Read Tom Meets the Devil Page 1


Tom Meets the Devil

  Mark Petersen

  Copyright 2010 Mark Petersen

  Cover designed by Kyle Stevens

  Special thanks to Bill Whalen and Lauren Jensen for editing.

  **

  Tom bounded along the dirt road, jumping over horse apples and kicking pebbles. Briefly lifting his eyes from the worn and rutted road he looked up and saw a something which made him stop dead in his tracks. A few paces into the woods to his left was a little girl. He stared at her, bewildered and curious, a million thoughts running through his head as he gathered up the courage to speak.

  Tom walked along this road twice every day, to and from school. To his right was one of the fields belonging to the Irving family and to his left were the woods. It was Tom’s fifth year in grade school, he had walked this route many times, but until today he had never seen anyone in those woods.

  He had never seen the little girl before either. She didn’t go to his school. He figured she must be homeschooled, because his school was the only one he knew of for miles. She looked rich; she was wearing a pretty flowered sundress and white sandals with shiny brass buckles, and she was carrying a little wicker basket. She looked like she might be a year older than him, two years older at most, and her golden locks fell over a pale freckled face. She suddenly noticed he was looking at her and pushed her hair to the side revealing a warm smile and bright blue eyes.

  “Hello!” She called out to him. “Want to come pick mushrooms with me?”

  “I can’t. Mother said I mustn’t go in those woods.” Tom replied.

  “Why not?”

  Tom hesitated, “She told me once the devil lives in those woods.”

  The little girl burst out laughing, and Tom felt his face redden.

  “I hadn’t a reason to doubt it, because I had never seen anyone going into or coming out these woods-- until today.” Tom explained, still feeling a little red.

  “I’m the only one who lives in these woods!” She shouted, giggling. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  Tom took a few steps in and paused. He looked back toward the road, then turned again and looked at the girl.

  “Come on!” she giggled.

  Tom took a few more steps in and was glad to feel the red leave his face. She did not move towards him. Dodging a shimmering spider’s web, Tom pushed his way through the trees to where she stood.

  “See? It’s not so bad in here.” She smiled. “What’s your name?”

  “Thomas.” He cleared his throat. “Tom for short, you can call me Tom.”

  “I think I’ll just call you Tom for short.” She winked at him. “My name is Lucy for short, you can call me that.”

  “How come I’ve never seen you in school Lucy?”

  “I don’t go to school.”

  “Don’t your parents make you go?”

  “I don’t have any parents. Come on, let’s gather mushrooms. I know just the place. Follow me!”

  Lucy bent over and unsnapped the buckles on her sandals, placing them in the basket. She held the basket tightly under one arm, and tapped Tom’s shoulder with the other, “Tag! You’re it!” she shouted, as she bounded barefoot through the trees. Tom set his book bag down against a tree and ran after her.

  They must have run for several minutes, and Tom’s lungs were beginning to ache. He looked up to call to Lucy to slow down, but she was gone. Tom yelled out “Lucy!” and strained his ears for her reply. The wind whistled gently through the trees, and he could hear the faintest echo of his own voice bounce off of distant rocks, but there was no response. “Lucy!” he called again, louder. Again, nothing. Tom looked behind him, but could not figure out which direction he had precisely come from, there were no paths, and he was surrounded on all sides by lush trees and shrubbery.

  He decided to try to head back toward the road. After maybe half an hour of walking he supposed he should have crossed the road already and he began to worry. Afraid to make himself anymore lost, Tom found a thick patch of green moss and plopped down. He tried to replay everything over in his head: meeting Lucy, chasing her through the woods, looking for landmarks. There were none he could think of; the woods all looked pretty much the same. Endless oaks and maples undulated over little hills, an occasional pine tree, bountiful shrubbery, but no creeks or streams, no massive boulders, nothing memorable or distinct. Tom sat for an hour, hoping either Lucy would find him or he would suddenly remember something that could point him in the right direction. Eventually he decided his best bet was to simply keep moving. He got up, brushed off the seat of his pants, and began walking. He figured if he headed in a single direction he must eventually reach the edge of the woods, and he could find his way from there. Using one tree at a time as a bearing, he marched determinedly through the forest.

  Hours later Tom came to a small clearing. Finally a landmark, something distinct. He paused and looked around. Dusk was approaching; the sky was a dark blue and shadows of the trees stretched across the clearing like gruesome fingers. Tom felt a new fear as he remembered his mother’s warning, the devil lives in those woods. The woods were looking more sinister with each passing moment. They grew darker, and the shadows grew larger, overlapping, soon they would grow so large they would become one. They would become the night. Tom’s mother was surely throwing a fit right now, but Tom would have preferred that to being alone in these woods waiting for the dark. Waiting for the devil. Tom closed his eyes in an attempt to shut it all out. He shut his eyes for what felt like ages, and became convinced that when he opened them he would be face to face with the devil himself. Tom could almost feel his cold breath in his face. He could almost smell the burning sulfurous stench of hell. He must be going crazy he thought. Finally he could take it no more, and opened his eyes, bracing himself for whatever horrors might befall them. To his relief there was no devil, just the woods. They were even darker than before. Tom heard a twig snap just behind him.

  He whirled around, his heart racing, the blood completely drained from his face, eyes wide with terror. Much to his surprise, the devil wasn’t behind him either. He felt something rub up against his leg and tried to jump to his feet, lost his balance and fell back onto his rear. In front of him sat a large, black cat. Its yellow eyes looked menacing, but it was purring heavily, and Tom felt himself relax.

  “You scared me!” Tom breathed deeply letting his heart slow down. “Well, I sure am glad to see you’re just a cat.”

  Tom chuckled to himself at his foolishness and offered his hand to the cat. “Tsk tsk tsk, here kitty!”

  The cat did not move, it simply stared at Tom. Tom’s voice grew quieter as he leaned back, giving up. Tom rose to his feet immediately when the cat spoke:

  “Just a cat? I’m a little offended.”

  Tom’s throat was clenched shut. He tried to speak but his words came out in dry heaves. In just the past few minutes he had to deal with the hopelessness of being lost, the fear of being attacked by the devil, and now to top it all off was a talking cat.

  “I haven’t always been a cat.” The cat purred in a deep soothing voice. “I was once a great wizard, and ancient practitioner of magic. A cat I may be right now, but to call me ‘just a cat’ seems…imprecise.”

  Tom got his voice back. “I’m sorry–” he fished for a name.

  “You can call me Thomas, Tom for short if you like. Apology accepted.” The cat purred, almost grinning.

  Tom’s excitement distracted him, “That’s my name too!”

  “Well, call me what you like then. I have many names.” The cat advanced towards Tom.

  Tom paused and thought to himself, cat names are too silly for a cat that can talk, but human na
mes seem almost as ridiculous. Tom glanced at the cat’s large paws and a name occurred to him:

  “Can I call you Scratch?”

  “You wouldn’t be the first.”

  “I am pleased to meet you Scratch, but it’s dark and I must get home. I’m not exactly sure which way home is…” Tom looked around; the woods were shrouded in darkness. Surely there was no way to find his home now. “Perhaps you could help me.”

  “That path right there will take you all the way back to town.” The cat nodded to the right, and Tom was astounded to see a path he hadn’t noticed before. It was several feet wide, well cleared and completely obvious. He would have sworn it wasn’t there before, but he supposed he must have missed it in his frightened state earlier. Tom frowned, unsure whether or not he could trust this strange cat.

  “Of course, it is a long walk and it is quite dark…” Scratch continued. “I’ve heard it said there is a devil in these woods. You can stay with me, if you like.” He nodded to his left and Tom was again startled to see something he had missed. A small lit cottage sat just outside of the clearing. Now that definitely had not been there before. Tom was pretty sure he might be going crazy.

  Tom looked down the path again, then back at the cottage. The cottage seemed warm and inviting. Candlelight flickered through the windows, casting a yellowish glow into the forest. The path looked cold and threatening. Tom still wasn’t sure he could trust the cat, but supposed there might be even worse things he might run into if he took the road.

  “Well Ol’ Scratch, I think I will have to take you up on your offer. I’m very grateful.” Tom said, hands on his hips as he turned towards the cottage.

  “It’s my pleasure Tom. Would you like something to eat? I have some chicken leftover from my supper. It’s still warm on the woodstove. Help yourself.” The big cat ushered Tom into the cottage.

  Tom picked at the bones of the chicken, satisfied. “That was delicious, thank you very much Scratch.” With a laugh he added, “Best meal I’ve ever eaten cooked by a cat!”

  “You are very kind.” Scratch purred. “I have a lantern, you may borrow it. It has more and I’ll collect it later.” Scratch pointed with his nose to a red kerosene lantern by the door.

  “I guess I should be on my way.” Tom wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up.

  “It is awful late. You can stay or go as you please. I have a bed in the bedroom, it’s made and it hasn’t been used. Being a cat, I much prefer sleeping on the rug by the stove. It is your choice.”

  Tom glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was nearly midnight, and he was tired. He patted his full stomach and took another sip of milk. So far the cat had been trustworthy. Tom figured he was already in trouble with his folks, so it didn’t make much sense to strain himself to get home now when he could get a good night’s sleep first.

  “Thank you, I think I’ll stay.”

  “Good night then.” Scratch stretched out on the floor by the wood stove and fell asleep almost instantly. Tom quietly shut the bedroom door, stripped down to his skivvies, and slid under the covers.

  Tom awoke completely confused and disoriented. He was shivering, coiled into a ball on a moist rock floor half naked. It was very dark, not quite pitch dark but close. Around the corner he could see a faint glow, moving and flickering like light from flame. He crawled towards it, scraping his hands and knees on the rough rock. He was in a cave.

  I don’t remember falling asleep in a cave. I imagined it all? Tom hoped it had been a dream, but in the back of his mind he knew Lucy, the cat, the cottage: it was all real. A new fear gripped him as he began to survey his surroundings: cold hard rock and dripping stalactites. He crawled slowly towards the source of the light. He felt a jolt, and could hear his heart thudding rapidly in his chest. He felt the strong presence of something truly terrible.

  “Come clossser.” hissed a voice from the darkness.

  “Who are y-you?” Tom asked, his voice shaking.

  “I am the ssserpent.”

  Tom peered around the corner cautiously, his arms going weak. A large black serpent with tiny black beady eyes and gleaming white fangs slithered out from the shadows.

  “I have many namesss… I am the Prince of Liesss, the Adversssary, I am Thanatosss and I am Baal. I am the Wild Huntsssman, the Sssouth Ssstar... I am Old Ssscratch and I am Lucifer.” The serpent laughed a hissy laugh like a whisper and added, “You can call me Lucy for short.”

  Tom scrambled to his feet, shaking furiously. He tried to run away from the Beast, but his knees gave out and he collapsed in a heap, sweating and convulsing.

  “You were warned to avoid the woodsss...” The serpent hissed. “You had three chancesss to turn back. Now you are mine. There isss no essscape. You have been bitten. I have claimed you.”

  The serpent retreated back into the shadow. Tom shook and convulsed, he felt his muscles tightening, his heart thudded faster and faster. His eyes rolled back, and he plunged into darkness.

  ***

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