Harris Burdick

Faith Freshwater:

Under the Rug

Mr Carminkle was a sensible man. He ironed his clothes every morning and folded them every night, stacking them neatly so that they were ready for laundering. He dusted every Saturday and vacuumed every Sunday. He did not go out for drinks in the evening when he had work the next day, and housekeeping was also a form of work, and so he never went out. “Very sensible, Mr Carminkle” his employers would say with approval. “Oh, that’s right, I forgot how sensible you were,” colleagues, friends, and family would say with varying levels of annoyance.

So, being the sensible man that he was, when he first noticed the carpet moving he thought of a mouse. And then as it got bigger, he decided that it must be a cat. Perhaps a very large cat, he reasoned, but a cat nonetheless. After all, sensible men did not leap to wild conclusions about having monsters in their houses. That would be irrational. And absurd.

Just because the lump underneath his good quality (but not overly expensive or luxurious) rug was continuously expanding, past the possible parameters of a cat, did not instantly mean that it was a supernatural being, no matter what the television would have you believe. There was plenty of wildlife that could change their shape. He was sure of it. He was hardly an animal expert but he vaguely recalled watching some documentary about animals that shrunk to hide from predators. Or perhaps they expanded to attack?

It was moving towards him, he thought, sitting in his armchair by the window. He could hardly assume that it was choosing this direction because of him though, it was equally if not more likely in search of light or air, moving towards the outside wall. He was not one to necessarily believe in coincidences either, but that was also a distinct possibility.

It was stretching lengthways now, and with a relieved sort of confidence, Mr Carminkle decided that he had a snake on his hands. That made sense. It was just coming into winter and perhaps it had come looking for an escape from the rain. A snake was okay, he knew what to do with a snake, it was much simpler to call pest control than it would have been to deal with a cat. There were no questions about whether or not a snake was a pet or a stray, after all. No neighbours he had to worry about. And if someone was so ridiculous as to have a snake for a pet, then they should have kept it contained better. Besides, he didn’t think pest control got rid of the snakes, did they? They just took them away to a safer place. He’s sure any hypothetical neighbour of his could get it back. If they managed to prove that the could look after it properly, a fact Mr Carminkle was doubtful about.