HANDLING A HOBGOBLIN

Mary was already aboard. I fired up the Kombi and cleared out with a wave of thanks to the servo

bloke. “OK, Mary plan of attack. What'll we do?”

Mary's got a map spread out over her lap. "Well," she said, "about an hour away, there's a cross road, north to Queensland or south to Victoria.”

"All along the way there's cross roads to explore together." I said. "That's if you let me sing, otherwise ---"

"You only know one song, you're tone deaf and you're too loud."

"I know two songs." I said indignantly, "One's Happy Birthday and I forget for the moment what the other one is."

We drove on in sombre silence.

“The intersection's coming up. Which way will we go” Mary asked.

"Oh yeah, there's a road south that will bring us into Dubbo then the long way around to Sydney. Or even down to Melbourne.”

“Is it an intersection with a road going north,” she asked.

“Yeah, that way lies Brisbane”

We found our intersection, turned off and headed south, secure in the knowledge that we were

now probably lost. I put the radio on, but could only get stock reports.

“Would you like me to sing to you? I think I know all the verses of of 'One Hundred Green Bottles.'"

“No, no and no. Please shut up. I'm praying for divine intervention.”

That's just not nice! I gave her the silent treatment. Very little traffic on our narrow, dark road with overhanging trees. Mary's gone quiet. For a moment ---

“Vince.”

“What?”

“I need to go to the toilet.”

“Can you wait until we find civilization?”

“I'll let you know.”

“Plan B is into the woods,” I told her, which led to indistinct muttering.

A little while later a two-pump service station cum general store hove into view. We parked and

went in. Mary asked the nice old lady if she could use the toilet. Okay, no worries. I had a look in

their fridge. I rather fancied a cold drink. I spotted stubbies of beer! How civilized! I bought one. I'd considered giving up alcohol, but Cicero said, "Come sup the cup that cheers." It was hard to argue with that.

I fuelled up and sat on the bench outside, thinking, or maybe dozing. Must be getting old. "C'mon Mary!" I yelled.

A battered old ute rattled in. The driver looked like a short, bushy ugly gnome. No, a hobgoblin. Stained old felt hat pulled down to his ears, clothes salvaged from a scarecrow and a waft of body odour that would make my eyes water if he was closer. He was staring at me as he fuelled up.

Ever the gentleman, I said, “G'day, mate. How ya doin'?” He grinned. Not a pretty sight. Teeth

missing, a few day's whiskers, scraggy hair down to his shoulders.

“Grunt,” he replied. I wondered if he had done well on his school debating team.

Mary exploded from the servo. "Why on earth are you yelling at me?"

“I thought you'd gone to sleep in there. Saddle up, Toots. Miles to do afore night falls.”

“Vince, that strange man's staring at me.”

“Have you been showing cleavage again? You sex-bomb goddess!” Punch. Bloody woman!

I sneaked a peek at the bushy. He really looked like a drooling hobgoblin. He kept staring at us!

“Let's go. He's too weird for me,” I shuddered and hit the road in full Kombi thunder mode. Well, we chugged on. Nothing passed us either way. Mary was more relaxed and was quite happily discussing my faults, the lovely autumnal countryside and surprisingly, more of my faults.

I shut up and concentrated on the road. I noticed someone in a hurry coming up from behind. As it drew near, I slowed a bit and eased over to let it pass comfortably. It swung out, pulled

abreast and the hobgoblin looked across at us. I'm snatching glances at him. Apart from looking like a grinning loon, he didn't look right. I'd say on his best day, he wouldn't look right. The word demented came to mind. I braked hard. He shot ahead and drove off. A little bit of hill-billy humour? He disappeared into the distance and around a bend. Odd, I'm thinking. Hmm. Better be prepared. “Mary, slip back and get me the steak knife out of the kitchen drawer.”

“What are you planning on doing? Cleaning your fingernails with it? ”

“Please, Mary, just do it! It's just a precaution.” She went back. I love walk-through Kombis.

“Here it is, one steak knife. I can't imagine what you're going to do with it.”

“The unimaginable.” I slipped the knife up my sleeve blade first and slid the hilt under my watch

band. Armed and dangerous! I hope!

“Vince, you're very strange.”

“Mary dearest, look ahead.”

A short distance ahead was the hobgoblin in the middle of the road, waving at us. As we got

closer I saw he had a rifle pressed close to his side. I thought of running over him but he pointed the rifle at us. I should have run over him but I suspected that Mary would have gotten a bit excited.

“Vince he's pointing a gun at us! He's going to kill us with it.”

“No, he only wants to rob us. Now calm down and listen carefully, Mary. This may be the most

important thing anyone's ever said to you, in your whole life. I may want you to distract him. Listen for me to say the word distract, Okay? Sing, tap-dance, anything. Distract!”

“Vince, if you mention cleavage again, I'll kill you.”

“Do whatever it takes!” The rifle's pointing right at me. He pointed to our left. There's a narrow overgrown track going in a few yards. I could see the back of his ute. So I did as he indicated.

We're in a bit of a clearing. The hobgoblin followed us in. “Get out,” he said. He's grinning and

dribbling with joy and excitement and probably some disease as well. Good old take-charge Vincent

takes charge. “What's the problem? Are you going to rob us? We've hardly got enough to make it

worth while, we were robbed last night at the pub.”

“Nah. I'm gunna search yez van and I rather fancy the lady."Then he added pensively, "I haven't had a lady for a while."

"Really?" I said, "I thought a tough, handsome chap like yourself would be knee-deep in ladies?"

I held Mary steady by the arm. She's shaking like a leaf. I don't need her to go to bits just yet.

“So what are you going to do now?”

“I'm going to tie yez up and shoot yez in the legs, if yer give me any trouble.”

“Hey, no trouble, Mate,” I assured him

He pointed his rifle at Mary. "Get the rope outa the back of the ute.”

“Mate, hang on a minute. This is very distracting," I said.

Mary took a couple of paces towards the ute. "Distracting!” I repeated. We were well separated. The hobgoblin was trying to watch us both. The barrel of the rifle was swinging about. Mary said,”If you're going to tie me up, I'm going to get changed first. Do you mind?” With that, she bent over, took the hem of her old house dress and hoisted it into the air. Both the hobgoblin and I were staring. Damn fine legs, I thought. The hobgoblin probably found them exciting. I, on the other hand, was more blase. But they did the job!

She looked over her shoulder at the hobgoblin, smiled and said, "I do hope you don't mind.” By

this time the gun was sagging, pointing at the ground. He'd forgotten about me. He was staring, slack jawed and his dribble had increased to a drool.

I pulled my knife out and lunged beside the sagging barrel, grabbed it half way along and jabbed

the knife in his throat. Just enough to draw blood. The gun went off. Dunno where the shot went. Nowhere near us, I hoped. If Mary wasn't here, I'd kill the drooling idiot.

“Let go of the gun. Now! Or I'll kill you.” He had no choice. I had a grip on the gun and was

shoving the knife into his throat. He let go, back-pedalled and landed on his butt. I reversed the gun, an old bolt action, ejected the spent casing and jacked a new round into the breach.

“Now Stupid, if you give me any trouble, I'll shoot you in the groin. I might, anyway.” His hands

went to his groinal area and his bony knees clunked shut. I looked around at Mary, she was looking over her shoulder at me. Stunned.

“Well done, that woman! Don't move, keep him distracted.” I think she finally noticed it was only

me that was distracted and lowered her hemline. She was blushing. I don't know if it was with

excitement or the shameless lack of decorum on her own behalf. I'll get her to re-enact the scene later, so I can decide.

“Alright, Stupid, anymore guns? Lie to me and you die!”

He nodded and pointed to his ute. "Behind the seat."

“Mary, bring me the rope and then search his ute.”

“You! Stupid. Get undressed,” I snarled.

His eyes bugged out, “Whaffor?”

“When you're naked, I'm going to hang you up by your feet and skin and gut you while you're

alive. I might even eat your liver raw while it's warm. Isn't that what you do when you hunt something down? Rescuers may find you by following the blowflies.” His eyes were sticking out of his head. I'm guessing by the smell that he may have had a little accident.

He was crying and screaming, “No! No!”

Mary chimed in, “Vince, don't you dare!”

I thought of calling the cops but we could be buggered about for days - weeks even.

“OK, OK. I won't hurt you,” said Vincent the Merciful. “But get your gear off. I'm going to hide them

to give us plenty of get-away time.” Re-assured he struggled out of his clothes. Mary came

back with another rifle and a scungy overnight bag. She looked at him, shuddered and averted her

gaze. He was not a pretty sight. He looked like a plucked chook with a trickle of blood running

down onto his scrawny chest.

“OK, Stupid, stuff all your clothes in the bag,” I said. “Now I'm going to tie your hands up and

you can wait on the side of the road until someone comes along and unties you.”

He went bonkers, “No, no, somebody might wanna take advantage of me, me bein' naked.”

“I doubt it. Mary, take the gun and aim at him. If he startles you, neuter him.”

I got behind him and tied his hands loosely. He should be able to free himself in ten minutes. I

searched his ute and found a few odd pieces of clothing, his car keys, and his mobile phone. We

loaded everything into the Kombi. Before we left, I stabbed two of his tyres. That'll slow him down,

seeing he's only got one spare.

A mile up the road we dumped the bag full of clothes, phone and keys into the bushes. I removed

the bolts and bullets from the two guns and flung them further up the road. Further along again, we did the same with the now useless rifles.

The hobgoblin had one option. Try to make his way back to the little general store on foot, thus shocking the nice old lady proprietress. She may think he's a crazy, naked pervert and shoot him.

But we're off to the Big Smoke, Mary was glaring as I sang, "Adieu, adieu, kind friend ---"

THE END

Read more of Vic's Short Stories, Short Stories