With a sigh, my partner turned
his back on me.
I waited a moment for the Goblin to follow suit. “You too, Karl." Karl kicked at the ground with his tiny boots muttering something under his breath. Begrudgingly, he turned away.
I quickly unbuttoned my blouse and pulled it off. The cool air felt good on my naked flesh for a moment. Looking down, I inspected where the Gargoyle's talons had torn into my chest and shoulder. I didn't realize how torn up I actually was. Tossing the bloody, torn shirt into the trunk, I carefully slipped the v-neck sweater over my head and pulled it on. It was a little more form-fitting than I usually liked to wear, but it was either this or the stained shirt. Nothing said ‘crazed serial killer’ quite like big blood splatters down the front of a person's shirt. Leaning against the bumper, I waited for the dull throbbing to stop. Standing up, I closed the trunk. “Okay,” I breathed, “let's go." "Where exactly are we going?” Toby asked as he turned back to me and followed me around the car. "To meet the Maker.” I smiled. “Grab the Sprite, Toby." "The Maker?” Toby stopped and pulled open the car door. Reaching down to the floor, he then lifted the Sprite's bottle and tucked it under his arm. "Hey,” the Sprite protested as the movement woke it, “careful, meat bag!" "Stuff it, firebug.” Toby quickened his pace to catch up with me. “Rose?" We were way out of town. And it was only here that he could get away with this debacle of good taste and design. Sitting amidst a lot of dirt, sagebrush, and long-since abandoned cars, was a long, rectangular, singlewide, mobile home. The tan and brown paint on the siding had started to chip off revealing the silver tin beneath. Weeds and sagebrush were overtaking the yard and house that looked like it had once been fervently maintained. Numerous colored pinwheels lined the sidewalk spinning and sparkling slowly in the morning's calm, while various stone lawn gnomes were scattered amidst the weeds still trying to go about their lives. A four-foot chainlink fence once surrounded the home, but several of the posts were now missing and the one closest to the adjacent driveway was dented and bent so badly it looked as if it had been hit on a daily basis. Karl was right. It was a dump. "Does anyone else hear banjo music?” Toby asked under his breath. I smacked Toby on the shoulder. “This isn'tDeliverance ." "No.” Karl laughed in amazement. “But this place is cracker-tastic! I haven't seen this many gnomes in one place since my visit to Santa's Workshop!" I shook my head. I really needed to start leaving these two back at the office. Running my hand down my face, I steadied myself.Had to do this. “Come on,” I said finally. “Let's go." Once I made my way up the weed-covered sidewalk, I walked lightly up the rickety wooden staircase. The entire structure wobbled beneath me. Tapping on the flimsy trailer door with my knuckles, I waited. Listening to the faint rustling inside, I knew the Maker was home, although I wasn't sure he would be happy to see us at this hour of the morning. I knocked again.
I waited a moment for the Goblin to follow suit. “You too, Karl." Karl kicked at the ground with his tiny boots muttering something under his breath. Begrudgingly, he turned away.
I quickly unbuttoned my blouse and pulled it off. The cool air felt good on my naked flesh for a moment. Looking down, I inspected where the Gargoyle's talons had torn into my chest and shoulder. I didn't realize how torn up I actually was. Tossing the bloody, torn shirt into the trunk, I carefully slipped the v-neck sweater over my head and pulled it on. It was a little more form-fitting than I usually liked to wear, but it was either this or the stained shirt. Nothing said ‘crazed serial killer’ quite like big blood splatters down the front of a person's shirt. Leaning against the bumper, I waited for the dull throbbing to stop. Standing up, I closed the trunk. “Okay,” I breathed, “let's go." "Where exactly are we going?” Toby asked as he turned back to me and followed me around the car. "To meet the Maker.” I smiled. “Grab the Sprite, Toby." "The Maker?” Toby stopped and pulled open the car door. Reaching down to the floor, he then lifted the Sprite's bottle and tucked it under his arm. "Hey,” the Sprite protested as the movement woke it, “careful, meat bag!" "Stuff it, firebug.” Toby quickened his pace to catch up with me. “Rose?" We were way out of town. And it was only here that he could get away with this debacle of good taste and design. Sitting amidst a lot of dirt, sagebrush, and long-since abandoned cars, was a long, rectangular, singlewide, mobile home. The tan and brown paint on the siding had started to chip off revealing the silver tin beneath. Weeds and sagebrush were overtaking the yard and house that looked like it had once been fervently maintained. Numerous colored pinwheels lined the sidewalk spinning and sparkling slowly in the morning's calm, while various stone lawn gnomes were scattered amidst the weeds still trying to go about their lives. A four-foot chainlink fence once surrounded the home, but several of the posts were now missing and the one closest to the adjacent driveway was dented and bent so badly it looked as if it had been hit on a daily basis. Karl was right. It was a dump. "Does anyone else hear banjo music?” Toby asked under his breath. I smacked Toby on the shoulder. “This isn'tDeliverance ." "No.” Karl laughed in amazement. “But this place is cracker-tastic! I haven't seen this many gnomes in one place since my visit to Santa's Workshop!" I shook my head. I really needed to start leaving these two back at the office. Running my hand down my face, I steadied myself.Had to do this. “Come on,” I said finally. “Let's go." Once I made my way up the weed-covered sidewalk, I walked lightly up the rickety wooden staircase. The entire structure wobbled beneath me. Tapping on the flimsy trailer door with my knuckles, I waited. Listening to the faint rustling inside, I knew the Maker was home, although I wasn't sure he would be happy to see us at this hour of the morning. I knocked again.