Yet another story inspired by a contest heading, although I have forgotten what it was. I ran across this on my pocket hard drive while looking for "Jimmy". It's not as violent as Jimmy and I really like the heroine. I have a thing for strong, intelligent women (you should meet my wife!). The fact that she's an Aussie (the character, not my wife) is a bonus. Drop me a line and let me know what you think.
Obedience
“Now, now, that’s a good kitty,” Dr. Hilde reassured the gray tom as she removed him from his pen. Once settled in the crook of her arm, he purred contentedly. She walked through the swinging door to the front desk where ten year old Jenny Simpson waited excitedly with her father, her pony tail bouncing.
“Barnaby!” the Jenny squealed at the sight of the cat. Barnaby jumped from the vet, on to the counter and into the outstretched arms of his young mistress. It looked as if the girl meant to suffocate the animal with her embrace, but Barnaby’s steady purring left no doubt that he was a happy cat.
Jenny’s father, Don, turned to address the doctor, satisfied that all was right with the world again.
“Dr. Hilde, I can’t thank you enough,” Don Simpson said. “Jenny has been sick with worry since we brought him in. How much do we owe you?”
“No worries, Don,” the vet replied. “I’ll drop you an invoice. I’m leaving on holiday tomorrow and everything’s put up. It wasn’t much, anyway, just a shot of medicine and an overnight stay. Make sure you keep him out of the crayons from now on.”
“Will do, doc. Have a good trip down under and we’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”
As she watched father and daughter walk across the gravel drive to their car, Dr. Hilde sat at her desk and listened. Nothing. That’s all she could hear. No yelping or whining or mewling to break the silence. It had taken her three months of preparation to find homes for all of the strays and to make sure that all of her patients were up and out by today. The Simpson’s Barnaby had come in last night with a stomach full of wax crayons and she had thought for sure he was going to topple her plans into the dust bin. It had been too late to send them on the twenty five mile drive to Dr. Thompson in Cloverdale, so Dr. Hilde had taken the cat in for the night. Fortunately, a mild sedative and some rest and the wax came to pass on its own. Thanks to Heaven for small kindnesses. Now she could concentrate on finishing up the final details of her long awaited trip. She had not been back home in what, nearly fifteen years? It would be good to see her family in person. Her mum and dad weren’t getting any younger and she might not be able to make the trip again for quite some time.
Dr. Hilde had started out as Hildegard Schotenhour in Pantagaloona, a small mining town on the eastern edge of the Australian outback. Her family operated a small ranch outside of town that had fostered Hilde’s love of animals. The tale of her trip from Pantagaloona, Australia to Ferrier’s Crossing, Iowa was not nearly as interesting as one might think. The details were rather boring in Dr. Hilde’s judgment. When she at last settled in Ferrier’s Crossing, Dr. Hildegard Schotenhour became Dr. Hilde. That was more than ten years ago. Hilde loved the small town and its inhabitants, both two legged and four. She had remained unmarried as a husband was a complication she felt sure she could quite do without. At forty-two years of age, it seemed doubtful that she would be walking down the aisle in white lace now. There were two brothers and a sister at home, all of whom had blessed her mother with grandchildren, so Hilde was off the hook. Another small kindness for which to be thankful. With a heavy sigh, Hilde pulled her five foot, four inch body, “well padded” in her own words, out of the office chair to lock the front door. She realized that this was maybe the third time she had ever locked any door in all the time she had lived in Iowa. She glanced around self consciously, as if expecting to see a group of the townspeople standing in the parking lot laughing at her. None appearing, she passed back through the swinging door and into the small house that was attached to her office. The airport shuttle would be here bright and early to pick her up, so she wanted to be sure all of her luggage and other necessities were packed and ready to go tonight. Two hours later, with her jeep locked in the barn and her bags at the ready by the front door, she convinced herself that any item not packed by now was not needed. Hilde had a small dinner and a shower and turned in for the night. It would be a grueling twenty-six hour trip before she was back home, with little or no opportunity to sleep. As excited as she was, Hide fell into a dreamless sleep within a few minutes of her head hitting the pillow.
Running. Always running. It seemed that he had spent a good part of his life running from one thing or another. He was tired and needed rest. Someplace safe. Someplace to hide the car, too. The gray Honda van that he had taken in Des Moines from the Kroger parking lot. He had watched the mother and three children climb out and head for the grocery store, knowing that she would be tied up for more than an hour. That had given him plenty of time to break into the van, pop the ignition and make his way to the interstate. It had been six hours since his escape outside Chicago. He felt sure that it was safe to stop for some food and hopefully some sleep. Highway 80 headed south toward Omaha, but there was a lot of nothing in between here and there. Choosing the next off ramp, he turned west, and according to the sign, headed toward Ferrier’s Crossing to look for someplace quiet. At three o’clock in the morning, everything in Iowa was quiet, he thought. He passed several small homes, but they all looked like they were occupied. He continued down the dark road, starting to doubt his choice of direction. As he came down a small hill, he noticed a white building on the right side of the road. He slowed the van and pulled off to the side of the road, the headlights illuminating a sign that read “Ferrier’s Crossing Animal Hospital”. There were no vehicles in sight, so he pulled the van into the gravel parking lot. He could see a fence in the back of the building and it looked like kennels for dogs. Rolling down the window, he listened for any sound of barking. If there were dogs back there, a strange car or person would make them bark.
He pulled the van around to the back of the building to keep it out of sight of the road. There was no sound, either from the kennel area or the house. All of the lights were out as well. Maybe it was closed, out of business. Too bad, that meant there was no food inside. Hopefully there was someplace for him to rest. He eased out of the van, still listening for any sound that would warn of danger. Other than the crunch of gravel beneath his feet, the night was silent. He came to a door and found it locked. He pulled a small revolver from the waistband of his pants. Holding the barrel and swinging the gun like a hammer, he knocked out the small window pane in the door with the butt. He paused, waiting to see if the sound of breaking glass had alerted anyone inside. Silence. He reached carefully through the broken glass, unlocked the door and opened it. Avoiding the broken shards of glass, he stepped into what looked like a doctor’s office waiting room. He saw magazines on the waiting room table, all stacked neatly. It looked like the business was still open, maybe just closed for the night. He pushed through a swinging door and found a small set of steps leading up to another door. He climbed up and opened the door with a small squeak. He found himself standing in a small country kitchen. He opened the refrigerator, his mouth watering in anticipation. His hopes of a filling meal soon vanished as he took stock of the contents. A jar of olives, two sticks of butter and an assortment of condiments rounded out the inventory. He opened the olives and tossed a handful into his mouth. Not his favorite, but after almost eight hours without food, he was too hungry to be picky. Next to the fridge was a tall cabinet that looked to be the pantry. He found crackers, peanut butter and some dried cereal. There were also several bottles of water on the bottom shelf. He drained two of them to wash down the peanut butter and crackers that passed for dinner.
He was halfway through the dining room before it dawned on him that an animal hospital would not have a kitchen unless someone lived there…….
“Why are you in my house?” Dr. Hilde demanded of the intruder. Had the gun been in his hand, those might have been her last words. As it was, her appearance in the hallway startled him and he swung his right fist into her left temple. The blow drove her into the wall and she fell to the floor in a heap.
There was a banging noise. Wasn’t she on the airplane by now, flying to Sydney? Banging could not be a good thing on an airplane. And it was giving her a monster of a headache. Maybe the flight attendant could bring her some Tylenol. She reached up to push the call button and realized that her hands were tied behind her back. She opened her eyes and found herself looking at the sunshine streaming in her bedroom window. The light hurt her eyes and intensified the pounding in her skull. She closed her eyes and rolled herself away from the window. She discovered that her feet were tied also. There was a taste of blood in her mouth and she could feel her left knee throbbing. She managed to get on to her right side and opened her eyes again. That was better, no blinding light. Then she heard the noise that had rousted her into consciousness. Someone was knocking on the front door. Her mind skipped over the question of why she was tied up and jumped directly to “who’s knocking on the door?” The last thing she remembered clearly was setting her alarm clock to wake her before the airport shuttle arrived. Her mind finally made the connection and she figured out that it must be the shuttle driver knocking on the door. She tried to yell for him to wait, but the tape over her mouth stifled any such attempt. Hilde heard two more raps on the door and then the sound of an engine revving up. She listened to the sound of the shuttle van driving across the gravel lot and heading back out toward the highway.
With all thought of her trip gone from her mind, Hilde concentrated on why she was tied like a roasting pig in her own house. Whoever had done this was thorough enough. There was no slack in the bindings on either her wrists or her ankles. She extended her legs out straight and saw that they had been bound with white medical tape. She imagined the same had been used on her wrists and mouth. Hilde struggled briefly to be sure that she could not free herself and then laid and waited for whatever the fates had in store for her.
As she lie on her bed, foggy half memories crept into her mind. Something had happened last night, but she wasn’t sure what. There was a shadowy image of someone strange in her house, but that was all she could remember. Before she could bring the image into focus, she heard footsteps in the hallway outside her bedroom.
Hilde closed her eyes to slits and waited for the door to open. A man walked into her room and stared at her for a moment. The fuzzy memory became clear in an instant. He had been in her house last night and he had hit her. That would explain her pounding head. He must have bound her and put her on the bed.
She looked as well as she could through her closed eyelids. He looked to be about forty, average build and height. His clothes were disheveled like he had been sleeping in them. As he turned away from her, Hilde could see the handle of the pistol protruding from his waistband and she felt a chill run through her body. She reasoned with herself that if he had meant to kill her, she would most certainly be dead now. All she could do was wait and see what his next move would be.
“I know you’re awake,” he said. His voice was a little rough, but not altogether unpleasant. “I can see your eyes moving. Might as well open ‘em up now sweetheart.”
Hilde opened her eyes and stared at her captor. There was something, a look, in his eyes that bothered her. Her heart was racing but she tried to remain calm.
“Now then, darlin’, let’s discuss my rules for you.” Hilde bristled at his use of such an intimate term. “All you have to do is exactly what I tell you and we’ll get along just fine. Just give me a little nod if you understand. I’m assuming you speak English.”
Hilde nodded in agreement and he continued.
“First rule: You stay put. No running out the door trying to get help. I’ve been through this God forsaken little town of yours and there ain’t no help to be had. Second rule: You will stay away from the windows and the telephone. Don’t matter much anyway ‘cause I cut the wires. Third: I need to get me some food and some rest and probably a new car. You will help me get these things. Do you understand me?”
Hilde nodded again and stared at the man. She wondered what it was that he had done. He seemed very at ease with the whole situation, like he had done this before.
“O.K., first things first.” He moved toward her and Hilde flinched as he reached for her mouth. In a single motion, he pulled the tape off her face. It stung a little, but Hilde refused to show him any weakness.
“You must be Dr. Hilde,” he stated. The way he said her name, it rhymed with ‘wild’.
“It’s pronounce hill-dee,“ she corrected. “But yes, this is my clinic. May I ask your name?”
“Well, now, sweetie pie, I’m not so sure that would be a good idea. I think the less you know about me, the better.”
“Fine. What should I call you? ‘Hey you’ is liable to get old after a bit.”
“Just call me Sam. You know, you don’t exactly sound like a local gal. You one of them Brits, or what?”
“Actually, I’m from Australia, Sam. Would you mind undoing me, I’ve got to go to the lu.” Hilde wanted to get her hands and legs free at any cost, but she did feel the call of nature.
“I’m guessing you mean the toilet. Just remember what I said.”
“No worries, just a bit of nature’s call,” Hilde replied.
‘Sam’ produced a knife from his front pocket and flipped it open. He sliced her bindings with flick of the blade and Hilde pulled the tape from her wrists and ankles. Her balance was a bit unsteady, but she managed to get to the bathroom without incident. She considered the window for a moment, but it was very small and close to the ceiling. Hilde doubted that she would be able to squeeze her rather ample bottom through it if she did find a way to climb up the wall. To add to her dilemma, she was still in her nightgown and did not fancy running down the street in said outfit. She finished her business and walked back into the bedroom. Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed across from her. He had no smile and Hilde thought it might have been quite some time since he had done so, if ever.
“I need to get dressed proper, if you don’t mind,” Hilde said. “I can’t rightly go about anything in my nightie.”
“Go right ahead,” Sam replied. “Let me know if I can help with anything.”
His tone sent a chill up Hilde’s spine. So far, he had shown no interest in harming her past the blow from last night, but she had no desire to push her luck by disrobing in his presence.
“You can wait in the hall or do without my help,” Hilde chided.
She barely saw the blow coming. Sam rose off the bed and slapped Hilde with the back of his hand before she could react. While not as forceful as the first, it bloodied her lip and brought tears to her eyes.
“OK, I guess we’re done playing nice,” Sam replied. “So listen to me, bitch. If you so much as look at me funny, I’ll knock your ass into next week. If I was gonna rape you, I would of done it already. Get your damn clothes on and stop giving me shit about it. Besides, you ain’t got nothing I ain’t seen before.”
Hilde moved to the dresser in stunned silence. Keeping her back to Sam she slipped a pair of jeans on under her nightgown and zipped them up. As quickly as possible, she pulled the nightgown over her head and put on her bra and a sweatshirt. Thankfully her shoes were next to the dresser as Sam was standing between her and the closet. Without comment she walked back into the bathroom and ran a brush through her tussled locks and pulled her hair into a quick pony tail. After splashing some water on her face, she walked back into the bedroom to face her assailant.
“Guess you know how to mind, after all,” Sam said with the hint of a smile.
“Just tell me what you want,” Hilde answered, her voice steely and cold.
“For starters, I ain’t had a decent meal in a couple of days. How’s about you be a good little woman and whip me up some grub?”
“I’ll see what I can manage, but I don’t have much here.” Hilde replied. “I was supposed to be leaving today on holiday.”
“Yeah, I thought so,” Sam said. “I saw your bags by the door and some airport van came by earlier. Guess your plans have changed. Use your imagination.”
Hilde walked out into the hall and headed for the kitchen with Sam following close behind her. She checked the pantry and the freezer for anything that might pass for a meal. She had not planned on eating here and had finished off the last of the food for dinner last night.
“I told you, there’s nothing in here,” Hilde said flatly. “I might have something in the fridge in the clinic.”
Sam grabbed Hilde by the arm and pulled her close to him. He smelled like he had not bathed in several days and his breath made Hilde recoil.
“I hope you’re not planning anything cute,” he warned. “I don’t want to have to teach you to behave again.”
“Look for yourself if you don’t believe me,” Hilde replied. “If you want me to fix you something to eat, let go of my arm.”
Sam released her and Hilde went down the steps into the clinic. She hadn’t bothered to go through the food out here, but occasionally she put a frozen dinner or two for nights when she had to keep a close eye on a patient. The fridge was old and had the freezer inside the main compartment. Hilde opened the door and began looking inside. The refrigeration section contained nothing but medicine in small bottles and syringes. She rose up and opened the freezer door. As she reached into the freezer to retrieve an ice encrusted cardboard box, her other hand slipped down into the tray in the door, out of Sam’s line of sight. Her fingers curled around something cold and smooth. With a practiced motion, she popped the protective cap off the syringe and slid it under the frozen dinner. Sam was sitting on the edge of the exam table, arms folded across his chest. He gave no indication that he had seen Hilde do anything unusual.
“Here we go,” Hilde commented. “Might be a little old, but it’s the best I can do.”
“I figured you had some grub squirreled away out here somewhere,” Sam commented. “Looks like you finally got you’re attitude straightened out.”
Hilde tossed the box to Sam and as he put his hands up to catch it, she stuck the syringe into his leg and depressed the plunger, all in a single motion. Sam howled in pain and turned to backhand Hilde again, but she had anticipated his action and ducked out of the way. The missed blow sent Sam sprawling to the floor.
“You bitch! I’m gonna kill your fat ass! God dammit, that hurts like a son of a bitch!” Sam started to pull himself up off the floor and realized that his arms and legs would not respond to his demands.
“What the hell did you do to me, you fucking whore?! Sam’s speech was beginning to slur.
“Just a little sedative to calm you down,” Hilde replied. “Most women think that men are like dogs, and I’m no exception. Some dogs are loyal and even some can be trained to be useful. But you Sam, you’re the kind of dog that wants to bite anyone who gets close enough. Some dogs can’t be helped, no matter how nice you are to them. The only thing you can do is put them out of their misery.”
Hilde walked over to the fridge and took out another syringe. Sam was trying to crawl towards her, but his body would no longer move under its own power. Hilde uncapped the syringe and stuck it into Sam’s leg, injecting more sedative into his blood.
“So, now, Sam, this is what is going to happen. You are going to learn some new tricks. First, you are going to beg me to spare your life. Come on, boy, let’s hear it.”
A small moan escaped Sam’s throat that might have passed for the word ‘please’. He was beginning to drool and it was puddling on the floor beneath his open mouth.
“Now then, let’s see if you can pull off rolling over. Really try, Sam. I think you can do it.”
Sam flopped his arm across his body and managed to roll onto his back. Hilde noticed that the look that she had seen in his eyes earlier was gone, replaced by abject fear. The fear of an animal that knows it is going to die.
“And now, Sam, for your last trick, I want you to play dead.” The vet, who had put down beloved family pets to ease their suffering, injected a final dose into a very bad man to ease her own. She stood and watched as his breathing slowed and finally stopped altogether. Now she had a few details to which she had to attend, not the least of which was calling the airline to reschedule her flight.
In the field next to Dr. Hilde’s clinic there was a small pet cemetery. She found it gave comfort to her patient’s owners when they passed. The newest grave had a marker on it that read: “Here lies Sam, a dog who finally did as he was told”.