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Pups
Current mood:  tired
Category: Writing and Poetry
Jamal was fully aware of the squirming, yelping, thudding sack that he was carrying into the foyer of the most expensive hotel in the city. The stares of the patrons and staff were impossible to ignore.
And he didn't blame them. He would be staring too. He was wearing clothes that he hadn't worn for ten years, and should have thrown out a long while ago. With a jumper stained with oil, jeans frayed and full of holes and shoes with soles desperate to escape, he looked like a tramp.
He was bewildered and somewhat afraid; though the doorman had let him through without a problem when he told him who wanted to see, he was still worried that a security guard would appear and escort him out again.
No one came to intercept and lead him out of the premises. Even were he to walk in wearing his best working suit, he would feel uneasy, given his skin colour. He was a little surprised that a have-a-go hero hadn't jumped him or some overzealous rich woman hadn't thrown her purse and jewellery at him in pre-emptive panic.
He smiled to himself and considered having expensive items might not be so bad, in the ten seconds before every man in the room leapt on him to heroically retrieve the stolen items from him. The smile was no more than a flicker and was washed away by fear.
The shifty, unnerved looks were bad on their own, but he was left unaccosted to carry on to meet with the strange pair who were even now sitting on seats they had brought in with them and beneath a frilly parasol.
"Ah! Mister Clarke, how wonderful of you to join us," said the man who gave his name only as Haph. Haph saw the sack Jamal was dragging and bumping along and he smiled. "I see that you weren't exaggerating when you said there were a lot of them."
"I can't imagine why someone would lie about this," said Jamal. The sense of uneasiness increased as he got closer to the Haph and his female companion Sahq.
Haph shrugged and then unfurled himself from the chair. Jamal was still staggered at how tall and thin the man was. When he'd seen him walking up the garden path, he had guessed Haph was over six feet; when he opened the front door he changed his estimate to over seven feet.
"You would be surprised at how many people foolishly try to deceive Sahq and myself," said Haph, that incredible toothy smile almost unmoving as he spoke. "Something – you have discovered yourself, Mister Clarke – that is completely impossible."
Haph offered his remarkable hand to Sahq and she took it to stand, dwarfed, next to him. She offered Jamal a courteous smile that chilled him. She didn't speak, hadn't from the moment he'd first seen her, and there was something about that which drilled more fear into him.
Jamal looked at Sahq for the first time since she and Haph had sat in his living room. On a first glance he would have said that she was as emaciated at Haph, but this initial impression was always incorrect. Like Haph, it was in her hands that Sahq's true nature could be guessed at. Her hands were short, thick and stubby. Men's hands that seemed to have been attached to a small feminine body, but the nails were long and, with great care, had been varnished in a deep red colour.
Haph's hands were long. Almost as long as his forearms and gnarled with power and thick nobbly blue veins as thick as Jamal's pinkie.
He was stretching one of those mutant hands towards the squirming sack in Jamal's hand. Without thinking Jamal took a fearful step back. Haph shot him a worried, questioning glance, his cadaverous face becoming child-like.
"May I see the little darlings?" said Haph.
Jamal shook himself to maintain control and then slid the sack towards Haph's grasping hand.
With tremendous care, that looked out of character for those brutal fingers, Haph opened the sack. The rush of light caused the puppies within to yap and jump with even greater fervour. Haph sniffed and smiled with a sigh. He closed the sack again.
"Perfect!" he said and turned to Sahq. "Sahq, dear, do pay the man, for coming good on his promise."
Sahq slid forward, her hips swinging sensuously, but her pugilistic hands banging into her sides showed no grace at all.
She brought her fist up with a speed that was impossible to follow. It struck him just below the ribcage and sent him stumbling backwards until he finally fell, skidding on the fine carpet. Air blasted out of him in a rush and he lay coughing and laughing for a moment.
Sahq studied him while he rubbed the bruising place where her fist had struck. She looked like a carpenter who was checking that a wooden beam was straight.
Those first breaths in days were fantastic. Jamal got to his feet. Haph nodded at him.
"You may leave now," he said.
"Whu-what are you going to do with those pups?" Jamal gasped.
"You've done your research, Mister Clarke." This made Jamal stop laughing and he gaped in shock at Haph, but he shouldn't have been surprised, he had found out about Haph and Sahq and what he had learned was shocking and unnerving. Even from what he had witnessed of them, he found it unbelievable that any of it could be real.
The look of shock made Sahq's smile widen and reveal her perfect teeth. Even though he smiled a lot, Haph rarely showed his teeth, but they were large and just a straight and white as Sahq's.
"You have found out the rumours about us," Haph went on. "Here is the secret."
"They are all true," whispered Sahq and her voice was smooth and seductive enough to make him want to die.
Jamal felt ill and ran from the hotel. He was glad he would never see Haph and Sahq again.
© William Couper 2008
08:42
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