End of the Road (23 page)

“
Cow’s been poisoned,” he
said. “I mean to file a complaint.”

“
Poisoned?” I asked,
uncertain as to whether he was accusing me or asking me to act on
his behalf. “How can you be sure? Is the animal dead?”

“
No, it’s the calf. Come
take a look.”

“
Mr. Bennet, I am an
attorney. If you suspect that a crime has been committed, you need
to contact the sheriff.”

“
Come take a look,” he
repeated, and after a pause added, “please?”

It was then that I noticed that his
demeanor, which I had at first taken to be disgruntlement, was more
fearful than contrary. Though I was loath to leave my warm and dry
house, my curiosity began to get the better of me, and I consented
to accompany him.

After taking the time to get my coat and
hat, I followed him to his pickup. The distance from my house to
Bennet’s farm was less than a quarter mile, but the rain and
darkness conspired to make the trip longer than it should have
taken otherwise. After a time, however, Bennet’s farmhouse appeared
in the yellowish glow of the truck’s headlamps.

Bennet pulled in front of the house, yet
seemed reluctant to leave the confines of the vehicle. Though the
night was tinged by a definite chill, sweat had nonetheless formed
on his forehead. I thought to inquire as to the nature of his
apparent unease, but then he shut off the engine and exited the
vehicle, motioning for me to follow.

We proceeded not toward the darkened house,
but instead to the large barn which sat at the rear of a fenced-in
lot and bordered the pasture field. As we stepped out of the rain
into the structure, I was hard pressed to see anything past the
length of my outstretched arm. I heard Bennet fumbling with
something, and suddenly the interior of the barn was cast into a
bright light. Squinting against the glare, I saw that he had lit an
oil lamp.

“
It’s back here,” he said,
and advanced deeper into the black void. I followed quickly behind
him, suddenly having no desire to linger in the inky shadows,
though I had no tangible reason for my sudden unease. The smell of
damp hay and manure was nearly insufferable, but I steeled my
senses as we hastened to one of the stalls near the back of the
barn. Here Bennet paused, either unwilling or unable to cross the
threshold. Though still ill at ease, my curiosity was piqued. I
strained to peer into the dark stall.

“
The calf is in there?” I
asked, anxious to get this business over with and return to my warm
house.

Bennet nodded and licked his lips, a nervous
gesture. He said nothing, but offered me the lantern. I took it
from him impatiently. I had seen dead animals before, and nothing I
had heard or seen up till then had led me to believe that I would
see anything different here.

“
Mind the cow,” Bennet
whispered harshly. “She’s plenty spooked.”

I studied him for a moment before nodding,
then turned my attention to the stall’s interior. The first thing
that caught my attention was the cow. She was pressing heavily
against the side of the stall, as if attempting to break through
the wooden boards and escape beyond the confinement of the small
room. Her large eyes were wide and fixated upon something on the
floor, which I was as yet unable to see due to the mounds of hay
and shadows.

Cautiously, I stepped further into the
stall, all the while being mindful of the cow, which looked to be
ready to bolt at any given moment. A shrill noise stung my ears, a
sound somewhere between the cry of a newborn baby and the screech
of an attacking bird of prey. I swung around in an attempt to
identify the source of this wretched sound and my gaze fell upon a
sight which has haunted my nightmares to this very day.

The thing that lay on the floor of the
stall, thrashing weakly in the scattered hay, was nothing short of
an abomination. That I did not drop the lamp and run blindly from
the barn is something that I still marvel at. Surely any reasonable
man would have done as much. Yet I believe now that only sheer
terror held me rooted to the spot, though I would like to think
that morbid curiosity kept me from fleeing into the rainy
night.

To call the thing a calf required a colossal
stretch of the imagination. Only the color of the thing—and the
fact that it had four legs—even remotely resembled a young bovine.
The head was large and misshapen, in which were set a pair of eyes
more closely akin to those of a reptile. A black tongue of
improbable length and width lolled from the creature’s mouth, which
was also unproportionally large. Forcing myself to inspect the
thing more closely, I saw that the mouth contained teeth—not the
rounded molars of a herbivore, but the saber-like teeth of a gar
fish. The thing’s body was serpentine and lacked real substance,
and the frail, spindly legs seemed to have been added merely as an
afterthought.

“
Dear God,” I breathed, and
turned to look at Bennet. He still stood outside the stall, his
eyes averted downward. Whether it was from shame for not entering
the stall with me or from no desire to look upon the pitiful
creature again, I do not know.

“
Some kind of poison,
wouldn’t you think?” he asked, still regarding the earthen floor.
“I mean, it would have to be, to cause something like …
that.”

“
I have no idea,” I replied
truthfully. “I have never before seen anything like it.” I
shuddered involuntarily. “What do you mean to do with
it?”

He shrugged. “It won’t live for long. Can’t.
The mother’ll have nothing to do with it.”

I couldn’t properly say that I blamed the
cow. Yet the thought of leaving one of God’s creatures, even one so
horribly disfigured, to starve to death did not sit well with me. I
figured it would be more humane to end the beast’s suffering, and
said as much.

“
Do as you like,” Bennet
said. “I ain’t touching the thing.”

I started to point out that it was, after
all, his property, and that it was only fitting that he should
assist me, but I wished to take my leave as soon as possible, and I
didn’t see the need for argument. I inquired if he might have a
shovel handy, and he went to fetch one.

The few moments that Bennet was gone were
some of the longest of my life. Though reason told me I had nothing
to fear from the misshapen mass on the floor behind me, the
mountain boy within me wanted desperately to flee. That part of me
had no truck with poisons or freaks of nature. To that
superstitious part of my mind, the reason behind the deformed calf
was obvious.

Witchcraft
.

I shook my head vigorously, determined not
to fall victim to hysteria. Events such as this were not uncommon;
most travelling carnivals had their share of such oddities stored
in large glass jars filled with formaldehyde. It was an unfortunate
event, yes, but there was nothing supernatural about it. The
weather and lateness of the hour simply combined to make it seem
so.

Bennet returned with the shovel, and I gave
an involuntary sigh of relief. Steeling my resolve, I took the
shovel from him and turned back to the pitiful creature. I took no
pleasure in dispatching the beast, yet I would be lying if I said
that I did not feel somehow better when it had taken its last
breath. I do not say this to seem cruel. It was as if some small
part of the world had been returned to normal. Even the cow seemed
to sense it, and relaxed somewhat.

I helped Bennet wrangle the carcass into a
burlap sack, after which we hastily buried the thing behind the
barn. As we walked back to the pickup, I couldn’t help but notice a
change in him. The relief on his face was palpable. We spoke little
on the drive back to my house, but as I was readying to get out of
the truck, he put a hand on my shoulder.

“
I want to thank you,” he
said. “As for that business with the property line, I want to
apologize.”

“
There’s no need,” I
assured him. “Bygones are bygones, as far as I’m
concerned.”

“
Even so, I feel bad for
the way I acted.” His face brightened somewhat. “Why don’t you come
over for dinner Friday? I haven’t had much company since the Missus
passed away.”

I started to beg off, but felt instantly
ashamed. What would it hurt?

“
That would be nice. Thank
you.” I again started to exit the pickup, but a question suddenly
popped into my mind, and I turned back to him before I could think
about it.

“
You haven’t been up to the
sinkhole lately, have you?”

“
I was up that way last
week, hunting. Why?”

“
Just wondering if it was
still there,” I lied. “Haven’t been there since I was a
boy.”

“
Hasn’t changed a bit,” he
said. “Nothing much around these parts does.”

I nodded. “Well, good evening. I’ll see you
Friday.” I alit from the truck and shut the door behind me.

I stood in the rain and I watched his
taillights until they faded from view, and then I turned and walked
to my house, shivering not from the night’s damp chill, but from a
premonition of things to come.

***

The familiar drudgery of work served to
soothe my nerves over the next several days, and by the time Friday
came, logic and reason once again ruled my mind. Though the
frightful image of the deformed calf had not diminished in my
memory, I now attributed it no more superstition than the sight of
a black cat or the accidental spilling of salt at the dinner table.
It was fodder for the uneducated, and nothing more.

The day was still bright and warm when I
arrived home, though the shadows were beginning to lengthen. I
hastened inside, resolved to forego any work, and went about
preparing myself for the evening. I had even undergone a change of
attitude and was actually looking forward to dinner with Bennet,
having decided that it would serve me well to be on good terms with
my closest neighbor.

The sun had just settled on the mountaintop
when I emerged from my house and walked to my car. The air had
taken on the hint of a chill, but the coming evening held the
promise of clear skies and no rain. Spring had indeed arrived, and
with it the anticipation of a world reborn. I whistled a tune as I
started the engine and pulled the car out into the lane.

By the time I arrived at Bennet’s house, the
hollow was cast in deep shadow. A warm light shone from the windows
of the farmhouse, beckoning with the enticement of good food and
fellowship. I got out of the car and was preparing to take the
walkway which led to the front porch when a scream from the barn
froze me in my tracks.

There followed the sound of quite a ruckus,
and my first thought was that Bennet was being trampled by some of
his livestock. I darted toward the structure, my mind already
trying to judge the length of time it would take me to get him to
the doctor in the event he was badly injured. I nearly slipped in
the mud more than once, managing to retain my balance only through
sheer luck.

I arrived at the entrance to the barn only
to be greeted by darkness and silence. Was I already too late? With
fumbling and shaky hands, I groped for the oil lamp Bennet had used
several days before. Eventually, my fingers settled on the object,
and I grasped it with one hand while digging for my matches with
the other. The first match slipped from my numb fingers, but I was
able to steady myself enough to light the second. I touched the
flame to the oil lamp’s wick and adjusted the flame.

Earlier in the week, on my previous trip to
the barn, I had witnessed a sight so disturbing that I’d been
certain that it would haunt my dreams forever. But the scene that
the light from the oil lamp revealed to my beleaguered eyes
assaulted my senses by tenfold.

The thing was the size of an adult horse,
its stature made seemingly larger due to the fact that it was
standing on its hind legs. Its elongated, serpentine body was
covered with bristles of grayish-black hair, though that was the
limit to any resemblance to a mammal. The shape of the head was
that of a large viper, and the burning eyes set on either side
featured the vertical pupils of a poisonous snake. The mouth was
elongated, and the lower jaw was unhinged to such a degree as to
allow for the consumption of its prey as a whole.

The upper part of Bennet’s lifeless body,
from the chest up, protruded from the thing’s horrible maw.

I screamed, uncaring that I drew the
creature’s attention. It whirled upon me, its body seeming to coil
like a cobra preparing to strike. Upon recognizing my presence, the
monster hurriedly sucked down the last of its meal. With a dreadful
slurping sound, Bennet was no more.

By divine grace, my rational mind was
somehow able to regain control of my paralyzed body. As the thing
before me drew back in preparation to attack, I slung the oil lamp
with all the strength I could muster. The lamp hit the creature mid
body and broke apart, dousing the fiendish beast with flaming oil.
Droplets of burning liquid splattered onto the hay-covered floor,
producing an instant inferno.

The monstrosity drew back upon itself and
emitted an ear-piercing cry. It began to thrash about in a futile
effort to rid its body of the burning oil. I gazed upon the
grotesque sight for a few brief moments, then hurried across the
threshold and barred the heavy wooden doors behind me. No sooner
had I retreated several steps away when the doors shook from a
violent impact.

The thing was attempting to break free.

I turned and ran to my car, not daring even
the slightest glance back at the burning barn. Smoke from the
engulfed building descended upon me as I reached the vehicle,
burning my eyes and lungs. I started the car, put the transmission
into reverse, and backed out of the drive with such reckless
abandon that I plowed Bennet’s mailbox down in the process.