IN THE NIGHT 

by Richard Banks           

The gnarled face at the window had yet to arrive, but it would not be long. With the setting of the sun the old man made one final round of the house, checking locks on doors and drawing each curtain tight with a practiced precision that allowed no glimpse of the gathering darkness. He could sense the nearness of his enemy as it traveled westwards hiding in the black sky that would soon replace the remaining strands of twilight.

      The old man retreated to the kitchen and prepared his evening meal, taking comfort in the familiar kitchen noises. Outside, in his garden, the uneasy stirring of a eucalyptus tree heralded the arrival of the creature. For the moment all was quiet and might remain so, for there were many uneventful stand-offs in this long war of attrition. At worse the creature would roar its unreasoning malevolence and shake windows and doors in its frenzied attempts to gain entry.

      The man took his meal into the small front room that served both as his library and dining room. He read while he ate, while he listened to the night sounds outside. In his heightened state of awareness, he heard and understood every small sound - the impact of falling leaves on the concrete path, the subdued cooing of a wood pigeon, the shallow breathing of the creature as it bided its time. Once it had forced itself through a half open window and the man had fought it off with a hammer that he always kept within reach. What a battle that had been before he splintered the gnarled face into a hundred pieces. The victory had brought him a week of precious peace and then it had returned ever more determined to destroy him.

      The man continued reading past the midnight hour when the creature was at its strongest, and through the early morning until the sound of bird song announced the arrival of dawn. He waited half an hour, just to be sure, and then drew back the curtains in each room, half expecting to see his enemy at every window, but the creature was gone.

      It was safe to sleep now, time to retire to his bedroom where the curtains were always drawn, the room where he had done battle with his enemy and where the shattered remains of a mirror lay undisturbed on the bloodstained carpet.

 

Copyright Richard Banks