C. LaSart - Ad Nauseam - 13 Tales of Extreme Horror

“It’s you or me, bud. Come and get it.”

The rusty-colored visitor watched from his tree branch as William took down the ladder and put it away.

When William emerged, he saw the empty branch still swaying, the loud- mouthed rodent back on the roof and approaching the pile of pellets suspiciously. Still feeling a bit guilty, he patted the dog on the head and opened the back door.

“Come on, Devon. We can still get a nap in on the couch before Kristi gets home.”

“William? Please tell me you didn’t have that filthy dog in this house.” Kristi stood in the doorway, her finger pointing at the living room sofa.

“Hmmm?” William reclined in his EZ Chair, the television remote resting on his outstretched thigh.

“There’s dog hair all over the couch. Did you have Devon on the couch? You know how I feel about animals in the house.”

“No, dear. Of course not.”

“Then how did all that nasty hair get on there?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it fell off my clothes.”

Kristi crossed her arms and glared at William.

“Did you get rid of that squirrel?”

“Yep. Poisoned him. He should probably be dead by tomorrow.” William hated it when Kristi prattled at him during one of his shows. He also hated that she never let Devon come in the house.

That dog’s better company than you most days, anyways, he thought, tuning her out. Their marriage had been passionate in the early years, and William figured this was just the way it went with relationships. A comfortable contempt just settles into the vacancy left when love fades.

“Are you even listening to me?” Kristi had her hands on her hips, a posture that never failed to irritate William.

“What?” He flicked the power button reluctantly, stopping Peter Griffin mid-sentence.

“I said, make sure you find the corpse so it’s not stinking up the yard. The last thing we need is for Devon to eat that diseased little creature and puke it up on the couch when he’s not in the house.”

“Okay. I’ll look for it tomorrow morning.”

“And take one of your pills,” she added, perching on the arm of the recliner to give him a light hug and kiss before going to bed.

“I’m not depressed.”

“Come on, boy! Get the frisbee.” William heaved the plastic disk over Devon’s head but the dog merely watched it fly. Yawning, he stretched out in the grass and stared at William expectantly, as if to say, Cool trick, now go get it.

“Lazy dog.” William laughed and retrieved the Frisbee. He climbed the steps onto the back porch to grab a beer, when something small bounced off his head and rolled across the wood.

“What the hell?” Leaning over to pick it up, he realized it was a pellet of rat poison. Two more pellets hit him and he looked up, just in time for a third to hit his nose. The squirrel was once again perched on the edge of the gutter, pelting him with the poison. The little beast then threw the rest over the edge and screeched at him in indignation.

“Well, I’ll be damned. You little bastard.” William gathered up the remaining pellets and tossed them in the trash can, mindful of Devon eating it. He was halfway amused, but also a bit angry. “That’s it. You’ve got this coming.”

It took a while to find it, but he discovered his son’s old pellet gun tucked away in a dusty box in the garage. William grabbed the ladder once again on his way out. This time the squirrel held his ground on the roof, squawking at the intrusion as William climbed the rungs and braced his elbows on the shingles. He hadn’t fired a gun of any kind in many years and the first pellet went high and wide.

The rodent fled at the sound of the gun, as the next pellet hit it square in the shoulder. It jumped high into the air, squealing and chittering. Expecting the creature to run away, William was surprised when it turned back to him and charged, its large teeth bared.

Hurrying to retreat, William’s foot slipped on the ladder and his chin hit the top rung painfully, causing him to bite his tongue in the process. He scrambled down the ladder and out into the middle of the yard, where Devon waited, yapping.

“That’s right, Devon. You tell him, boy.” William wiped his chin and his hand came away wet with blood. Glancing up at the roof, he couldn’t see the squirrel anymore.

Good. Maybe the little bastard will stay gone now.

“What happened to your face?” Kristi moved his hands away as he tried to prevent her from tracing the bandage on his chin.

“I slipped on the ladder and hit my chin. It’s not a big deal.”

“Why in God’s name were you on the ladder?”

“I was shooting that squirrel. The lil’ bugger wouldn’t eat the poison, so I shot him with Max’s pellet gun.” William tried grinning, but it made his chin sting.

“Maybe we should take you in to see the doctor.” Kristi gave him a look of concern.

“I told you I’m fine.” He hated that concerned look more than anything. Even when she was harping on him, something he was used to after decades of marriage, she always had that half-worried look on her face. She acted like he was crazy sometimes, or a child that needed to be reminded of the most basic tasks. William had buried his own mother five years ago, and didn’t need a substitute.

“Did you take your pill?”

“Goddamnit, Kristi! I am not depressed. There’s nothing wrong with me. I got hurt trying to get rid of a squirrel. That’s all. The same damned squirrel you’ve been riding my ass to kill.” William was surprised at the venom in his response. He hadn’t known he was angry until he started yelling.

Kristi stared at him, blinking back tears. Unable to deal with his wife at the moment, he turned and stalked out of the room, hearing the first of her sobs as he walked away.

The next morning, William awoke to Devon’s barking outside and the phone ringing on the nightstand. He turned to discover Kristi’s side of the bed was empty.

Must still be miffed from last night. Throwing his legs over the edge of the bed, he sat up and reached for the telephone on the nightstand.

“Hello?”

“Oh thank God, Dad! It took you so long to answer, I was just about to hang up and call the cops.”

“What are you talking about, Max?”

“I’ve called you three times this morning, Dad.”

“You have? I guess I was just sleeping soundly. What’s the big emergency? I mean, it’s not like I’m not happy to hear from you son, but what’s going on?” William hadn’t talked to his son in close to a month, but he knew that his oldest was busy with his job and family. He missed his kids and grandchildren though, and was disappointed to hear from Kristi that they weren’t going to be able to get together over the summer.

“We need to talk. You might want to sit down.”

William’s pulse picked up as a rush of adrenaline spurred his heart on, though he kept his voice level. “I am sitting. What is it?”

“I hate to be the one to do this, but if I don’t, I don’t think anyone else ever will. I never agreed with the way Mom chose to handle this, but I’m tired of her calling me at night crying. You need to be told.”

“Whoa. Slow down, Max.” William felt a throb develop in his right temple and was unable to follow where his son’s conversation was going. “What are you talking about and what is this about your Mom?”

“She’s worried sick about you, Dad.” Max paused. “We all are. You’ve been acting strange and you won’t take your medication like the doctor says —”

“Now hold on a damned second. I don’t know what your Mom has been telling you, but I’m fine. I don’t need any pills. I’m not depressed.” William felt himself getting angry. Kristi had no business calling and getting the kids all riled up over nothing.