Rattled – Short story by Mark Baker

I am not generally a person who believes in ghosts or vengeful spirits, however the odd noises from my new car were forcing me to change my mind. All logic for the cause of sudden, annoying and worrying tingling of a tiny noise had disappeared. It was suddenly there, and then gone.

Yes, I had checked the car for the umpteenth time, and still there was no obvious cause for the noise, which sounded like a loose nut bouncing around inside the car chassis.

My nerves were frayed by the end of the week, driving with tension locked around my neck; ears straining to hear the damn noise… which never came.

Lulled into a false sense of relief, the indefinable rattle returned. In frozen panic I stopped the car suddenly, to avoid a serious problem becoming worse with my new (and expensive) pride of joy.

That nearly ended in a disaster, as the car behind had to swerve. The frightening sound of a loud horn, and the subsequent red faced expletives from the angry driver, lived with me for the rest of the silent, slow, journey home. I counted my blessings as I had survived to live another day.

This could not go on, so I returned to the Car Sales and complained about the noise.

Satisfied the solution would be found quickly, I waited with a paper cup of bitter, over-sweet, coffee, provided ‘with compliments’ of the car maker. Over an hour later, the serious looking, mid-aged, engineer came it. “Sorry, Sir. Can’t find anything wrong your vehicle. I did the test drive myself. Everything is fine.” I could not believe it.

Before I could ask him to look again, he gave a faint smile and continued, “But if it happens again… bring the car back and I’ll have another look. Here are the keys.”

I left feeling I had been cheated, and, worse, was a fool. Yet the check appeared to have expelled the demon noise. For two days I drove, waiting for the demon to return. Nothing.

A week later, I was convinced the Engineer was an Angel, dispelling Evil from my cherished possession. Life was great again.

I even suggested that I take my mates for a drive again, mostly to preen like a peacock and show off my car. It’s a guy thing!

I also really hoped that one of my mates would be less morose than our previous car trip. He’d spent the whole time worrying about his cat, who we had taken to the Vets that morning.

None of the rest of us could understand why he was so attached to the flea-riddled, one-eyed, multi-coloured, moggie he had rescued from outside his apartment’s bin store. It didn’t even walk or run properly. There was no way it could chase and catch mice. It didn’t even purr. It sort of gave a low, evil sounding, growl. But it’s craws were sharp, nasty, clingy weapons.

I had discovered that, when I suggested the smelly thing was put-down. I was convinced it knew what I had said. Especially when it curled up by the fire after it had ripped my hand open, red blood oozing from the deep scratches. I had only gone to stroke it.

I swear it smiled when it farted, all comfortably curled up, and giving out it’s demonic growl whenever I was near.

I only hoped that I would not be asked again to take the foul beast to the Vets. There is only so far that friendship can be taken.

But it appeared that all was well with “Fluffy”, an incongruousness name for such evil personified, except it was moping because its favourite toy had gone missing.

I felt guilty that my first thought was, “Serve it right for being so nasty. A sweet revenge”.

But, as soon as I drove my sparkling car from the automatic Car-Wash, the thought became, “ The damn cat must have heard me,” as the infuriating loose nut sound returned. I became convinced my beautiful new car was cursed … by that voodoo cat from Hell.

Immediately I recalled the Engineer’s words, and drove straight to the Show Room, hoping the damn noise would still be heard.

Of course, by the time I got to the luxurious glass and steel car sales room, the noise had stopped, but my fast beating heart had not. I noticed that I was even sweating in fear that the mechanic could not exorcise the curse this time.

With hands actually trembling while holding the ghastly coffee, I waited the for the verdict.

My heart skipped a beat, as I saw the uniformed mechanic appear. He looked serious. “I’m afraid to tell you that there is nothing mechanically wrong with the vehicle. I did the test drive again.”

I must have looked shocked as I realised the car was actually cursed.

The mechanic smiled, and dipped into his pocket. “But we did find this.” He held a tiny plastic egg, a typical toy from Kindle Chocolates. I had never seen it before.

He shook it, and it made the all too familiar nut-rattle noise. He smiled again, “Do you have a cat? There are scratch markings on this.”

I muttered, as all became clear, “Errr…. No. But I have a mate that does.”.

The mechanic smiled broadly, “Well, I think this is cause of your rattle problems. How this egg got there you’ll have to find out.”

So Fluffy had got its revenge on me. The demon beast. I could see it smiling and farting with that contented, evil grin. He had cost me my life, and doubts on my sanity.

But, with Fluffy’s precious toy in my possession, I was ready for revenge. It was Fluffy’s turn to be rattled.