The Lady with the Imp

approximately 1700 words

The Lady with the Imp
by
Max Griffin

        Anna scowled when her husband, Denny, stopped to ogle a nubile young jogger.  She curled her upper lip and sneered, "There you go again.  You just can't help yourself." 

        Denny ignored her while twisting his head and staring at the woman's derriere. 

        Anna frowned and squinted at the retreating fanny pack; it looked like it had writhed, as though something small and alive squirmed inside.  But then a glance at Danny's leering grin made Anna's face heat, and she stomped her foot.  "Stop looking at that trollop and write me my child support check.  It's not like I haven't asked you for it a thousand times already."  She heaved a weary sigh and glanced back toward the jogger.  Sunlight fluttered through the forest canopy and speckled across the woman's back. Her footfalls crunched away from them, while the trees murmured in a sweltering gust of wind.

        Denny knelt on one knee to tie his shoe, but the jerk craned his neck toward the woman.

        Anna resisted the temptation to kick him.  "You just can't keep your eyes to yourself, can you?" 

        His face turned red and he snarled, "Don't hurt to look."  His gaze stayed locked on the runner until she vanished around a bend.  "What's it to you, anyway? It's not like we're still married," he muttered.

        She snorted.  "Thank god for that."  When he stood, she put her hands on her hips and scanned him from head to toe. "What did I ever see in a loser like you, anyway?  You've got no job, a beer gut, and you're going bald."

        "Yeah, well you don't look as good as you did in high school, either.  Bitch."

        "Snappy comeback, Denny. I guess the mind goes, too, when you turn forty, huh?"

        He muttered something she couldn't catch.  A vein pulsed in his forehead and he stalked away, kicking at the gravel with his battered sneakers.

        "Don't you walk away from me!  I came all this way to get my check and you're going to give it to me."  She rushed to catch up with him. 

        When the trail left the woods and entered the main part of the park, she blinked against the glare of the afternoon sun.  Despite the oppressive heat, the edges of the clearing dissolved into a sickly, yellow-green fog.

        The path curved around a kiddie wading pool.  At the sight youngsters playing, she grabbed Denny's arm and pulled him to a stop.  "Look at them."  She pointed at the tykes, shrieking and frolicking in the water like merry little demons. "Do you ever give a thought to Denny Junior?  He'd give anything if you took him swimming.  Would it be too much to pay attention to him?"

        He snatched his arm back.  "If you hadn't moved to another state, I might be able to see him."  He pointed to a nearby bench.  "Come on.  I'll write your blasted check for you."  He stomped away and plopped onto the seat.

        She followed and sat at the opposite end, as far away from him as she could.  "Okay, let's have it, buddy."

        "Just give me a friggin' second," he growled.  He grabbed his checkbook from his shirt pocket, but it caught on the fabric.  "God damn it."  His face turned purple and he jerked it free. The sound of ripping fabric was like music to her ears as he tore a ragged hole in his pocket.  "Now look what you made me do!" he whined.  "This was my favorite shirt."

        "What I made you do?  If you weren't such a fat slob, that wouldn't have happened."  She eyed the checkbook.  "So, are you going to use that to hold down your lap, or are you going to write me a check?"

        His lips turned downward, but he reached for his pen. Before he could start writing, though, the nubile jogger returned, trotting almost all the way to their bench. She stopped, put her hands on her knees, and panted.  Anna caught a momentary whiff of rotten eggs, wrinkled her nose and glared at the intruder.  Sweat soaked the runner's skimpy togs, which clung to the curves of her voluptuous body.  Her fanny pack twitched again, and the jogger tittered. She gave her hips a salacious little waggle before she straightened up, tossed her blonde ponytail to one side and adjusted her scarlet halter top.

        Denny put his pen down, sighed, and launched his lost-puppy-dog expression at the newcomer.  Anna winced when his ploy worked and the airhead smiled back at him.  Time to bring him back to reality.  "Come on, bud. I ain't got all day."  She snapped her fingers.

        Denny's look shot silent daggers in her direction and he whispered, "Be quiet.  Maybe this lady's looking for a place to rest."  He smiled at the runner and gestured to the empty space on the bench next to him.

        The jogger heaved a deep breath uttered a husky, "Thanks," before she settled between them. 

        She pulled out a bottle of Evian and took a long swig, while adjusting her fanny pack.  She sucked down more bottled water, and then turned a doe-like gaze on Denny.  She flapped her eyelashes and jiggled her body closer to him.

        Anna rolled her eyes at the woman's come-hither posture.  Denny, true to form, licked his lips while his gaze ranged over her like a hawk inspecting a mouse.  But then he caught sight of Anna glaring at him, and his look changed to that of a man who'd bitten into a lemon when he was hoping for an apple. 

        Without warning, he lurched backwards and blurted, "What the hell!" 

        Anna followed his gaze to the woman's backpack, where a tiny blue face peeked out from under the cover of one of the pockets.  A creature gripped at the fabric with yellow gnarls of claw and gristle and winked at her. 

        Denny turned ashen, jumped to his feet and pointed a trembling finger.  "That...that rat bit me." 

        Anna couldn't help herself.  She turned to the woman and drawled, in her most sarcastic tone, "Don't worry; he's had his shots. I don't think your pet can catch anything from him."

        The pet rat, or imp, or whatever it was, pushed its head out of the pocket, grinned and rolled its ruby-red eyes in Anna's direction.  Horns that glistened and dripped a crimson ichor sprouted from its brow. She wondered if maybe it really had gored Denny.  If so, it'd serve the SOB right for flirting with this little tramp.

        The jogger emitted a faint, "Eep," and crammed the...thing back into her pack.  She leaped to her feet and scampered away, past the kiddie pool, and disappeared into the fog-shrouded woods.

        Denny watched her depart with eyes that were blood-shot cue balls, and then he lumbered in the same direction. 

        Anna shot after him while shouting, "Wait, you son of bitch!  You haven't written my check yet!"

        The forest closed over her when the trail curved into the woods. She wiped sweat from her brow as a hot wind rustled through the leaves.  The yellow fog whirled closer now, obliterating everything except the nearest greenery.  She rounded a bend and almost bumped into Denny, who huffed and puffed like the Big Bad Wolf while leaning against a tree. 

        She wanted to slap him.  "What were you doing, running off like that without giving me my check?"

        He turned a blank face to her.  "What?  I just ran after her without thinking."  His voice husked, and perspiration streamed down his pale features.  "

        She spoke slowly, enunciating one word at a time.  "Where's. My. Check? "

        He inspected his tremulous left arm.  "Did you see that thing?  It bit me.  You don't think I'll get rabies or anything, do you?" 

        "I doubt it. But just in case, why don't you write my check while you still can?"

        "Yeah, yeah."  He waved her back and turned to peer around the tree. 

        Anna stared over his shoulder.  The jogger stood less than twenty-five feet away, next to a picnic table.  The miniature blue creature sat with its legs dangling off the edge.  Its voice screeched out syllables in a language that caterwauling cats might have understood, but was foreign to Anna.  The mists roiled about its mouth from the force of its exhalations.  The fog seemed almost liquid, as though the vile creature had spewed greenish-yellow chicken soup into the air. 

        Denny's sweaty paw pushed Anna back, and she shuddered at the touch.  "Don't do that."  The haze wafted closer. The stench of sulfur burned her nostrils. "What are they doing?  Is that thing talking to her?"

        Before Denny could answer, a beefy, one-eyed man wearing a white fedora and a baggy black suit appeared from the swirling murk.  The woman jumped back and shielded her face with her arm.  A squeal of laughter skittered from the imp.  The man grabbed the woman's wrist and she screamed.  He spoke in the same guttural accents as the imp, except his voice imitated sandpaper on rusty sheet metal instead of fingernails on a chalkboard.

        Denny's fingers, now ice-cold, dug into Anna's arm.  He pushed her back, one step, then two.  His whole body shook. 

        He turned toward her.  When she saw his expression, she forgot all about her check.  His face had drained of color, and his eyes seemed to be nothing but whites as they reeled in their sockets.  He whispered, "We've got to get out of here before it starts all over again."

        She jerked free of his grip. "What the hell are you talking about?  Before what starts all over again?" 

        But then he was gone, vanished in the sulfurous miasma that churned about her.  The world dissolved into that impenetrable fog.  Reality and memory evaporated in an instant of vertigo, and then she was back on the running trail, walking next to her slacker ex-husband. 

        Sunlight speckled through the forest canopy, and the trees murmured in a sweltering gust of wind.

        She heaved a deep breath and remembered Denny hadn't written her check.

        A nubile young jogger flounced by.  Her fanny pack writhed, as though something small and alive squirmed inside.  Denny stopped, twisted his head and ogled the woman's derriere. 

        Anna scowled, curled her upper lip and sneered, "There you go again.  You just can't help yourself."

        A howl of fiendish laughter echoed in the distance and then faded.