The Gardener's Shed

'Back away real slow,' I told Teddy.

Teddy was my little brother. His name was Theodore, but everybody called him Teddy. He was thirteen then. I was a year older.

Well, old Teddy and me began backing toward the shed door.

'Don't run,' I told him.

Guinea pigs can smell fear. That's the absolute truth. Whatever you do, don't ever run from a guinea pig.

I remember thinking how far away the door seemed as we were backing toward it. It felt like a football field away. The door was half open, and the afternoon light slanting inward made it only barely possible to see inside the shed.

I had heard about wild guinea pigs before, but I had never actually seen any. Well, I have now, let me tell you. They were everywhere. We backed up slowly, never taking our eyes off the furry little devils. They must have numbered close to a hundred. They were on the floor at our feet. They were up on the shelves above our heads; their noses all twitching, smelling our scent. I remember their eyes. They had little red eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. The stench in the air filled our nostrils. Make no mistake, it smelled like death inside that dark old shed. Death and decay.

Well, with each step we took backwards, them guinea pigs took a whole bunch'a little guinea pig steps forward. Suddenly the shed door made a creaking sound and I hoped that there was someone coming inside to save us. But no! When we turned around we spotted more guinea pigs, these ones pressing their front paws against the door. They were closing the door! They were trying to trap us!

Now we were in almost total darkness. But for one grimy window, there'd be no light at all.

'Do something, Carl! Please, please do something! You're my big brother, only you can save us now!'

I looked around for a weapon. Anything. A rake, or a broom, something to protect us with, but there was nothing of use 'cept an old calendar on the wall that used to belong to the gardener.

I could hear them coming toward me in the blackness. I could feel them. My heart pounded in the center of my chest. They were all making little squeaky, wild guinea pig growls. As my eyes adjusted, I began to see them inching toward me like wolves with their hair up on their backs. They seemed to have forgotten about Teddy who was cowering over by a lawnmower. They had their sights set on me and me alone. They were in a half circle fanned out around me, inching nearer.

I owned two guinea pigs when I was about eight. They were nothing like these, though. They weren't wild and untamed. Then I noticed that these hairy creatures stalking toward me weren't just guinea pigs. There were rabbits also. Perhaps three hundred of 'em. Maybe more. White ones, just like the two white rabbits I used to own. They, like the guinea pigs, had little, red, beady eyeballs staring back at me from everywhere I looked. I don't know if you've ever heard a rabbit growl before, but let me tell you, it ain't a pretty sound.

Then I spotted something even more frightening than guinea pigs and rabbits. Hamsters! That's right. Wild ones! Thousands of 'em.

I had owned guinea pigs,and rabbits and hamsters at different times as a boy. My mother let me have two guinea pigs until I forgot to feed them, then she gave 'em away. Then I went to rabbits, until I forgot to feed them too. Then hamsters. Guess who my mother gave 'em to? Each and every time she found the dish bowl empty, guess who she gave 'em to? That's right, the gardener!

This was the gardener's shed! Could it be? Could these be the offspring of those nice little pets I had forgotten to feed? They were looking at me with such loathing. Such vile contempt. They wanted blood. My blood!

It was then I remembered about the snake I once owned. Instantly I could hear hissing from all four corners of the shed. Snakes, everywhere, slithering toward me with their tongues darting out and their beady, cold eyes fastened to mine.

'Get out, Teddy!' I screamed to my little brother. 'Don't worry about me,' I said. 'For the love of God, save yourself!'

Well old Teddy got out alright. Problem was, he ran. You never saw a kid run so fast. He must have just forgotten not to run. He crashed right through that old door like it was cotton candy. Soon as them critters smelled his fear they were after him. They all flew past me, zing, zing, zing one after the other. Even the snakes were in a big hurry to catch up with poor old Teddy!

He ran panic stricken into the forest; a forest much like this one we're in now, with all the guinea pigs and rabbits and hamsters and snakes in hot pursuit. It was all my fault for not feeding my pets properly. Never saw him again. Found one of his tennis shoes. That was it. Just one red sneaker with little guinea pig teeth marks all--

“Are you scaring my children, Dad?”

“Just telling 'em about my kid brother.”

“Don't listen to a word he says, boys.”

“It's not true, is it Mom?”

“Not a word is true. Now go to sleep. We're going hiking in the morning.”

“Yeah, well, you sure don't see poor Uncle Teddy around these days, do you?”

“Dad, stop it! You never had a brother, and there's no guinea pigs in this tent. Good night, kids.”



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