The Vine Garden

Here i was, stuck on a Saturday night, baby sitting my three sibling brats, my sister and two brothers.
i suppose i shouldn’t complain. Mom and Dad don’t get out much. Though, if one wishes to be technical, neither do i, Miss Oroville, from last years “Young Miss Beauty Pageant,” which was held in our town. i won “Miss Congeniality. Better than nothing, i guess, especially since i’m no raving beauty. my formal and informal
wear, year in and year out, are baggy overalls.
my sister Peg and i were in our brother’s room. i was playing Solitaire, Peg was reading a book, Ted and Billy were both asleep in their bunk beds.
Something thudded in the kitchen. Peg and i both jumped and looked up at each other. i got up and tiptoed to the door and listened. The bedroom is at the rear of the house down a long
hall. i, like the conservation dummy i am, had turned out all the lights in the house, except here in the bedroom, and the front porch light for my parents return.
i thought about going out to the kitchen to investigate, me being the oldest, but all the horror movies i’ve ever seen suddenly invaded my mind, like, where those poor brave heroes (unknowing jerks, actually, considering what usually befalls them) go to find out what went bump in the night, and something rotten happens to them, like getting eaten alive, or sliced to pieces, or worse, they just don’t return. i shivered.
i stood there a minute longer, listening and trying to peer through the stygian darkness. i looked back at Peg, shrugged, and went back to my game. i pulled out a pack of cigarettes from the bib of my overalls, extracted one, snapped the filter off and lit it. i took a long, needful drag.
“Why do you always take the filters off?” asked Peg
sarcastically.
“Get more from the inhaling of the tobacco,” i said as i started
a new game.
“Dumb,” said Peg. “You’re too young to smoke, anyway.” She continued reading, i flipped her off and commenced with my game.
All of a sudden a noise erupted like someone, or something, was banging all the pots and pans together in the kitchen.
“Shit!” i cried jumping up. my cards flew everywhere. Peg started crying. i frantically motioned to her to be quiet. i tried to think of what to do. The phone was in the kitchen, so that certainly was no good. i figured the first plan of action would be to close and barricade the bedroom door. The door had no lock, but if they, or (gulp) It, tried to get in, we would see the knob turn (that’s usually the case in the movies, anyway). And then do what? i had no clue.
i slowly walked towards the door. Man, was i surprised, not to mention almost scared out of my wits, when i found there was no longer a door where the door had once been. i nearly freaked then. But i can’t freak out, i thought. i’ve got three lives to protect, including my own.
i backed away from the ugly black gaping hole. The pots and pans started banging again. i breathed a trifle easier. At least It was still in the kitchen. i looked back at Peg. She wasn’t there.
“Peg?” i whispered.
There was no answer. She had probably found a hiding place. i was getting more scared by the seconds. And a little
irritated. How can i protect someone if i don’t know where they are?
i looked at the bunk beds where Ted and Billy had been sleeping. Ted, who had been on the bottom bunk, was gone. Billy
was still on the top bunk, but he seemed to be fading, so was the light, just like it does in a nightmare. i laughed.
“Oh!” i gasped. “This is just a bad dream!”
i pinched myself, though, to make sure. It hurt. Figures. Crap. It isn’t a dream. Crap again.
i heard something out in the hall. i ran across the room to the closet and squeezed behind the dresser that was in the closet. i squished myself against the wall trying to be small and invisible. Then it was quiet again.
After about ten minutes of encroaching claustrophobia i had to move. i started to wriggle out from behind the dresser when my head hit something protruding from the wall. i reached up and touched it. It felt like a door knob, round and smooth with a button in the middle. Weird. i didn’t recall there being a door in the closet. Should i open it i thought desperately? Or just stay put until Mom and Dad got home? Decisions, decisions! Sweat poured down my
forehead stinging my eyes.
The noise erupted in the hall again. That settled it. i turned the knob and opened the door. It opened outwards. Bright sunlight blinded me.
i squinted and shielded my eyes. A small close cropped field of green grass stretched out before me, then ended abruptly, about two hundred feet away, at a forest. It looked almost like an African
jungle, with vines draping down from the tree limbs (the kind of vines Tarzan used as he swung from tree to tree on his merry jaunts through the jungle).
i started across the grassy field to the forest. i felt so much better, and safer, with the warm sunlight all about me. A pang of guilt hit me as i thought of Peg and my brothers, but, after all, they did disappear, leaving me all alone. i looked back at the door. Nothing but a square of blackness where the door had been, and just this flat green field inside, or outside, or wherever it was where i now was. So i turned back and headed towards the forest.
i only got a few feet when a movement coming from the forest caught my eye. i stopped and stared, shielding my eyes again from the blazing glare of the sun. my heart froze. A man, at least it looked like a man, was dangling from one of the vines. His, or it’s, body was twisting about slightly, i supposed from a light breeze (or his death throes, ugh!). i started walking backwards towards the
black square that once had been a door. Going to the forest didn’t seem to be such a great idea anymore.
i didn’t get very far when i felt something crawling about my legs. i gasped, then fearfully looked down. A vine tendril was slowly and surely winding it’s sinewy way up and around my legs. i
screamed and ran. i tripped and fell headfirst into the closet. i got up and tried to slam the door shut on the part of the vine that
was still on the ground. The tendril part about my legs tightened it’s grip and yanked me back outside. i fell again, jumped up right away and tried to rip the crushing vine from my legs. But my skinny fingers were no match for the thick cordy vines.
i kept screaming “Help! Help!” in my head. i didn’t seem to be able to scream the words out loud.
The vine was trying to drag me to the horrible forest. i started a tug of war, but my legs were giving out. A brilliant thought came to my mind. i shoved my hand into my pocket and i pulled out my trusty Cricket lighter. i had no knife so this would have to do the deed. i turned the lighter flame up full bore and brought it close to the cordy fibrous strands, attempting to burn through the crushing tendril. A sound like angry hornets issued from the tendril. Ah ha! i thought. i continued to burn.
A billowing cloud of dust, coming from the forest, was rushing towards me. i didn’t pay too much attention to it as i was still busy
trying to sever through the cursed tendril with the lighter’s flame. The hornet sound was growing angrier and fiercer.
The dust settled in front of me. When it finally cleared a white pickup sat there. “Salvation!” i thought. A man standing in the back of the pickup reached down and grabbed my arm and hoisted me up and over into the back with him. The vine magically released it’s
hold.
i was about to thank my rescuer when the driver revved up the motor and sped off. i sadly and fearfully saw where we were headed. The part of the vine forest where i had first seen that awful hanging, twisting, man. i jumped to the side of the pickup and was about to leap out when the man grabbed hold of the hammer hold of my overalls and held on to it like a vice.
“This must be a dream!” i kept wailing inside my head, i still couldn’t get any words out loud, just like in a dream. But i know it really isn’t a dream. i’ve pinched myself once too often. Damn.
The trees and their dangling vines are drawing closer. i can see the hanging dead man’s face. It’s all black and blue and puffy. i guess this must almost be near the end of my, ha, ha, nightmare.
The pickup stopped right under the vines, not far from the hanging dead man. The man with me in the pickup released his hold and quickly hopped out, joining the driver in the cab of the truck. i was about to follow him but my feet wouldn’t budge. i
looked down. The entire floor of the pickup bed was covered with sticky chewing gum like gunk and my shoes were glued to the spot.
i heard a sinister rattling noise up above me. i glanced up. A vine was lowering itself towards me like a pulley. It tapped me gently on the head, then slowly began to encircle my thro-—-
And that’s the tragic end of the author’s tale.

An actual nightmare (thank goodness) i had on
16 November, 1973.

pinkyjain pan

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Tags:

garden, vine and nightmare