Chapter Four
After what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality only an hour by the dash-clock, she reached the turnoff for her destination. Turning off the road she slipped the car into neutral and leaned over the steering wheel to get a better look.
Looks a bit like a wooden Stonehenge, she thought, her mouth dropping open as she peered up through the bug-splattered windscreen.
Two large wooden poles rose from the ground like enormous fangs and they in turn supported another which lay horizontally across the top. Hanging like a giant’s loincloth from the centre was a carved wooden sign.
‘DIS’ was written in huge gilded letters and Annabelle gasped as she stared at it. Beautiful intricate fretwork and scrolling bordered the property’s name, each letter standing at least 40 cm. Or, she calculated in her head her forehead furrowing as she struggled to remember her high school math ; a little over 15 inches.
“Wow.” Chewing her fingernail she pondered what the owner could be like. “He’s definitely not a shrinking violet or shy. Not with an entrance this fancy. Probably a real prick. Another wealthy-pretentious-know-it-all with his head jammed up his arse.”
Placed inconspicuously at the base of the wooden uprights were solar lights. They cast their soft light onto black wrought-iron gates and a small speaker box located in a recessed alcove in the side of one post.
Leaving the car idling she made her way over to it and just as her finger went to press the speaker button a disembodied voice drifted out.
Welcome Miss Nordstrom, my name is Mrs Oliveri. I’ve been expecting you, please make your way to the guest cottage situated behind the main house. I’ll await you there. Thank you.
Annabelle’s finger remained poised mid-air as the voice vanished replaced with a crackle of static and then silence.
“How did she even know I was here? Let alone that I was about to buzz?” Annabelle quizzed the night.
There was a slight ping and the gates swung open on well-oiled hinges. She glanced into the yawning inky-maw that stretched out on the other side. It was a blackness so complete that for a second her scalp prickled and deep in her stomach something flipped over and curled up tightly.
Walking quickly back to the car a flicker caught her eye.
Turning her head she saw three crows balancing on the boundary fence’s top wire, watching her with an intensity that was unnerving, their eyes glittering onyx beads. As she stared they cawed and took flight, their coal-black bodies melding into the night’s embrace.
Percival’s meow broke her trance-like stare and Annabelle felt a strange heaviness settle in her stomach as she climbed back into the driver’s seat.
“Shhh. It’s alright little man, we’re nearly there. ” She leaned down and stroked him through the bars. “You’re fed up with being stuck in there aren’t you? You’ve been such a good patient boy,” she crooned.
Percival purred like a little sewing machine at the sound of his mistress’s voice and visibly relaxing he raised his paw and settled in for a good grooming session.
Satisfied that he was alright, she drove through the open gates, watching them close in the rear-vision mirror. Her eyes widened as they vanished, it was if a black curtain had dropped down at the end of a performance. But there were no encores with this show, there was just a void of nothingness. It was quite unsettling and taking a deep breath she concentrated on the road in front.
The driveway was surprisingly smooth and well maintained judging by the lack of potholes and corrugates in the surface. Her car rolled along effortlessly and glancing down, she groaned when she saw the fuel gauge hovering on a ¼ of a tank.
“Shit! I hope I get there before we run out of petrol,” she told Percival, who cocked his head up and blinked before meowing and going back to his toilette. “Hmm. It’s alright for you. You can just curl up anywhere and go to sleep.” She yawned. “I’m so tired, I think just this once, I could sleep on a bed-of-nails.” Opening her eyes wide she shook her head to chase away the Sandman and gripping the wheel tightly she pushed her foot down a little more.
Tall inverted tulip-style lanterns lined the shoulder at three metre intervals, but their buttery-glow did little to chase away the darkness which pressed in on her car from all sides. Passing them she was surprised to see they were bug-free. Not one insect buzzed in a frenzied kamikaze mission around their large fluted shades.
“That’s very strange,” she said, sleepily gazing out the side window. Turning her attention back to the road in front she gasped as a large dark shape materialized on what had been an empty road. Standing statue-like in the middle of the asphalt it was snared in the glare of her high beams, like a deer. Jamming her brakes on she stared at it as the car squealed to a sudden halt.
“Bloody hell! I must be tired, I’ve conjured up a hallucinatory horse.” She rubbed her eyes and took another look and her breath caught in her throat.
It wasn’t a horse or even a deer, it was a dog. But it was no ordinary house pet, or lap-dog.
A shiver ran through her, making the hairs on her nape and arms rise and the leather steering wheel felt slick as her fingers strangled it.
Directly facing her, the dog stood as high as a Shetland pony. A massive square head perched atop a thick bull-neck and it had tall pricked ears, like a Doberman. As its jaws dropped open a long tongue flopped out and bounced up and down like a bungee rope and in the light she saw with a start, a set of canines that would rival a Sabre-tooth tiger’s.
Its eyes flashed like the strike of a match and Annabelle felt her heart start to race as it padded the few steps towards her. In his cage Percival arched his back, hissing and spitting angrily. The sound was distracting and she forced herself not to look at him.
“Oh shit no, it’s coming closer.”
Before she could react, there was a loud thump and the car rocked as the dog jumped onto the bonnet and sat, the metal under its massive haunches squeaking out its protests. Its tail made sweeping movements and dropping its head, it pressed its nose against the filthy glass.
Annabelle cried out and pressed backwards into the seat. In her neck a tiny tic jumped erratically and low in her belly she felt the weight of her painfully full bladder.
The dog licked the glass, leaving behind long strings of bubbly drool. Annabelle gagged and panicking she did the first thing that came to mind, she turned on the wipers. Percival growled low in his throat and scratched at the sides of his carry-cage.
Hearing her cat’s distress at the unwelcome visitor Annabelle yelled, “Shoo, shoo! You big bastard.”
The dog tilted its head and looked at her. With its tongue flicking in and out, it panted in time to its wagging-metronome-tail as it watched the wipers sweeping across the glass. The saliva smeared with the squashed bug bodies and the dog soon disappeared from her sight, hidden behind an opaque curtain. As the blades mixed with the spraying water she watched as like magic the glass cleared, leaving behind two clean arcs and an empty bonnet.
The dog had vanished into the night.
Annabelle sat frozen in her seat, struggling to absorb the fact that a large animal -- which had made the car move -- had simply disappeared without making a sound. Dropping her head into her hands she massaged her forehead as she felt the twinge of an oncoming headache. Reaching into the console she grabbed a bottle of water and two headache tablets and ignoring her whingeing bladder she downed the pills and drove off.
The Devil Of Oz Page 6