The Soot

 The Soot

    I opened my eyes to the morning light and was shocked to find a red hue was bleeding through the blinds and splashed across the walls of my bedroom. 

    I was going to go back to sleep and write the images off as an echo of a bad dream brought on by slightly old COSTCO pizza that dominated my dinners as of late. My hastily laid plan to venture back into the land of snooze was immediately ripped from my hands and tossed into my face by the sounds of screaming that seemed to be coming from under my window. 

    I rolled out of my bed and onto the ground, unsure of my next action. I put my left hand on the shotgun under my bed and put my right on a medical trauma bag that was attached to my motorcycle bag. I grew frustrated with my own indecision so I took them both. 

    I ran down the stairs and out of the covered glass door that led to the small side yard that tried, but failed, to be a real space. I bolted through the fence and into the street where I stopped in my tracks. 

    The air was completely thick with soot. I couldn't make out anything past my outstretched hand. I should say I couldn't SEE anything past my outstretched hand, but I could certainly hear twice that distance as evidenced by the sudden and blood chilling scream that came from the grey cloak. 

    I yelled out, "HELLO?!" No one answered my fog horn that doubled as a greeting to the source of the terror. I slung the bag over my back, secured the magnetic clasp then I shouldered the shotgun and ensured I didn't chicken wing as I walked. I tried to illuminate the grey, but the 1000 lumen light did nothing but reflect back at me. I turned the light off and walked. 

    The shadow became a woman who bolted into me, clawing at me for assistance. I tried to get her to talk with me. I made a fatal mistake when I told her to "calm down." 

"Calm? CALM?" She questioned me while taking a step back. She placed a hand on the center of her chest and dropped her chin, cocking her right hip. "Oh you did not tell me to calm down." 

"Ma'am," I said trying to avoid this needles conversation and argument which surely go nowhere. "Are you screaming?" 

"Why do you have a gun?" She said waving her hand about. "Rambo." 

I sighed. I had no time for this as I was exceptionally nervous now. If she was not the source of the scream, who was and if she wasn't the mother of the cry, why wasn't she worried about it? I racked the shotgun. 

"Oh you going to shoot me?" She said with an angry look on her face. "Did you know it is against the HOA laws to have shotguns? You are in VIOLATION." 

"VIOLATION!" Came an echo from the misty soot. 

"What the hell are you? I haven't seen you before." I said stepping back. She reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. She must have started recording because the bright LED light came on and she held it near my face. "I am recording you. You are in violation. I am going to call 911!" 

"911!!!!" The soot echoed. I heard foot steps. No, not foot steps. I heard footfalls. The kind that come form high-heels on concrete. Like the clopping of a group of horses. 

I raised the shotgun into the high ready position and stepped back. I ordered her to step back from me, but she got angrier and bigger. Not that she appeared bigger, but that she was bigger. Her clothes were stretching to their limit around her shoulders, arms, and stomach. Her thighs tripled in size and hair poked out of the intentionally ripped jeans. 

"I am the HOA!"

I pulled the trigger. The blast blew back the sooty mist in a perfect circle and kicked me in the shoulder. I was shocked at how quick I decided on lethal force. What the hell was wrong with me? 

I panicked. I never panic. Why did I panic? What the hell is this soot? Where did it come from? None of this made sense. I was acting like a scared child and not the seasoned veteran I knew I was. Wasn't I? I had a sudden craving Starbucks coffee. I cycled the shotgun and kicked out the spent shell and pumped in a new round. I checked the 12 gauge slugs along the side of the shotgun and ensured that the rounds were alternating between the slugs and 00. Everything was there and it brought me some level of comfort, but did nothing to get my mind off of the shoes that the dead....thing...that was before me now. I love those shoes. "Why?" I said out loud. 

"HOA!" Came the response. The clopping was louder now. I ran. I couldn't find my own house for some reason. I was lost in the mist and some of the houses that were peaking through the grey-ness appeared the same. Same color, same lawn, same decorations, same everything. Mirror images all of them. This wasn't my neighborhood. Not the one I lived in. 

I started running then sprinting then hauling ass. I didn't know where I was going, but I wanted to get there now. 

I ran face first into a man and we went to the ground together. He was panicked as well. He rolled over and stood up. He was holding a bat with blood on it. He saw my shotgun and put his hand up and said, "whoa." I looked down at my weapon then back at him. "I'm sorry-No. I'm not going to shoot you." 

"What the hell is this?" He said without taking his eyes off of me. 

"I don't know," I responded. "I killed one of them." I admitted. "I'm sorry-I don't know why I said that." 

He shook his head. "It's ok. I did too. I..." he said, "uh, I understand your feelings," he said making a weird face. "I don't know why I said that." He said. 

"It's OK....I understand too." I said confused. "What happened?" I asked. 

"I was outside when the soot came. It was sudden. I turned around and there she was. This...woman. She had a ruler and she was measuring my plants. She said, 'these are too big.' I said 'what?' She said 'you need to cut them or have your home burned to the ground per HOA rules. I demand you comply!' I freaked out and exploded at her. I hit her with this bat. I didn't mean to, but I felt I had to." 

"HOA!" Came the response. 

"They're getting closer." I said. Without saying a word, we ran for the nearest house. The door was locked, but I stepped back and was about to kick through it when it opened. A man in a suit and a woman in a 1950's dress let us in. They closed the door and locked it behind us. I ran to the window and started outside as a group of shadows came clomping by. They measured plants, looked at the paint on the house, dusted for dirt in the sidewalk and weighed the patio furniture. As soon as they were done, they ran away. 

I turned to find the couple look at us with a blank smile. The man stuck his hand out and said sharply, "HI! I'm Fredrick. Excellent to meet you. Say, would you like some coffee?" 

I didn't get a chance to answer as his wife produced four cups of coffee from behind her back. She handed me and my new friend a cup then she darted away to the kitchen. 

"Great morning, isn't it?" Fredrick said looking outside. "Perfect HOA day!" 

"What did you say?" My friend said. I put a hand on his shoulder, for some reason, and said it was OK. "It is a good day," I agreed. 

Fredrick turned to look at us and asked us if we needed a tie and slacks. "Slacks?" I asked. "I, no. I'm good. Thank you." 

Fredrick frowned and his flat stomach popped out a bit. The signs of a beer belly peaked out from his starched button down shirt and a bit of a soul patch appeared under his lip. "Can I get you a tie?" He said to my friend. 

"No," my friend said. I later learned his name was Tom. Tom the neighbor. Tom was not backing down about the tie. 

Fredrick farted. 

His wife, Greta, came out from the kitchen with plates of food neatly prepared and in accordance with HOA rules for Tuesdays. "Would you like a scone?" She asked. Then she stopped and frowned too. "Where are your slacks?" She asked. Her ankles got fat and her hair appeared shorter. Almost...like a bob-cut. Thick eyeliner appeared under and over her eyes that made it look as if someone caked tar around her eyelashes in some odd attempt to make her dull, blue cow-like eyes "pop." 

"I think we should be going." I said reaching for the door knob. 

Fredrick stammered. "Friends are supposed to stay for ten minutes not to exceed fifteen minutes. Anything less or more is a violation of the HOA." 

"HOA?" I asked. 

"Aren't you members?" Fredrick asked suddenly smelling of BO and beer. 

"No," Tom said. "No, we aren't." 

Greta suddenly expanded from a perfect size 2 to 25 and dropped in height to a tiny 5'. A greasy etched line appeared on her chest, dividing her pillowy soft and dropping breasts into two neatly folding loafs of overcooked white bread. 

Tom was apparently offended because he hit Greta across the back of the head with the bat, which knocked her into the wall where a "Live, Love, Laugh" fake wooden sign suddenly appeared. 

"RUN" I barked. 

I threw the door open and waited for Tom, but it was too late. Fredrick grabbed him by the neck and was holding him up against the wall as Greta moved a box over. She climbed onto the box and forced Tom's mouth open, "This is an HOA approved craft beer from the upper class area in the city!" Then she poured the horrid liquid down his face and throat. I watched, in terror, as Kakis formed over Tom's once amazing blue jeans. He was suddenly wearing a pastel colored polo shirt and dress shoes. He fought as hard as he could, but they just kept adding craft beer. 

When they were done, Tom was a thin man with a polo on and a sweater around his shoulders. He laughed with Fredrick and commented about baseball. "Isn't it a great sport?" Tom asked. Fredrick responded, "It's America's Sport!" Then they laughed and laughed. They laughed until I shot them both. Then I shot Greta. Not because she was a threat, but no one that short and fat should wear capris. 

I turned around and the shadow group was there. "Not HOA approved," the larger one said removing my shot gun and handing me a broom. Another one grabbed me from behind and asked me if my mailbox was checked every night after 5pm, but not after 6pm. I didn't know what to say so I didn't answer. I just let out a loud, shaking scream as they ripped my clothes off and made me put on boat shoes. I kicked and punched, but it was of no use. They were just all so fluffy and soft it was like punching marshmallows that smelled like Target perfume. 

I looked down at myself and I was wearing male capris, no socks and a short sleeve button down. An iPhone hung in my pocket along with the keys to a VW Rabbit. 

"HOA approved" they said. I screamed again and again. That's when I heard someone call out to see if I needed help. But it was too late for me. I just wanted to double check every car on the block to ensure they all had the proper tire pressure and were spotless despite the rain last night. I was HOA approved.