My car won't start on the first try... nor the second.
After the fourth attempt, I'm starting to go into complete hysterics, slapping the steering wheel, bouncing in my seat, the works.
The engine chokes into life on my fifth try, its familiar purring calming my racing heart, quieting down my shrieks and cries. Breathing almost normally, I step on the clutch. My foot is shaking so badly, I almost miss the pedal. The gears scratch when I struggle to steady my hand while pulling the lever into the reverse position.
"Come on, Belle, calm the hell down..."
I do everything I can do in my freaked-out state to reverse smoothly, but the car won't budge. I try again... and again. I check the handbrake, I check the gears, and I step hard on the petrol pedal.
No backward movement except for a slight straining of the vehicle's body and shrill whining from the engine. My horror is slowly subsiding, but I'm shaking with almost painful, involuntary convulsions.
I'm so cold!
I reluctantly get out of the car.
Mud? The car has two of its wheels stuck in mud! On the paving? Mud? How?! Was it there when I parked? Perhaps, probably disguised as innocent dirt. This much, though? Enough to bog down my car?!
"Shiii-ii-ii-ii-it!" I scream. "CRAAAAAAAAIG!!!!" A stream of other, less pretty words follows, falling over one another in their rush to escape my raw throat.
☼
I'm back at the front door of the house. I didn't go down to the utility room to turn off its light and close the door. There are MAGGOTS down there. The place can flood, and they can all die. The maggots, the bugs, the rats...
The rats.
I oddly don't hate rats, I just wouldn't want them to crawl over me or nibble on me. I don't want the rats to drown. I'll go close the door later... when I don't feel like ripping off my skin. Besides, the rats, if there are any, will probably flee if too much water starts running into the little room. Right?
Dammit! It's going to bug me for the rest of the night.
"I don't wanna go there again!!!"
It is still mostly dusky inside the house, even with the foyer light on. Dusky and not very welcoming, but there aren't any maggots that I can see, in spite of the smell. Besides, I'm smelling worse than the house. There's a vast difference between the fragrance of decay and the aroma of musty un-aired rooms.
I know that now... first-hand... Intimately!
Holding my breath, I step into the house.
The front door does not slam and lock itself behind me, not even when I've dragged what's left of my art supply box into the house and out of its way. I see that as a good sign and close the door myself.
Fortunately, I managed to gather my scattered brushes and paints and various drawing tools that were strewn all over the patio.
Lesson learned: Buy one of those durable plastic crates with wheels. The waterproof and Belle-proof kind.
The bottles of turpentine and other breakable items and flammable liquids are still in the car. The cardboard box is the only casualty of the patio accident. Small mercies and things to be thankful for that's what I'm trying to focus on now. Forget the maggots. Ignore the putrid odour of... well... me...
The foyer seems clean enough, but I cannot make out much of what appears to be a living area to the left.
I'm wet and dripping all over the floor, and I'm shivering so badly I can barely move. I shuffle over the scratched wooden floor and the warn scatter rugs towards what I hope will turn out to be a bathroom door.
I'm cold, and I really need to pee... and shower... or both together; I don't even care anymore.
The place is a little dusty and musty and certainly not spotless, but there are very few bugs, no rats (as far as I can see) and, a big plus, no rotting vegetables lying in a pool of goo and maggots.
Definitely my kind of place. I'm starting to feel a little bit better about the house.
A loose window frame shudders loudly in the wind, which is now trying its best to destroy the house just when I started to like it. Perhaps I should re-think my spreading calm. The front door rattles in its frame, and I half expect it to be blown open again.
I hasten my dripping steps, caring a little less about the amount of water and mud I'm dragging through the foyer with me.
To the right of the foyer are stairs running along the wall towards the first floor. In front of me, next to these stairs, is a closed door and on the left side of the door is an archway leading deeper into the house.
I cautiously turn the knob on the door. I do not want a repeat performance of the utility room. If it's stuck, I'm going to leave it stuck for all eternity. I'll bathe in the kitchen sink if I have to... If I can find the kitchen...
The door opens easily and...
It is a bathroom! Hallelujah!
It contains an actual toilet, a basin and a bathtub that was once used in Noah's ark, but it's here, it's real, and though stained and scratched, it's relatively clean.
I dive for the tub, afraid of getting my hopes up and kneeling at its head, I turn the handle of the tap marked with a promising red dot.
Blood!
There's blood coming from the faucet! I scramble to my feet and am about to run for the door when the pipes groan a mighty heave and a sputter. Water! Reddish water gushes from the spout, and after a few seconds, it is more or less clear!
"Just rust, you idiot..." this place really seems to have me spooked. My heart is beating so fast; I'm certain that it is going to escape from my chest. I'm not completely sure because of my soaked state, but I might have peed myself a little bit.
I reach out a hand to feel the water's temperature. It is progressing from cold to lukewarm to hot quite fast. Ron did promise the presence of an electrically ignited, working gas hot water system, and it seems to be true.
"THANK YOU, GOD!"
I give the bath a quick rinse, push in the plug and turn the taps on full blast while I quickly use the toilet. I'm overjoyed when I'm done and pull the chain to hear the wonderful sounds of a flushing toilet.
It works!
I probably should have tested it before I used it, but... I didn't care! Peeling off my clothes is not happening fast enough because my entire body is jerking and spasming from the cold. Finally, about to take off my last piece of clothing, I freeze... Not just because I'm cold... It suddenly hits me that I've left my luggage containing clothes, toiletries and towels in my car...
"Aaaaargh!"
There is no way I'm putting my body back in the heap of stinking garments lying in a puddle on the chipped tile floor. I look down at myself. I'm still wearing my panties due to a force of habit, where I pull them up after using the toilet. It's a lacy little thing, not covering much of anything...
The house is pretty secluded, surrounded by a forest of some kind. The chances of being spotted by neighbours or passers-by are less than zero, especially in this crazy weather.
"Good enough!" I stuff my feet back into my flat sandals, close the taps and head for the door.
I've never been much of an exhibitionist. Strolling around naked has never come naturally to me. Staggering around naked, shaking, and spasming doesn't feel natural, either. I wrap my arms around myself and jerk along on stiff legs.
The rain slams into me at full force when I reach the bottom step leading from the patio to the paving. I gasp in shock and choke on a mouthful of water. I can already see the news headlines. 'Naked woman drowns in rain, 4 metres away from her car.'
I've always been convinced that my breasts were on the small side, but if they were really that small, why do the piercing raindrops have no problem finding them, even with my arms mostly in the way?
It hurts enough to make me run in an awkward bent-over trot. I'm sure I resemble some bedraggled, awkward bird. A plucked and mangled ostrich.
My hand is resting on the car door handle on the driver's side, ready to open it and use the lever to pop the trunk, when my head jerks almost involuntarily towards the east corner of the house. Just around that corner, the utility room is standing open, possibly being flooded.
I'm too cold and miserable to care about rodents and water damage, but the electricity switches can get wet and trip the power, even if the room doesn't flood and the rats don't drown. I really care about having electricity.
All the way to the utility room, I punctuate each wobbly step with a hissed "dammit" and do everything short of plummeting down the stairs. There is very little evidence of the maggot war of earlier; even those who'd died in the skirmish were washed away in the rain.
There is a small puddle of cold water forming just inside the door of the utility room, directly caused by rain getting blown into it. For now, the threshold is high enough to keep out the little river running past it and down the incline at the room's edge toward the back of the building.
I hold my breath against the overwhelming stench of the room and don't look at anything in it. I don't even want to catch a glimpse of any maggots. I only pause long enough to shut the utility box, flip the light switch to the off position and close the door before I crawl up the crumbling steps and dammit my way back to my car.
Removing luggage from a car without getting the trunk flooded is quite a feat in hard rain. Doing so while unable to control one's body is virtually impossible. But I succeed... more or less. I take only the backpack and suitcase containing my toiletries, towels and clothing.
There's a man standing among the trees about 100 metres from the car. He is just standing there, oblivious to the pouring rain, watching me. Ron McLaughlin?
I nearly drop my bags, and for a second, I'm too numb with shock to feel the cold. I blink, and he's gone.
Just like that. Impossible!
He might have stepped behind the trees; there are many, many trees, but still... That fast, with no sign of him? In this rain? Scanning the trees back and forth is yielding nothing. No man or beast seems to be out in this weather, except me, alone and naked and dying of hypothermia.
"Imagination..."
It must have been. The rain and leaves just blended in the right way for a moment to make my artist's eyes form an image. There's no man. There never was.
Well... maybe not never... I'm not going to stand around in the rain, naked and loaded down with bags, to find out if there is one now.
I turn and run-stumble to the house.
Bloody sandals!
☼☼☼