{"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
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>