would hop right out of my chest. I had to do something. I had to do something but I didnt know how much time I had.
I started for the door but paused. I picked up the phone and dialed.
9-1-1. Whats your emergency? the voice said on the other end.
Im at 27 Windy Hill Court. There is a little girl across the street. I think she has been kidnapped, maybe assaulted.
Do you mean the little girl from across the street is missing?
No, I mean the guy across the street has kidnapped a girl and has her in his house. Im going over there.
Wait, sir&
He left the house but he might be back any minute. She has to be got out now. I hung up the phone
Across the street I picked my way around the fallen tree, knocked on the door, and waited. I knocked again, and a third time. A few houses down I heard the Johnsons dog barking in their back yard but heard no movement from inside the house, so I made my way around the side to the gate which led to the back yard. The rising, just peeking over the horizon gave enough illumination to see a set of matching chairs and table in the dining area inside the glass door. But there were no lights on in the house. I tried the door but it was locked.
After a moments thought I remembered the tool shed and walked across the high grass to the plywood door. The wooden door, swollen in its frame by the moist night air was hard to open but came loose after a couple of pulls. I noticed that the rope was gone but what caught my eye was ax. Brand new, it could not have ever been used before that time. The red paint on the blade had not a scratch and the lacquered wood handle shone.
Once back on the patio I hefted the ax in both hands and let fly with all my strength. Glass shattered and shards tinkled as they fell. The sunrise sparkled on the glass covered floor inside what had recently been my neighbors back door.
Strangely I still heard no sound from within the house, though I listened intently as I crept over the broken glass, ax at the ready across the front of me. The furnishings were typical, if old, a mixture of veneered particle board and wood, bookshelves full of paperbacks, a buffet table with molded plastic, made to look like carvings on the front. Through the door on the left of this dining area lay a hallway, to the right I could see into the kitchen and ahead, through a large archway I could see into the living room. The television was on but the volume muted.
I expected to find the girl there but did not. Instead I found an empty green sofa, but one that had evidently been occupied not long ago by the indentation. I heard a muffled noise from the direction I had come. I turned and stepped forward carefully. I t had come from the hallway.
Hey! What the hell are you doing in my house? I turned to see the neighbor standing in the entry way holding a stuffed toy in one hand, a brown and white dog with large eyes and a lolling red tongue. The front door stood open behind him.
I said what the hell are you doing here?
You wont hurt her. I said with all the determination I could force into my voice as my heart pounded in my ears.
Hurt&what?
I live across the street. I know what youre doing. The cops are on the way.
I know who you are. The neighbors warned me about you.
Warned you? What do you mean, warned you?
Look out for the creepy guy over there thats always watching everybody, thats what they said. Thats you. Ive seen you looking over here constantly. His eyes moved to the ax. Now, what have you done? Allie? You there?
The neighbors&they were my friends. Warned you? I felt constricted as if the walls were closing in.
Yeah. Warned me. His face screwed up in puzzlement. What? You retarded or something? He took a softer tone. Not all there in the head? Why dont you give me the ax? He reached out his hand but I shrugged away and raised the ax threateningly.
Dont touch me! I needed a moment to think. I could not let him confuse me. I only had to hold on until the police arrived. I wont let you hurt the girl!
A new voice cried out from the hallway I had passed on the way in, a childs voice. Daddy!
Allie? The man answered. Are you all right?
Daddy, theres a man in the house!
I know, Honey, you stay in your room till I come get you. He turned back to me. My daughter, he said, I picked her up from her mothers this morning. Were divorced. She was mad because I left something there. He held up the dog and waggled it side to side.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. All I could do however was gasp out, No. I&I saw&
Even in the growing daylight I could see the red and blue strobes reflecting off the open door. The police were there. Someone was going to jail. I was pretty sure who it would be.
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About the author:
David Hoogterp is an author living near Austin, Texas who has published numerous online articles and short works of fiction, though this is his first important work after a long hiatus. Since first putting pen to paper more than twenty-five years ago he has wasted untold hours on his unusual pass-time and looks forward to wasting many more. When not at the keyboard or scribbling on a pad he enjoys the outdoors, cooking, vegetable gardening, books, movies, and many other pursuits of ordinary life.
The Fallen Tree Page 2
