{"id":1004,"date":"2020-08-24T01:55:36","date_gmt":"2020-08-24T01:55:36","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/storytellernetwork.ca\/?p=1004"},"modified":"2020-10-15T21:04:46","modified_gmt":"2020-10-15T21:04:46","slug":"the-rug","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/storytellernetwork.ca\/the-rug\/","title":{"rendered":"The Rug"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
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Edna Dowell swept the floor, resting on the end of her broom almost as often as she passed its bristles over the shiny wooden floorboards. She was an old woman on the downside of seventy and more than a little senile, but still sprightly enough to clean the house by herself<\/span>. <\/span>It took her longer than it used to, but by stringing together enough spurts of energy she could usually get it all done in a day.<\/span><\/p>

After a short break she swept the remaining corners of the living room, and then passed the broom around the legs of the couch and end table, bringing a small pile of dirt and dust toward the much larger pile in the middle of the floor. That done, she took another moment to catch her breath.<\/span><\/p>

The house was run-down, but clean. Old<\/span>, <\/span>mended and recovered furniture was scattered about the room, as mismatched a collection as you might expect when someone did much of their shopping on garbage day. Each piece had a character all its own, from the chesterfield she\u2019d picked up behind the bowling alley to the chairs in the hall that used to sit in the laundromat; from the pictures of other people\u2019s families hanging on the wall to the bookcases full of books she\u2019d never read<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>

And then there was the big oval rug she\u2019d found behind the funeral parlour two blocks over. The design on it was quite faded, but there wasn\u2019t a hole or worn spot to look at. A true wonder of afind<\/span>, <\/span>in more ways than one.<\/span><\/p>

Edna\u2019s breathing finally eased into a regular rhythm and she knelt on the floor. Then, lifting the edge of the rug, she swept the dirt underneath it. The dust swirled toward the rug as if sucked in by an unseen wind, then settled onto the floorboards in a scattered pile<\/span>. <\/span>With a satisfied nod Edna lowered the edge of the rug back onto the floor. There was a slight bulge in it now, but she paid it no mind. In a week or two, when she felt up to cleaning again, the bulge would be gone …<\/span> as would the dirt beneath it.<\/span><\/p>

The first time she\u2019d swept the dirt under the rug was on the day she\u2019d first brought it home two years ago<\/span>. <\/span>Just as she was finishing up her cleaning there\u2019d been a knock at the door<\/span>. <\/span>With nowhere else to sweep the dirt she quickly swept it under the rug and tossed the broom in the closet.<\/span><\/p>

Her guests that day had stayed for hours and it was a whole week before she remembered what she\u2019d done with the dirt<\/span>. <\/span>But, when she pulled back the rug to sweep it up and take it out to the trash she was surprised to find it gone. Not just spread around or absorbed by the rug\u2019s fibres, but gone without a trace. After that she swept dirt under different parts of the rug to see if it would happen again, and it did<\/span>. <\/span>In time she learned to sweep everything under the rug and it eventually became as much a part of her cleaning routine as Misters Murphy and Clean<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>

Unfortunately, not all of her little problems could be handled so easily. The current problem, or perhaps just the latest incarnation of a constant problem, had to do with money, or lack thereof.<\/span><\/p>

Three years ago her pension had been de\u00ad indexed and no longer kept pace with the cost of living. Then, last year, her rent had gone up three percent, the maximum amount allowed by the government\u2019s rent control board<\/span>. <\/span>She\u2019d made up the difference with what little savings she\u2019d squirrelled away over the years but that was all but gone now. She wasn\u2019t sure if she was one month behind in her rent or two, but what did it matter? She only had enough money for groceries and she\u2019d be damned if she\u2019d go hungry while giving that do-nothing slumlord another red cent.<\/span><\/p>

He\u2019ll be coming around soon enough asking for his money, she thought. He can ask all he wants, but I can\u2019t give him what I don\u2019t have. He can threaten to throw me out too, but I won\u2019t move. He might own this house, but this is my <\/span>home.<\/span><\/i><\/p>

She patted the bulge in the rug, and it shifted slightly under her touch.<\/span><\/p>

The knock on the door didn<\/span>\u2019<\/span>t <\/span>surprise <\/span>her, she\u2019d been <\/span>expecting <\/span>it <\/span>for <\/span>some time<\/span>. <\/span>She hadn\u2019t paid her rent in months and her landlord was anything but patient. As if on cue, the knocking grew louder and more frantic as the man on the other side pounded harder on the old wooden door.<\/span><\/p>

Edna slowly got up from her chair in the living room and began shuffling her way to the door. \u201cI\u2019m coming, I\u2019m coming,\u201d she said in a voice that was barely a whisper.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cI <\/span>know you\u2019re in there, Dowell,\u201d the man shouted<\/span>. <\/span>\u201cI <\/span>seen you pick up your mail.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

When she reached the door she paused for a moment\u2019s rest, then unlocked and pulled the door open.<\/span><\/p>

Marty Genetti was a squat man with a full head of black hair blow-dried straight back in the shape of a cycling helmet. He was probably in his fifties but still looked like the teenage hoodlum he\u2019d been over thirty years ago. \u201cI come for the rent,\u201d he said.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cAnd a good morning to you too, Mr. Genetti,\u201d said Edna.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cYeah, it\u2019s a great morning, but it would be even better if you had the rent money you owe me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cI <\/span>haven\u2019t got it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

Marty just shook his head. \u201cThat\u2019s crap<\/span>. <\/span>I know for a fact that the pension cheques went out today and you already took in your mail.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cWell, the cheque wasn\u2019t in the mail,\u201d she lied.<\/span> She couldn\u2019t possibly turn over her pension cheque. There\u2019d be nothing left for her to live on.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cNice try, Dowell. But never bullshit a bullshitter. You got your cheque today and you\u2019re going to give it to me or I\u2019ll boot you out. I got six families practically begging me to live here<\/span>.<\/span>\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cI don\u2019t have it,\u201d she said, her voice beginning to crack.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cFuck <\/span>this,\u201d Marty muttered, barging his way into the house. \u201cWhere did you put the mail? In the living room?\u201d He walked into the large room off the hallway looking for envelopes. There were a few Christmas cards on the window sills, but they\u2019d been there for years. \u201cWhat about the kitchen?\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cNo!\u201d Edna cried<\/span>. <\/span>She\u2019d put the mail in the pantry, but it wasn\u2019t very well hidden and he\u2019d find it there as soon as he looked.<\/span><\/p>

He went into the kitchen, Edna following as fast as her feet could take her.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cWhat\u2019s <\/span>with all the cookie tins? That where you keep your stash?\u201d He started taking the tins off the shelf and opening them one by one.<\/span><\/p>

Edna did keep some bills and a few coins in a couple of the tins, but that was emergency money for doctor\u2019s visits and medicine<\/span>. <\/span>If he took that she\u2019d literally be without a penny to her name.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cStop it!\u201d she shouted. \u201cStop!\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cOh, am I getting warm?\u201d He laughed, almost as if he was enjoying his little act of terrorism<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cPlease, stop!\u201d she pleaded again, but her words only spurred him on.<\/span><\/p>

He found a Christie\u2019s tin with some money in it. <\/span>\u201cAll <\/span>right,\u201d he said<\/span>. <\/span>\u201cThis is a start. Let\u2019s see what else we can find<\/span>.<\/span>\u201d<\/span><\/p>

Edna began trembling in frustration and anger. lf he kept on like this he was bound to find her pension cheque and then she\u2019d be left with nothing. She had to do something, but what?<\/span><\/p>

\u201cHeh-hey! Here\u2019s a twenty,\u201d he said, looking more and more like a neighbourhood bully shaking down kids for candies.<\/span><\/p>

Edna glanced at the kitchen counter. Her rolling pin was there, a chipped and cracked rolling pin made out of marble she\u2019d found years ago in a dumpster behind the Commisso Brothers Italian bakery. She stared at the rolling pin for what seemed like forever, then finally picked it up <\/span>.<\/span>..<\/span><\/p>

\u201cYou gotta have a piggy bank here somewhere.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

… raised it over her head …\u00a0<\/span><\/p>

\u201cOr maybe a roll of pennies<\/span>\u2014<\/span>\u201d<\/span><\/p>

… and let it fall.<\/span><\/p>

Marty Genetti stared up at Edna, his green eyes bulging out of their sockets in a look of surprise, and one side of his head crumpled up like a squashed paper bag. His fingers were closed tight around the money<\/span>\u2014<\/span> Edna\u2019s money<\/span>\u2014<\/span>but that didn\u2019t stop her from cracking his fingers open and prying the bills from his fists. After she\u2019d picked the loose change off the floor, she counted all the money and put it in neat little stacks on the kitchen table<\/span>. <\/span>It wasn\u2019t much, but it was more than she\u2019d thought she\u2019d had stashed away.<\/span><\/p>

She looked down at the corpse in her kitchen and was struck by a thought. With some effort, she got down onto the floor, turned him on his side and pulled the billfold from his back pocket. It was made of black leather, as soft as a baby\u2019s skin. She opened it and a smile broke over her face. The wallet was stuffed with bills, the smallest of which were twenties. She took out the money and placed it on the table, marvelling at how springy the stacks of paper were<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>

She replaced the wallet and patted his pockets for any loose change. She found a few more bills<\/span>\u2014<\/span>mostly fives<\/span>\u2014<\/span>and a bunch of loonies and quarters. She considered taking his rings, but figured they\u2019d probably be more trouble than they were worth, and picked herself up off the floor. Then she sat down at the table and counted the money. There was over a thousand dollars there, more than enough to pay the back rent <\/span>and <\/span><\/i>stock up on food<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>

As she sat there filled with joy over the windfall, she began to think about her situation. If the landlord was dead, who do I <\/span>pay the rent money to? Oh well, not to worry, somebody will be by asking for it sooner or later.<\/span><\/p>

She was about to get up to put the money in a safe place when her foot kicked against the dead body on the floor. \u201cOh dear,\u201d she said, realizing she had a bit of problem on her hands. Killing Genetti had been easy<\/span>\u2014<\/span>he was a nasty, dirty little man who\u2019d gotten what he deserved. However, getting rid of his body, now that would be tricky.<\/span><\/p>

Edna sat and thought about it.<\/span><\/p>

When it came to her, it was like a new day dawning in her life, as if Somebody Up There was telling her she\u2019d done a good thing<\/span>.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>

If Marty Genetti was dirt, the only place for him was under the rug with the rest of it.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>

Edna got up from the table and made herself a tea. When she\u2019d finished the cup of orange pekoe and was sufficiently rested, she began dragging the corpse into the living room<\/span>. <\/span>It wasn\u2019t an easy task, but by nightfall she\u2019d pushed, pulled, kicked and rolled the body into the middle of the living room. Then with little ceremony she raised the edge of the rug, gave the body one last roll, and lowered the rug over top of it. The rug barely covered it, and the hands and feet stuck out from the comers, but at least the face, with those bulging eyes and lolling tongue, was hidden from view<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>

Out of sight, out of mind, she thought. And went upstairs to bed.<\/span><\/p>

In the morning <\/span>Edna <\/span>came d<\/span>own<\/span>stairs <\/span>rested <\/span>and <\/span>chipper, <\/span>having had the best night<\/span>\u2019s <\/span>sleep <\/span>in ages<\/span>. <\/span>Outside the sun was shining, the air was fresh, and it was a beautiful, beautiful day.<\/span><\/p>

As she entered the living room, the first thing she noticed was the bulge in the rug. It was quite lumpy, but considerably smaller than it had been the night before. The second thing she noticed was the curled pair of hands lying just beyond the near edge of the rug, and the pair of black shoes soles-up on the floor at the other end. The hands ended at the wrists and the exposed flesh and bone was smooth, as if it had melted away like candle wax rather than been cut by a knife<\/span>. <\/span>The feet were similarly disembodied\u00ad socks, skin, muscle and bone melted away at a slight angle.<\/span><\/p>

Unsightly mess, that, thought Edna, picking up the edge of the rug and quickly kicking the hands underneath with a flick of her flu1fy pink slippers. Then she walked around to the other end of the rug and swept the shoes underneath it, too.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cThere,\u201d <\/span>she said aloud, noticing there was a bit of colour to the rug now. \u201cMuch better.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

She went into the kitchen, humming a tune.<\/span><\/p>

The lump in the rug took about a week to <\/span>go away<\/span>. <\/span>E<\/span>ach day <\/span>E<\/span>dna would <\/span>come <\/span>down the <\/span>stairs <\/span>to <\/span>see <\/span>it smaller by half. The last few days she heard a sort of slurping sound coming from the rug<\/span>\u2014<\/span>and every once in a while a <\/span>crack!<\/span><\/i>\u2014<\/span>but then that eventually stopped and the rug lay flat again, not a lump to be seen.<\/span><\/p>

Sipping her morning tea by the front window, Edna took a moment to look at the rug more closely. If she wasn\u2019t mistaken, it looked newer somehow, the design on it brighter and more colourful. It looked like two bright red pools surrounded by some darker colours, but other than that she couldn\u2019t make out what it was.<\/span><\/p>

She finished her tea, went upstairs and got dressed. She hadn\u2019t been shopping in weeks and the cupboards were practically bare. Now that she had money in hand, it might be a good idea to stock up on groceries.<\/span><\/p>

She was just about ready to leave the house when there was a knock on the door<\/span>.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>

\u201c<\/span>Now who could that be?\u201d Edna said aloud.<\/span><\/p>

She went to the door and opened it to find a young woman standing on her front porch<\/span>. <\/span>She had coal-black hair, tanned skin and wore a large round pair of dark sunglasses.<\/span> Although it was quite mild out she had on a big fur coat made from dozens of tiny pelts. Edna thought of the poor hamsters that had died in the creation of that coat and disliked the woman immediately.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cEdna <\/span>Dowell?\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cYes!\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cI\u2019m Maria Genetti, my father owns this building.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cIsn\u2019t that wonderful,\u201d she said warmly.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>

The woman took off her sunglasses, revealing small brown eyes that were covered by far too much makeup. Her painted eyes narrowed into slits as she looked at Edna. <\/span>\u201cSo, <\/span>he left the house a week ago to collect overdue rent and he hasn\u2019t been seen since<\/span>. <\/span>And since you\u2019re one of the two tenants of his that are overdue, I was wondering if he came here?\u201d<\/span><\/p>

Edna was silent a moment, thinking what she should do. If she said he\u2019d been there and then left, the police would surely come asking questions<\/span>. <\/span>If she said he\u2019d never been there, then this woman<\/span>\u2014<\/span>this evil, evil woman<\/span>\u2014<\/span>might go away, but she\u2019d end up leaving with all the overdue rent money. That would never do!<\/span><\/p>

She looked up at the woman. \u201cMaria?\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cHe was here, Maria<\/span>.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cReally? <\/span>When?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>

\u201cThis morning.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cThat\u2019s wonderful,\u201d she said with sigh of relief.<\/span><\/p>

Edna nodded<\/span>. <\/span>\u201cHe came in here looking for rent money<\/span>.<\/span>\u201d She paused a moment, as if trying to remember. \u201cAnd then he went into that closet over there and never came out.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>

The look on the woman\u2019s face soured<\/span>. <\/span>\u201cWhat <\/span>are you talking about?\u201d But, then, ever so slowly, a look of terror crept over her features as Edna\u2019s words played on her mind<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cLet <\/span>me see!\u201d she said, barging past Edna toward the closet at the end of the hall.<\/span><\/p>

No manners, thought Edna<\/span>. <\/span>Just like her father<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>

The young woman opened the closet door and peered inside<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>

Edna went silently into the kitchen, knowing the woman would stand there in front of the closet for a few moments, unable to see anything in its shadowy depths<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cThere\u2019s nobody in here,\u201d she said, her head still buried deep in the darkness. <\/span>\u201cWhere did he go?\u201d<\/span><\/p>

She pulled back from the closet and turned around.<\/span><\/p>

Only to get a good look at the rolling pin.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cWhat happened to my<\/span>\u2014<\/span>\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>

Up close.<\/span><\/p>

Maria <\/span>Genetti <\/span>had had <\/span>some <\/span>money <\/span>on <\/span>her, but not much<\/span>. <\/span>She certainly wasn\u2019t as well <\/span>off <\/span>as her father had been. After Edna had gone through her purse and pockets she barely had two hundred dollars to show for it.<\/span><\/p>

Oh well, she thought. Better than nothing<\/span>. <\/span>She put the money in her own purse, stepped over the body in the hallway and left the house to do the shopping.<\/span><\/p>

When she returned an hour later with her wheeled wire cart laden with groceries, she was surprised to find the dead woman\u2019s body lying face down in the hallway. Standing over the corpse, she tried to recall what had happened, then began nodding.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cYes, yes,\u201d she said. \u201cOf course. Mustn\u2019t leave people lying around in hallways<\/span>. <\/span>What would the neighbours think?\u201d<\/span><\/p>

And with that, she took off her coat, brought the grocery bags into the kitchen, then dragged the body into the living room. As she moved the body closer to the rug she noticed something strange about the floor covering. The edge of the rug was trembling slightly, like the upper lip of a starving man who\u2019d just caught the scent of fresh-baked bread<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cPatience,\u201d she told the rug in a tone of voice more suited to house pets than home furnishings.<\/span><\/p>

Then with one last push she managed to move the body into position<\/span>. <\/span>She raised the edge of the rug, gave the body a kick and watched as the rug curled around the corpse, pulling it wider.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cThank you,\u201d she said to the rug<\/span>. <\/span>\u201cNow, where was I?\u2019\u2019 She saw the empty wire cart standing at the front door. \u201cJust about to go shopping.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

She put her dirty tan coat back on and left the house, headed for the market.<\/span><\/p>

The lump in the rug was gone <\/span>in just <\/span>under three days<\/span>. <\/span>Edna spent <\/span>nights sitting in her rocker watching it slowly getting smaller, shrinking like a block of ice on a warm spring day. There were still the same slurping sounds coming from the rug, but only for a little while and only near the end.<\/span><\/p>

After the lump was gone, things settled down and Edna was at peace knowing she had more than enough money to live on and that any new problems that arose could be easily swept under the rug.<\/span><\/p>

She was happy for the first time in years.<\/span><\/p>

About a week later there was another knock at the door.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cWho <\/span>is it?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>

\u201cPolice, ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

Edna glanced through the peephole and saw the uniformed policeman. \u201cWhat do you want?\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cI\u2019d like to ask you a few questions, Mrs. Dowell. We\u2019re looking for two missing persons, Marty Genetti and his daughter Maria.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

Edna was silent. If she didn\u2019t let the policeman in he might get suspicious, thinking she had something to hide. Better to let him in, answer his questions and send him on his way. \u201cJust a minute,\u201d she said, opening the door.<\/span><\/p>

The police officer was young and handsome, with short blond hair, a bushy blond mustache and pale blue eyes.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cCome in.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cThank <\/span>you, ma\u2019am<\/span>.<\/span>\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>

\u201cNow, how can I help you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cWell, I\u2019ve been going through the neighbourhood asking everyone if they\u2019ve seen either of the two people. Marty Genetti owned a lot of property on this block.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cIs that so?\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cYes, and he was known to make visits around the first of each month to collect rent from problem tenants.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cProblem tenants?\u201d she asked with a smile. \u201cWell, that must be why I never saw much of him.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

The police officer gave her a polite smile.<\/span><\/p>

Edna looked shyly away and noticed the rug.<\/span><\/p>

It was moving.<\/span><\/p>

The policeman kept talking. \u201cThat might be so, but some of the people on the street said they saw him knocking at your door a few weeks ago.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

Edna suddenly felt warm all over. From what the policeman had said she couldn\u2019t deny Genetti had been here. Perhaps it would be better to play along. She took her eyes off the rug for a moment and looked up at him. \u201cOh yes, that\u2019s right,\u201d she said, feigning recollection. \u201cYou\u2019ll have to excuse me, my memory isn\u2019t what it used to be.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cThat\u2019s all right,\u201d the policeman nodded, \u201cmy mother\u2019s like that sometimes.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cHe <\/span>was <\/span><\/i>here. Came to check on a leaky tap in the bathroom, but I\u2019d fixed it the day before, so we sat and had tea in the kitchen. Ate two and a half of my biscuits, and then he left.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

The policeman scribbled some notes in his book, asking Edna further questions about when Marty Genetti arrived and how long he had stayed.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cI <\/span>can\u2019t recall such things very well<\/span>. <\/span>It might have been ten minutes, it might have been an hour.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

As the policeman continued making notes, Edna took the opportunity to glance back at the rug. It was less than a foot away from the policeman\u2019s big black boot, inching closer.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cPerhaps you\u2019d like to join me for tea as well?\u201d she asked, walking across the living room and placing both feet on the edge of the rug to hold it in place. \u201cI brew the best on the block.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cI\u2019d <\/span>love to ma\u2019am, but I\u2019ve got fourteen more apartments to check out and the captain doesn\u2019t like approving overtime<\/span>.<\/span>\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cAnother time, perhaps?\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0\u201cMaybe.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cOh, that would be wonderful.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

The policeman took a few tentative steps to the door, waiting for Edna to escort him out. When he finally realized she intended to remain standing in place on the edge of the rug he said, <\/span>\u201cWell, <\/span>goodbye.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cGoodbye,\u201d chimed Edna. \u201cAnd good luck.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

When the man was gone and the door closed, Edna stepped off the rug and pointed <\/span>an admonishing finger at it. \u201cNaughty rug!\u201d<\/span><\/p>

A ripple coursed over the edge of the rug, and then it was still.<\/span><\/p>

Ten days <\/span>later, <\/span>there was yet another knock on the door.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cWho is <\/span>it?\u201d <\/span>Edna <\/span>asked<\/span>.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>

\u201cHealth Department.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

Edna said nothing. Why would the Health Department be knocking on her door? \u201cThere\u2019s nothing wrong with my health,\u201d she said. \u201cThanks just the same.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cNo ma\u2019am. Some people on the block have been complaining of a bad smell these last few days. I need to take a look around, see if it\u2019s coming from your apartment.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cI don\u2019t smell<\/span>.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cNo one\u2019s saying you do, ma\u2019am. But there were several complaints and I\u2019ve got to check out the entire block.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

Edna thought it over. If there was a smell (which there was not!) the man wouldn\u2019t be easily shooed away. Better to let him in to take a look around, satisfy his curiosity.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cAll right,\u201d she said, at last opening the door<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>

He was a middle-aged man with a mustache and greying black hair. The name over his pocket read <\/span>\u201cDave.\u201d <\/span>As he stepped inside, he began sniffing. \u201cSomething die in here?\u201d<\/span><\/p>

Edna sniffed too, smelling nothing. \u201cYou watch it, sonny. I might be old, but …\u201d<\/span><\/p>

He stepped further into the house, sniffing like a bloodhound<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>

It was obvious to Edna he was looking for something and wouldn\u2019t stop until he found it. Best to stop him first.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cOh, <\/span>I know,\u201d she said<\/span>. <\/span>\u201cMaybe <\/span>it has something to do with the hole in the wall inside the pantry<\/span>.<\/span>\u201d<\/span><\/p>

Dave looked at her curiously<\/span>. <\/span>\u201cWhat hole in the wall?\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cCome and I\u2019ll show you.\u201d She led him into the kitchen and opened the door to the large walk-in pantry filled with canned food, the steering wheel from a 1972 Maverick, and two department store mannequins.<\/span> \u201cSee that hole there?\u201d Edna pointed inside the pantry and stepped back to let the man by.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cI don\u2019t see anything.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>

\u201cMaybe it\u2019s behind Dolly.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

Dave shifted one of the mannequins, then tried the other. \u201cNope.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

He began easing himself out of the pantry when the back of his head was bashed in by Edna\u2019s rolling pin. He let out a cry and slumped forward. After a moment, he put a hand over the back of his crushed skull and moaned in terrible pain<\/span>. <\/span>His foot slipped on the kitchen floor and he fell backwards, hitting his head again.<\/span><\/p>

As blood pooled around his skull he looked up at Edna, his eyes blinking as if to ask, \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/span><\/p>

In answer to the question, the rolling pin came down again, sending his forehead deep into his brain.<\/span><\/p>

I took <\/span>Edna <\/span>the rest of the day to drag the body into the <\/span>li<\/span>ving <\/span>room, and the rest of the night to <\/span>clean <\/span>up the <\/span>blood<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>

By the time Edna dragged herself upstairs to bed, the lump under the rug had shrunk by half and the rug itself was coloured with deep black-and-purple swirls that circled the two crimson pools like hurricanes around an eye.<\/span><\/p>

The next morning, the lump was gone.<\/span><\/p>

It had been two days <\/span>since <\/span>Dave had <\/span>visited <\/span>and <\/span>Ed<\/span>na wondered <\/span>why <\/span>more Daves hadn\u2019t <\/span>stopped <\/span>by-<\/span>\u2014<\/span>or even a Bill or Bob<\/span>. <\/span>But while it was a concern, future visits from the Health Department wasn\u2019t what worried her most. It was the rug<\/span>. <\/span>It had started getting unruly.<\/span><\/p>

Ever since the policeman\u2019s visit the rug had begun to move. Not much at first, just a few inches here or there, but enough that Edna was forever setting it right. Over time, it began roaming the room, its bright red circles looking more like angry eyes with <\/span>each <\/span>passing day.<\/span><\/p>

Now, every time she walked through the living room it moved toward her, its edges rippling and undulating as if in a wave. At first she thought it was cute that the rug followed her around like a cat wanting milk, but as the days wore on and there were no more visitors, the rug had gotten downright feisty.<\/span><\/p>

This morning after breakfast when she walked past it on her way upstairs, it had nipped at her feet, taking one of her pink slippers from her foot in the process.<\/span><\/p>

\u201cBad rug,\u201d Edna scolded, kicking it with her other slippered foot. \u201cBad.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

And then the rug lurched forward, pulling the second slipper off, leaving her foot scratched and red with blood, as if it had been rubbed with sandpaper.<\/span><\/p>

Edna ran from the living room and hurried up half a dozen steps before turning back around<\/span>. <\/span>The rug was there on the landing, trying to flow up the first step but unable to pull itself off the floor.<\/span><\/p>

Edna sat there for a long time, catching her breath and watching the rug with a mix of fear and fascination. Finally, it glided back into its familiar spot in the middle of the living room floor where it lay still, except for the wave that undulated around its edge every few minutes.<\/span><\/p>

After watching the rug for a while, Edna took a few tentative steps toward the landing. With each step the rug became more restless, almost like a dog growling at the approach of a stranger. As she set her foot on the landing, the rug slid across the floor, its leading edge curled back in a sneer.<\/span><\/p>

Edna turned around, ran up the stairs into her bedroom and slammed the door.<\/span><\/p>

Edna <\/span>spent <\/span>the next day in her bedroom. <\/span>Twice <\/span>she ventured out trying the <\/span>steps only <\/span>to find the rug waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.<\/span><\/p>

It had managed to curl over the first step and was inching up the second. Seeing that, she went back into her room and crawled back into bed.<\/span><\/p>

But as the day wore on the first pangs of hunger began to gnaw at her belly. It had been<\/span> more than twenty-four hours since she\u2019d had a bite to eat and with each hour that passed she grew more acutely aware of how hungry she was.<\/span><\/p>

It almost made her laugh. The kitchen was full of food and her purse was full of money, but the thing that helped her to get those things was the same thing that was going to deny her their pleasures.<\/span><\/p>

It was almost better to be penniless and starving.<\/span><\/p>

Almost, but not quite.<\/span><\/p>

She pondered her situation well into the evening, and was finally struck by a thought, a way to satisfy both hungers<\/span>\u2014<\/span>hers as well as the rug\u2019s.<\/span><\/p>

She picked up the phone.<\/span><\/p>

And ordered a pizza.<\/span><\/p>

——————————–<\/p>

To find out more about the author or to purchase one of his books go here.<\/a><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Like a lot of elderly people, Edna\u2019s got money problems. She copes as best she can. And when it all gets to be too much for her, she can always sweep her problems under the rug.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":1006,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"default","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"default","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":""},"categories":[3,13,31],"tags":[20],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/storytellernetwork.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1004"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/storytellernetwork.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/storytellernetwork.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytellernetwork.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytellernetwork.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1004"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/storytellernetwork.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1004\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytellernetwork.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1006"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/storytellernetwork.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1004"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytellernetwork.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1004"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytellernetwork.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1004"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}