Evil, Veiled by Darkness

It was nearing one thirty a.m. when Cory awakened from his drunken slumber.  His jaw hurt where Todd had smacked him with a frying pan, his nose was swollen from being elbowed in the face, plus he had a rip roaring

head ache and a stomach that felt like it was about to turn inside out.  He just made it to the door when he heaved up the contents of a six pack and a half-quart of whiskey all over the front porch.  He nearly fell down the steps, grabbed

the nearest tree and retched with dry heaves for nearly a minute.

As his eyes cleared, he glanced beneath the yard light and noticed the truck was missing from it‘s parking spot.  “God damn that son of a bitchin’ brother of mine”, snarled Cory under his breath.  His next thoughts went unspoken.  “He better damn well not have let that noisy bum go lose.  Wouldn’t put it past him though.  Todd’s got no backbone.   I’ll hafta take care of that snoopin’ trespasser jist like I did that damn game warden!”

Cory stumbled around to the back of the garage to where the old chicken coop was located.  He kicked open the door, pulled his revolver from his coat pocket, and flipped on the light switch.  The feeble glow of the dirt encrusted sixty-watt light bulb dimly outlined the shape of their captive, who appeared to be curled up under his thin blanket and sound asleep.  Cory took two long strides to where Hap was stretched out on the straw and gave him a kick in the back.

“Wake up ya snoopy son of a bitch.  You and me is goin’ fer a little walk in the woods,......and only one of us is comin’ back!”

Edna decided she might as well be driving around looking for her missing husband and the black Ford pickup that she was positive had taken him away, rather than pacing the floors of their house waiting for a call from the police that might never come.  As she was heading west on Highway 28, planning to return to the area around Germfask, she saw the highway sigh for County Highway H-33.  She remembered looking at a road map and noticing H-33 and H-44 were a “shortcut” to Highway 77, the very area she intended to search.  She made a left turn onto

H-33 and headed south.

Deputy Nordahl reached the door of the Howling Beagle, stopped, and listened to the noise inside.  The jukebox blared as Willie Nelson related being “On The Road Again”, while what sounded like a drunken woman sang backup.  A muffled argument was in progress as to who was the best trout fisherman.  Somebody was bragging about how drunk they were going to get during the weekend and everything was mixed with the clunk of pool balls banging together.  The officer unhooked the strap on his holster, swallowed hard, and opened the door of The Howling Beagle.

Hap rolled over at being kicked in the back and feigned confusion by rubbing his eyes with one hand.  “Huh,” he grunted. 

Again, grinning evilly, Cory kneeled down and stuck his revolver in Hap’s face, while handing him a key.  “Take this key and unlock that padlock,.....you and me is goin’ fer a little walk in the woods.  I’ll be comin’ back, but yer only goin’ one way, Mr. Snoop.”

As Hap reached for the key with one hand, his other hand quickly materialized from under the blanket holding a coffee can.  With a flick of his wrist Hap threw a yellow liquid mixed with dissolved chicken scat into the face and eyes of his jailor.  Cory’s reaction was instantaneous!

He let out a howl as the horrible smelling and tasting mixture entered his nose, mouth and eyes.  The urine stung like fire and Cory clutched at his eyes with both hands as his pistol clattered to the floor of the chicken coop.  Hap quickly looped the slack in his restraining chain around the back of Cory’s neck and jerked him forward,......head first into the iron post.

There was a sound like a watermelon being dropped on a hardwood floor,.....followed by silence.  Cory Welchek was in la-la land!  Hap located the key to his freedom, unlocked the padlock and wrapped the chain fairly tightly around Cory’s neck.  He re-locked the padlock; put the key in his pocket, picked up the revolver, then extracted his pocketknife from Cory’s pants pocket.  Looking at his unconscious captor, Hap whispered, “Thanks fer keepin‘ my knife for me, scumbag.”  Then grinning slightly he added, “Turn out the lights, the party’s over asshole.“  Hap then turned out the light, closed the door of the chicken coop, and vanished into the night.