by P.S. Gifford
Charles pulled into the overgrown driveway and gets out of his trusted old MGB.
“A house call!” He muses “I can’t believe I got talked into making a house call”
He slowly walks up to the over sized front door and pauses for just a moment feeling hesitant. Ringing the bell finally fighting back the images in his head sparked by persistent rumors he had heard since a child about Mrs. Higgins. “Old Mrs. Witchy Higgins” they used to call her when he was a lad. “Christ she seemed old even back then.” he remembers.
A chill unexpectedly races up Charles’ spine as he watches a shadow of movement from behind the door. Then the screeching door was opened…
Charles took a deep breath and paused before he spoke scrutinizing warily the grey haired diminutive lady in a long bright red day coat, with her hair in curlers in front of him.
“Harmless” he reasons as his confidence suddenly increases.
“Hello” he says calmly, “I am here to see Mr. Farnaby”
Mrs. Higgins sparkling green eyes open with apparent delight.
“Ah yes Mr. Farnaby!” She replies in a buoyant fashion. “It was really most naughty of him he fell out of the tree trying to escape. Such a naughty boy, but he is all I have for company now and I think he has hurt himself. “Please come in he’s through here…” Mrs. Higgins leads the bewildered doctor into a hallway and then to a door underneath the stairs presumably leading to a downstairs cellar.
“A darn cat!” Charles thinks “she has called me out for a stupid darn cat”
Charles had only completed medicine school a few months earlier, and when he had heard the old doctor in his small home town was going to retire he had deemed it fate, and invested all he could beg and borrow in his new practice. However old Dr. Jones apparently found retirement not to his liking and has continued practicing, leaving Charles pitifully short of patients.
“This is a new low” he reflects to himself as he stumbles down into the cellar.
“In there.” Mrs. Higgins murmurs. “Mr. Farnaby is injured down there.”
With Mrs. Higgins standing behind him and gently prompting him he opens the door. Suddenly a huge furry claw slashes out at him catching his cheek. He slams the door shut and glares at Mrs. Higgins.
“I thought there was a tiny cat down there!” he pants with sweat beading on his now bloodied face.
“Now…Whatever made you think Mr. Farnaby was a cat?” Mrs. Higgins whispered. As she spoke the door abruptly swings opens again unexpectedly and a push with strength unbefitting an old woman sent Charles flailing down the stairs.
“Feeding time Mr. Farnaby” she cooed affectionately “Come and get it!”
The end
Originally posted 07/02/2005
