Visiting Grandmother

The moon was full. I knew this because I payed attention to the phases. But one would never know it. The road was dark with only my headlights to illuminate the path. Rain gushed over my windshield and my wipers were whipping back and forth at a furious pace. The wind blew viscously slamming branches and leaves on my windshield. I could barely see the flashing yellow lights- road closed. I sighed. The detour was marked with an orange sign. I turned off on to the alternate road. This was not my usual route, but whatever, I needed to keep going. I drove on, leaning in and peering out the front window.

Finally, the rain stopped. The wind blowing through the trees sent big drops down, but my wipers could keep up. In place of the rain, a dense fog developed which stretched from the road upward. I was trapped in the white swirly clouds that enveloped the road and everything around it. The beam of my headlights bounced back making it difficult to see. I switched on the fog lamps. That helped. I opened the car door so I could see the edge of the road. Swampy, boggy pools and puddles lay on both sides of the road. Driving into them meant certain death. Nobody ever drove down this road. But, here I was in my little red BMW, a steadfast vehicle. I watched the white painted stripe and kept the car wheel aligned with it. On and on I drove. The dense fog made me dizzy.

The wind finally stopped and all was still. Suddenly an eerie howl pierced the silence. My skin prickled and the hair on my neck stood up. What in the hell was that. I thought. I stopped the car and looked around. There was nothing and even if there was something, I couldn’t see it. I shut the car door. I’ll take my chances staying on the road. I continued on and the fog began to lift. Only swirls on the road remained. I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, I could see where I was going.

It would be hours before I got to my grandmother’s house. I never understood why she lived way out in the middle of a Louisiana swamp. But, she asked for some things from town; fresh bread, milk, butter, and a warm blanket that I crocheted for her. This was a ritual for me. Every month I made this journey, but never this late in the evening. It must have been close to midnight. That said, I loved Grandmother dearly and I would brave any eerie bog to visit with her.

Suddenly, huge wolf appeared in the road in front of me. I slammed on the brakes and screeched to a stop just shorting of hitting it. The wolf’s huge yellow eyes stared at me. He was was handsome fellow, but the sharp teeth dripping with saliva were not friendly. For a long moment we stared at each other. The wolf daring me to exit the car. But, I was not stupid. I sped around him. I looked in my rear view mirror and he was gone. Perhaps I scared him back into the swamp.

I turned onto the gravel road the led to my grandmother’s house. She lived in a humble wooden cottage by herself and had lived in that place ever

since I was born and probably long before that. Grandmother kept busy collecting herbs and various plants and making potions and salves. She would give me a basket full of them to take back to town and sell for her. It was a modest income, but enough. She didn’t need much.

I could see the lights from her windows just up ahead. But, as I was approaching the driveway, she came bursting out of the house in nothing but her nightgown. Her long silver hair was messy and she had no shoes on her feet. She ran toward the car waving her hands. “Let me in!” She yelled. I unlocked the door and she jumped into the passenger seat. “There was a great black wolf at my back door,” she said breathlessly. “It came right into the house.”

“Let’s get out of here,” I said and quickly turned around and sped down the gravel road. “Are you ok Grandmother?” I asked. She didn’t look good at all. Her skin was saggy and eyes sunken in.

“I’m just fine, little girl,” she replied in strange voice.

I turned my head to look and it was not Grandmother. It was the wolf! His great yellow eyes and slavering snout were so close that I smell his carnivorous breath. I stopped the car. Terrified, I reached under my seat grabbled my Glock 9 mm. Thankfully it was loaded. I shot that wolf- each bullet buried it his thick skull. He was dead. All of a sudden, I became aware that he was still moving with protrusions coming out of is large stomach. I watched in horror as arm poked through the wolf’s flesh. Then another arm. Finally a head, a familiar head. “Grandmother!” I cried. She emerged bloody and covered in gastric contents.

Grandmother was alive and as feisty as ever. “That damn wolf,” she said. “He’s been after me for years. Luckily I had my wolfsbane potion and this sliver talisman!” She laughed as she opened the door and unceremoniously kicked the wolf’s carcass out of the car. “Let’s go home,” she said. “I need a bath!”

I was not ready to laugh about this situation. I took a shaky breath and turned the car back to Grandmother’s house.