Tribulation Bay Chapter FIVE

Andrew drove the U-Haul truck and hitch down to the service station so he could turn them in before he was charged for any extra time. Seeing nobody out in the lot, he tapped on the horn, but got no response. He peeked in what seemed to be some sort of office, again he found nobody there.

“Anybody here?” He called into the garage, which was open, which meant somebody had to be there.

“Be right out,” a decidedly female Russian sounding voice called out.

“OK.” Andrew looked up to see a 7' tall woman lumbering towards him with a 25 pound weight sledge-hammer flung over her shoulder like it was nothing. Shadows covered the features of the giant woman's face as she moved in closer and closer. He let out one of his “Christian curses” as he tried to back away, but tripped over himself and fell to the ground. He repeated the same curse over and over again as the sledge-hammer raised from her shoulder and over her head.

“Got you now!” The giant woman came down with the hammer as a baby raccoon looked up in fear anticipating its final moment.

“Now wait just a minute!” Andrew stopped the hammer with his hands. “I may be new in town, but I know you don't going around pounding the life out of the local wildlife just for fun!”

“Of course not for fun,” the woman stepped out of the shadows, as she did, the fact that she wasn't an unattractive woman was revealed. In a different setting, she could be a beauty contestant, and not just Miss Congeniality either. “He is pest!”

As the little raccoon looked up at him pleadingly, Andrew looked down at him caringly. “Of course they they can be a little bit of a pest sometimes, but they're still good natured and really mean no harm despite being mischievous.”

“Really?”

“I bet he was just looking for someplace dark and quiet to sleep,” Andrew scrounged around the cab of the U-Haul and found an unopened pack of crackers, he opened it and presented one of them to the raccoon, who cautiously took the cracker. “He was hungry too.”

“I'm sorry,” the woman said, “we got off on wrong foot, I think.”

Andrew looked at the sledge hammer still poised to strike. “I think I'll be less afraid of you if you put that sledge-hammer away,”

“Oh,” the woman placed the sledge-hammer just inside the garage, behind the track of the sliding door then wiped her greasy hands on a rag, not that it did her any good. Finally she held out her still greasy hand. “Just call me Olga.”

Andrew just waved, they could do a proper handshake at a later time. “I'm Andrew Collins, I just moved into the house up on the hill.”

“Oh! You're new pastor!” Olga's eyes glanced up to the area of the church on the hillside.

“Yes,”

“Have you met any of the people in town yet?”

“Well, I met the most peculiar woman last night, a bossy old hag who of all things wants to write my sermons for me.”

“Sounds like Miss. McGrudibeggar.”

“Sounds right. Then I met your charming sheriff.”

“Last night?”

“Around midnight.”

“What got her out of bed at that time?”

“Oh, I don't think it was a what, as much as a who, simply because I was still unloading the U-Haul at midnight.” Andrew placed his hand on the U-Haul. “Speaking of which, that's why I'm here to turn this in.”

“Step this way,” Olga directed Andrew towards the office, “it should only take a few minutes.”

It took them exactly 10 minutes to do all the paperwork, then Andrew found himself walking back in the direction of the house, which he estimated would be a 10 minute walk.

“Hey, you want a pet?”

Andrew looked at the raccoon who was still hanging around unafraid of him. “I'm sure his family is around here somewhere.”

“He's been around for three days, seen no other raccoons come looking for him.”

“Did your family leave you behind, or you simply wander too far away to find your way back to them?”

The raccoon danced around him as if starved for attention, as well as food.

“Either way,” Olga frowned, “he can't stay here. Take him with you.”

Clark was finally able to go through the house and box up all the things that were important to him, which really wasn't a whole lot, his TV, PS4 & 5, a small book of games like the Assassin's Creed series and the like and mainly his clothes.

Most of the rest of the stuff were all the nick-knacks that his mother had collected over the entirety of her life. While they might have once meant something to her, they meant nothing to him, so whatever his dear sister didn't want, was going as a donation to the thrift shop on Monday. He noticed Rachael going through the jewelry case.

“See anything you want?” Clark asked.

“I thought this thrift store ring you got me was cheap,” Rachael looked at the ring around her neck, “but this is the crown jewel compared to some of this junk.”

“I have a feeling that the thrift store that I'll be donating these to will be making more than they're worth.” Clark ran his hand through the drawer full of pure costume jewelry.

Dawn sat on the porch of the house, as she watched the tow truck come up the driveway. “Mo-om!”

“What is it?” Carolyn came running out of the house to see what was the matter. When she saw Andrew sitting in the passenger seat she knew what was going on. “It's just your father.”

“But why did he need a ride? The whole town doesn't cover that much area.” Dawn wondered as she moved in closer to the tow truck, that's when she noticed he was holding something that was wrapped in a blanket.

“Oh no!” Carolyn groaned, “I've got a bad feeling about this!”

Andrew stepped out of the truck still holding the blanket.

“There's something inside!” Dawn began to poke around the blanker.

“Did you pick up a stray cat?” Carolyn asked.

“Trust me, it's not a cat,” Olga stepped out of the driver's seat and stretched out her muscular form.

“Oh,” Carolyn, who was just over 5' tall had to look up and up some more just to see the hulking figure before her, “I hope you're friendly!”

“I can either be the Jolly Green Giant or the Incredible Hulk, depending on what mode you put me in.”

“I see,” Dawn was more interested in what was sleeping inside the blanket, “can I see what it is?”

“Now Dawn,” Andrew said, “I didn't exactly bring this guy up here to be a pet, just figured he'd be a lot safer running around up here instead of the middle of town.”

“Just show us what is in the blanket!” Carolyn demanded.

Dawn finally got to pulling the blanket away, revealing the baby raccoon that was sleeping. “It's a baby raccoon!”

“You are not letting that thing inside the house!”

“Can we keep him?”

“Dawn,” Andrew said, “guys like him are happier outside. He's right at the bay which has loads of fish, things for him to hunt. And your mother's right, we shouldn't invite him to come into the house.”

Dawn heard none of what her father said, instead she ran into the house and grabbed a can of tuna, opened it and poured it into a dish. When she came back out, the raccoon was wandering around the porch, so Dawn put the dish of tuna down there where he hungrily began to eat it

“He's your problem now,” Olga snatched the blanket out of Andrew's hand and lumbered towards the tow truck.

“Will you be coming to church tomorrow?”

“Maybe. Listen I need to go, I left garage open and unattended.” At that Olga pressed her foot on the gas and the tow truck pulled away.

Dawn came back outside with a cat bed and shelter. “I told you this cat bed would come in handy!”

“You don't want to make him too comfortable,” Carolyn watched Dawn place the cat bed inside the small shelter.

“There you go, Bandit.”

“Too late,” Andrew chuckled as he leaned down to pet the raccoon, “she already named him.”

Clark had a few things to do in the yard, not much, but there were a small amount of things that he wanted to collect, nothing much of any major interest to anyone except for him. The patio had become his only sanctuary inside the house he has grown to despise. He sat down on the patio chair, hoping it would withstand his weight one last time, it did but only with the loudest of groans.

“This is certainly not going with us,” Clark observed.

“There you are,” Rachael responded as she poked her head out the back door with two cups of coffee, “made you some coffee.”

Clark took the cup that was passed to him and smelled it, there was a strange smell to it despite being black.

“I found one of your mother's stashes of whiskey hidden in the basement,”

“Your wrong there,” Clark said, just to get a look from Rachael, “it's not mom's it was my dad's.”

“But he died around 10 years ago, tripped and fell down the steps. At least that's the story my mom told the police.”

“Do you believe it?”

“Not now, not after what she tried to do to me.” Clark sipped at the coffee and let the taste of the whiskey take effect.

“Murder!”

Clark nodded. “I was only 11 at the time, and I didn't know the truth one way or the other, so I was made to go with her story. But after what she did to me at the same steps just last night, I'm beginning to wonder.”

“No wonder you want to get out of here, too many bad memories staring you in the face.”

“You don't know the half of it.”

“I know she was a verbally abusive woman,”

“You know the saying “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”?”

“That saying is a lie made up by people who like to abuse people with their words. Words can make or break a person.”

“Try having someone do nothing but degrade you every day of your life. Try having some brag to you that you were a mistake that never should have been. Then when Lara smartened up and moved out around 5 years ago, I suddenly became important enough to become her caretaker. Not that I had the know-how to be one, not at 16, and not that I was paid to do so.”

“I remember hearing her say that to you once or twice when I was a kid, but I never realized that it was an ongoing thing.”

“Then after degrading me to no end, she would come out with “Children obey your parents”,” how do I honor someone who degrades you day in and day out.”

Rachael smiled. “A few verses later that same passage says “and you fathers (and mothers) do not provoke your children to wrath”. She provoked you to no end. And in that light she probably got what was coming to her.”

“I know you're right,” Clark looked up to see a raccoon looking up at them.

“Hey look a raccoon.” Rachael held her hand out to it.

Clark noticed that it was foaming at the mouth and was poised to attack. “I wouldn't touch that if I were you.”

“Why not?” Rachael noticed the foaming mouth. “Rabies.”

“Get inside,” Clark held the door open so Rachael could get inside, “he's coming after you!”

The rabid raccoon jumped furiously at Rachael as the door slammed in its face, but it began scratching at the door to get in.

“Give me the gun,”

Rachael saw a gun on the kitchen counter, but instead of handing Clark the gun she took off the safety and pulled the hammer back. “Get up on the counter and turn the knob so that it can come in on its own.”

“I sure hope you know what you're doing,” Clark climbed up onto the counter.

“So do I,” Rachael responded.

“Well that sounded very assuring!”

Rachael shrugged as Clark turned the handle just enough to let the raccoon push the door open, she waited for it to pop its head in, then pulled the trigger. The raccoon's head popped like a ripe skin boil and landed everywhere. The kick of the gun pushed Rachael back just a bit.

“Are you OK?” Clark looked at the mess made when Rachael shot the raccoon.

“I'm good. I guess I can check off firing a gun off my bucket list. Did any get on you?”

Clark looked at himself. “Just a little bit on my jeans.”

“I guess you should take them off and discard them, don't want to take any chances,”

Clark got down from the counter and dropped his pants, as he watched Rachael shy away.

“Oh come on! It's not like you haven't seen me with my pants off, and I haven't seen you with your clothes off.”

“But that was when I was in my room in my house, and you were in your room here!”

“How is this any different?” Clark looked at the carcass that lay sprawled out on the floor. “We can talk about that later, let's deal with our dead raccoon.”

“I'll get one of the packing boxes,” Rachael grabbed one of the smaller boxes and set it up, while Clark put a pair of kitchen gloves on, then lay the box on the side where Clark swept the carcass in with an old broom.

Clark then wiped down where the blood of the raccoon splattered. After removing his wallet and the like, he put his pants and the rag into the same box, then proceeded to go outside in his boxers.

“You're not going out that way?”

Clark proceeded to take the box outside to the trashcan just a few feet away.

“I'm glad Dawn wasn't here to see this.” Rachael chuckled

“Knowing her, she probably would have tried to make a pet out of it.”