Weirder Than Weird (12 page)

THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR

     A magnificent harvest moon held sway in the night sky. Its resplendent glow flooded the farm in a silvery cast. The old man wearily straightened himself against another long day’s toil; a leathery hand cupped the small of his back as the other relieved a trickle of sweat from his brow.                                           

   
“You know Casey, this just might turn out to be a good year after all.”

   
But even as the words left him he felt the need to be more cautious with his enthusiasm, for the last three years had been anything but successful for farming in Brier county on account of the drought. This year, however, the Lord finally saw fit to provide an abundance of rain to make up for past deficiencies and the corn responded by tipping the night sky like a dense forest.

   
This long awaited change of fortune came too late for many of his neighbors who, in their disillusioned efforts, sought the refuge of city life but the old man was of a different mind. Not only was farming all he really knew, but there was a tie that held him steadfast to the farm, some might say an historic obligation. Raising a soiled fist to his face he took in a deep breath. The life giving aroma coursed through him and replenished his spirit while the words of his father came back to him, “
Son, take care of the soil and it will do the same for you, just as it has for many generations of Took.“
The old man always lived by those words and was proud to be part of its heritage but in reality the farm could not survive another bad harvest and this had been weighing heavy on his mind for a long time now.

   
Through the warm night air came the sound of a screen door slamming in the distance and a voice soon rang out, “Pa, come get yer supper, it’s getting late!”

   
“Well Casey,” said the old man, “Another days gone by us, let’s not keep mother waiting.”   

   
Looking up approvingly and staying close at his heels, his shaggy companion followed his master through endless rows of corn, past the old grey barn and up to the steps of the clapboard farm house. Fried chicken and dumplings was the night’s fare and after the evening’s meal, the old couple, as was their custom, retired to the front porch where Mother read her bible and the old man sat rocking with Casey by his side. Smoke billowed from his corn cob pipe as he looked out into the fields.

   
“This year’s crop is as good as I’ve ever seen, Mother,” said the old man, “not much longer now and I’ll be able to call the boys in for harvesting.”

   
She could hear the sense of pride back in his voice; the last few years had been emotionally draining on him and she thought he looked extremely haggard at times but he managed to rebound this year with a renewed vigor and purpose.

   
Looking up from her bible, she smiled, “I’m so glad, Pa, it’s been a long time comin‘. You’ve worked so hard.”

   
“We both have,” replied the old man as he took her hand in his.

   
For a short while they sat discussing the day’s events with mother recounting the loud reports that echoed from the hills and how it was upsetting her chickens and the old man chuckled as he related his ill-fated attempts at capturing that crafty old possum that kept getting into the barn.

   
After a time, the old woman stood and bid her husband good night with a kiss on the forehead. “Don’t be long now Pa, you need your rest.”

   
“Not to worry, Mother, I’ll be in shortly,” he said as he sat rocking and puffing away at his pipe.

   
A gentle warm breeze crossed the porch and carried with it the sweet aroma of Mother’s lilac bushes. The night was thick with the sound of chirping crickets and deep throated bull frogs from the nearby pond.

   
After a series of uncontrollable yawns, the old man decided it best to retire but, as he started to rise, he noticed Casey standing erect as stone and staring intently into the darkness.

   
“What’s wrong old fella?”

   
Casey let out a high pitched yelp and quickly retreated under the rocker. Out of the night came a rush of air that filled the porch like a small torrent, accompanied by the sound of large flapping wings.

   
The old man’s face blanched as he sat in stunned silence.

   
Perched upon the railing was a hulking dark figure, its hideous appearance unlike anything he had ever seen before. The creature glared back at him through liquidy black eyes that blinked painfully as though repulsed by the porch light. The whole of its body was scaly and it sported two large bat like wings. A thick angular jaw jutted forward, dark and granite like, supporting fleshy jowls with thick heavy lips that hid multiple rows of serrated teeth. Its ears came to a distinct point on top and the entirety of its frame was supported by two well -muscled legs that ended in three razor sharp talons each. One was clutching something unrecognizable.

   
The moment rendered the old man incapable of the slightest utterance but the silence was finally broached when the creature began speaking in a shockingly humanlike voice.

   
“Good evening farmer! I saw your light from a distance and decided to drop in and pay you a visit. By the way, I hope you don’t mind that I sample some of your excellent crop, you see, it’s been ages since I’ve eaten and I am extremely famished!” The creature raised what appeared to be an ear of corn to its mouth and, with a ravenous appetite disposed of it outright.

   
It seemed an eternity for the old man to shake off the shock of what was taking place. Yes, the beast could most certainly talk, but how was this possible? Could his own weariness be playing tricks on him? He rubbed his eyes thinking that the apparition might be gone when he opened them but it was not so.

   
Gathering himself as best he could, the old man stammered, “N… no… I don’t mind at all, by all means… we have never turned down a hungry guest on this farm.”

     “Excellent!” responded the creature, and for a long moment the two stared inquisitively at one another.

     “Well, I should probably introduce myself,” said the old man. “My name is John, John Took and I would be much obliged in knowing who you are, that is…ah… what you are and where you came from, beggin’ your pardon. You see, I’ve lived here my whole life and have never made an acquaintance of such… of such a person as yourself.” The old man squirmed at these last words.

   
The creature laughed, baring its gleaming sharp teeth. “As you can plainly see, farmer, I am not a person as is familiar to you. Your reaction at seeing an oddity such as myself for the first time is understandable, but I can assure you of one thing: me and my kind have existed in this world practically since the dawn of time itself, in fact, eons before your human ancestors made their, shall we say… inglorious debut out of the primordial slime! We have since watched your progression with much interest but became disheartened by your inherent war like nature. You see, my dear farmer, your race has developed many a flaw over the course of its short existence and quite frankly self-destruction seems to be your likely fate.”

   
The old man was shaken by the creature’s brutal assessment of mankind but, as he considered those words the reasonable part of him, had to conclude that there was a ring of truth behind what it said.

   
Yes,” the old man said with a sigh of resignation, “I suppose that you’re close to the point…as a race, we have had less than glorious moments in our past but still…there are those who have always stood up for what is decent and righteous!”

   
As he said this, his right hand patted the bible on the table.

   
The creature glanced down and let out a terrifying hiss that startled the old man. “Ah yes! How could I ever forget that famous book, the very same that was carried forth by a host of soldiers many years ago!”

   
As it said this, a pained memory darkened its countenance.

   
“Before we came to this land, we had spent long years in hibernation in the dry caves surrounding what was called the Dead Sea, only our sleep was disturbed by a bloodthirsty mob from another land. It’s a vision that will always stay with me…one of a disheveled army trudging up the slopes towards the caves, banners of red crosses flapping in the wind and sharp points of metallic death glinting in the scorching sun, seeking all the while to rend the flesh of my innocent brethren. As I remember, they carried that very book before them, a book I am told that begs love and tolerance for all but in reality only brought us death! They called us devils for our appearance alone and vowed to wipe clean our noble lineage from the Earth. Regrettably, many of my kin perished in those caves but some of us managed to escape. We traveled a long distance, finally finding refuge in the dark caverns of these surrounding hills where we remained in a deep slumber ever since, regaining our strength and awakening only to repopulate our species. But alas! Once again our sleep has been disturbed!”

   
The creature let out another frightening hiss as its mighty talons scraped and clenched tight upon the porch railing.

   
For a long moment, the old man sat pondering what the creature had said and was sympathetic. He considered offering an explanation to the disturbance in the hills which was, of course, the result of miners blasting for ore but decided not to mention it since he knew full well the mining would not cease and besides, the creature was enraged enough as it was.

   
“Tell me of your kin, if you please,” asked the old man, trying to find a way to lighten the tension. “I’m interested in knowing more about them.”

   
The creature shuffled and straightened its bulk. “We are a proud and ancient race, I could spend hours enlightening you to our noble history, my dear farmer, but I must make haste because my brethren are hungry and understandably in a foul mood. I have left our refuge this very night to scout for an abundant source of food as well as a safe place to once again hibernate. This task is upon me alone; I must not fail because the survival of my race hangs in the balance.”

   
A few moments passed in silence as the old man rocked in his chair, contemplating what he just heard. “Yes… I understand your plight,” he finally said with a look of concern. He then raised his head as if the real implications of their conversation had finally hit home. “Tell me,” he asked, trying not to give away the sudden alarm that rose inside of him, “just how many kin of yours are hidden away in those hills?”

   
The creature showed no sign of suspicion in the question and answered freely. “Since coming to this land, we have been fortunate enough to reestablish our numbers to ensure the continued longevity of our race, so I suppose that a strong Metabru now exists, which in your numbers would equate to about a thousand, give or take.”

   
The old man raised his eyebrows.

   
“Now I have a question for you, farmer. Did I not see a body of water as I passed over your land?”

   
“I reckon so,” replied the old man with a measure of hesitation. “That would be the Took pond, our only real water source here on the farm.”

   
“Lovely! Just lovely!” responded the creature. “You know, farmer, it just occurred to me that you and I are not so different. Do we not feel an obligation to the continued welfare of our kin and would we not do whatever was necessary to see that their needs were fulfilled?”

   
The creature searched the old man’s eyes for some glimmer of understanding, then after a few moments, the old man scratched his head and nodded his agreement.

   
“Excellent!” cried the creature as if coming to a satisfying conclusion. “I see that we are of the same mind!”

   
An air of urgency suddenly percolated in the beast and it bid the farmer a hasty farewell. Turning abruptly and with one powerful thrust, it was aloft once again.

   
The old man now stood and Casey made a cautious appearance from under the rocker, barking in the creature’s wake. As he watched the beast rise into the night, the old man considered all that was said. The dark figure soon became silhouetted against the soft glow of an enormous harvest moon. The old man needed to make a quick decision. His outstretched hand trembled as it passed over the bible, hesitating a moment as if struggling with some internal debate, then reaching for what lay beyond. He brought it up to his shoulder and a loud explosion soon followed. In the distance, an unearthly cry split the night and the ancient wings of the creature folded, its jumbled mass plummeting to Earth in a lifeless heap.

   
Mother came swiftly down the stairs and threw the screen door open. “Lord have mercy! Why the shooting Pa? What’s wrong?”

   
“Relax, Mother,” said the old man as he placed his rifle back against the wall. “Just that pesky possum again… I think I got him this time.”

   
“Well then!” she said with a stern but relieved look. “We’ll talk about this in the morning… in the meantime let’s try to get some sleep!”