and the week seem to fade. All that's left are thoughts of Abby. I have more and more doubts if she - like everyone else - is on this planet. I know she's somewhere out there though, even if it's only in spirit.
And with that thought, I close my eyes and drift off to sleep, Tabby lying by my side.
Chapter 18
I'm awakened in the morning not by the sunlight coming in, but by the feeling of a cat licking my face. Most people would find this gross, but I think it's adorable.
"What do you think, Tabby? Is today going to be a good day?" I ask as I look at her.
I wouldn't call it a meow, but she does give off some kind of chirp sound. Of course, that could be her way of telling me to put her down.
Holding her makes me realize my left arm feels much better today. It still hurts but at least I can extend it all the way out. My entire body is much improved. If yesterday was a nine out of ten on the pain scale, today is more like a four.
With no time to waste if I want to see the black car, I make my way downstairs to check the time. Seven thirty in the morning -- just enough time to eat and get my supplies ready.
Tabby comes downstairs and it occurs to me she hasn't eaten anything since I've seen her. She drank what seemed like the entire creek yesterday, which was filled with six days worth of my body odor. Maybe I shouldn't have let her lick my face.
"Poor Tabby, you must be starving."
I grab an extra bowl and fill it with cereal. To my surprise, when I put it down she doesn't seem too eager to dig in. She gives it a sniff then walks away.
"What, are you not a cereal fan? I'm sorry; I don't have any other food for you. I'll see if I can get you some later."
I wasn't planning on going out to find a grocery store today but with the way my arm feels, I might. First I have a date with the black car, though.
I eat my cereal as quickly as I can and start rounding up my supplies. Ax - check. Gun with ammo - check. Water and aspirin - check.
What else do I need? If I still had my siphon I could make sure I'm all topped off, but unfortunately I don't have that option. I'd almost forgotten about my car's mysterious disappearance. I still have no good explanation for that. Like murder mysteries, I'll probably never find out.
Unable to think of anything else to take with me, I make my way to the garage. As I do, Tabby rushes ahead of me to the door.
"Hey girl, I'm not sure it's a good idea that you come for this."
I use my foot to try to push her away, but she's a sneaky little gal. When I close the garage door behind me she manages to get past me and jump in the car.
"You little twerp," I say affectionately. "Alright, I guess you can come. "
Tabby sits in the front passenger seat. When I get in I put my loaded gun and other supplies next to her. It feels very unsafe; I'm the worst parent EVER!
Anxiousness builds inside me and I tell myself to relax. After all, if I shoot and miss I can always come back the next day. This is assuming the car even comes (which there's no guarantee of).
I turn the car on and make my way down the long gravel driveway. I check the time and it's only eight o'clock but I want to give myself plenty of time. Most people agree it's a good quality to be punctual, and I agree. But it can be stressful never being late.
As I make my way toward the highway, I approach the turn that leads to Cujo's house. Waiting by the highway for an hour will drive me crazy so I decide to check up on him. When I get there, it's hard to see where he is until I get right up next to the driveway. When I do, I see Cujo is now gone!
I have no doubt I'm looking in the right spot. As traumatic as that event was, I can probably get out and point within one inch of the spot he was laying in only a day before.
I grab my gun and get out, Tabby trying to follow along behind me.
"No, Tabby! Not this time, you stay here."
I close the door in her face and she gives me a disapproving meow.
When I walk over, I think back to not only what Cujo looked like but the ground around him. I remember blood everywhere and thinking that a dog like that couldn't possibly bleed that much.
I see nothing on the ground, though. Like Abby's black BMW that vanished along with everything around it, Cujo has disappeared. He's gone and all the blood and pieces of his body seem to be missing too.
Logically thinking, Cujo getting cleaned up seems way more possible than the car disappearing. I think, given one full day, I could have Cujo taken away and soak up enough of the blood to make the yard look good as new.
Somehow I don't think this is what happened. If I wouldn't have experienced the same situation with the car I may think otherwise, but I'm beginning to think it's all just a fairy tale with no rational reason behind the things that are happening.
I look around just to make sure there isn't even a hint of blood on the ground but there isn't. Cujo has disappeared like the car, like everyone else. Nothing makes sense anymore.
I walk back to the car, Tabby looking at me with her little nose pressed against the window. I wonder what she's thinking right now. When I get in she doesn't try to come over. She stays by the passenger side window and only looks over at me for a moment before turning her attention back to the window.
I put the gun back in the passenger seat, turn the ignition on, and make my way to the highway. Tabby looks out the window, not seeming to be her regular self. I've known this cat for less than a day now and I've already become the worried parent.
When I get to the highway, there is a cross lane to make an illegal U-turn if needed. I figure this is as good a place as any to camp out. After all, I'm not sure what direction the black car will be coming from. I think back to previous days and it's all been very random where the black car has been. Wherever I am, it finds a way to show up. It's best that I be in a position to chase down the car from either side of the road.
I check the time again – eight thirty. I figure now is a good time to get everything in place. I take my gun and the box of bullets. If it speeds past me, I'll only have time for one good shot - maybe two - but I want to have the bullets near me just in case.
Seeing me grab my gun seems to get Tabby out of her daze. She looks up at me like a worried mother looks at her son before leaving for military duty.
"It's OK Tabby. Nothing bad is going to happen."
I've just told my first lie to my baby. Something bad is about to happen. I'm not sure what, or if it will be bad for the car or me, but something bad is definitely going to happen soon.
Every minute I turn my head from one side of the highway to the other. To keep myself occupied, I recheck the holster to make sure the gun is locked and loaded.
Getting antsier, I check the time and see I still have twenty minutes before they should arrive. This is too much time to waste standing here so I get ready to do another test shot with the gun to make sure it's working. The last thing I want is to be in the perfect position only to discover the safety is on or the gun isn't firing for whatever reason.
The "No U-Turn" sign seems to be the perfect target practice. As always, I get into position far enough away that I don't think debris will come back and hit me. I aim, this time able to stretch out my arm far enough that I can look down the barrel and properly aim. The sign is large from this distance that it only takes a second to measure it up. Then, I pull the trigger.
The gun kicks up into the air. I almost fall to the ground from the explosion. When the smoke clears I see the sign has been blasted to bits. I love this gun!
I'm glad I did the test run, because now I know I need to have a better stance to keep my balance. For this shot I was standing as if I were getting ready to walk. Instead, I now know I need to have my left foot well out in front of my right. Common sense, I'm sure, for most country boys, but I grew up without getting my hands dirty.
I'm now confident and ready for the black car. I look in the car window and see it's 8:58. It's amazing how time
can slow down when you don't want it to. I look down at Tabby who is staring at me with her worried face.
"I'm worried too Tabby, it's OK."
I turn my head from side to side every five seconds trying to find the black car. I can visualize it coming down the highway as far as I can see. It moves at breakneck speed as I get my gun ready. When it gets close, I take aim at a front tire and pull the trigger. It hits and the black car spins out of control tumbling over - finally stopping at my feet.
That's the fairy tale scenario. If it were a week ago I might have expected it to happen like that. Now, I know even the simplest things have proven difficult.
More minutes pass but there's no sign of the black car anywhere. It's now time for it to be here.
The silence of the world around me is still hard to adjust to. In the regular world there's almost always some kind of sound to distract your attention, whether it's the TV, the radio, having a conversation, or the regular clicks and clacks you hear at work. Even when you're outside, you hear birds or cars or something. It's never totally silent... except for this past week.
That's why it's easy to hear the black car coming up behind me. It makes its way up the road I just came from. Unlike every other time I've seen the black car, it's moving at the speed limit. It approaches the stop sign that leads to the highway, which is only about thirty yards from where I'm standing. Adding further to my surprise, the black car comes to a complete stop.
The car is close enough that I can see clearly there still isn't anyone behind the wheel. It stays stopped like it's looking at me and wondering what I'm going to do.
The truth is I have no idea what to do. This wasn't part of the plan. I hold my gun tight in both hands, wondering if I should shoot at one of the tires. My hands are shaking but I could probably steady them enough to hit them. Something inside of me is telling me this isn't what I should do, though.
Instead, I take one slow, careful step toward the black car. Then another. Worst case, I figure, if it speeds after me I can dodge out of the way. Since it's so close, it can't gain much speed at me.