The Woolybugger

   You know the old expression, raining cats and dogs? Well, I saw neither cats nor dogs, but it was raining too hard for any living creature to be walking the streets of Cincinnati. I had taken the bus to the emergency room for ex rays on my fractured arm. My experience with emergency rooms is to anticipate a lengthy wait. Nothing happens there at the speed of light. It was late by the time I saw the doctor, and a heavy storm struck before I could start for home. I wasn't prepared for the rain. On a side street down from the bus stop, I observed lights shining through the window of a shop with a sign overhead labeled "Jim's Curio's". Perhaps I could find an umbrella or raincoat among the curios. I made a mad dash for the shop and felt an immense sense of relief to find the shop was still open. The friendly tinkle of a bell announced my entrance.

In the rear of the shop, an elderly gentleman rose from behind the counter. "Please come in out of the rain. These July storms arise so fast one never sees them coming. If there is anything I can help you with, just let me know."

I could see the man better as he moved into the light. I presumed his name was Jim. He certainly appeared as old as the sign hanging above the door of his shop. He was tall and gaunt, with grey hair streaked with white that reached to his shoulders. His back was severely stooped, giving the appearance of constantly leaning forward. Perhaps he bent over his counter for too many years. He leaned on an ornate cane and moved slowly in my direction. His eyes, once a bright ocean blue, were now the shade of a pale winter morning.

"May I call you Jim? My name is Sue. I saw your name on the sign." He gave a slight nod in agreement. "You see Jim, I was not prepared for this rainstorm and thought perhaps you might sell me an umbrella or slicker, so I don't drown when I get off the bus. I have about four blocks to walk home from the bus stop."

Jim turned and rummaged through a small room in the rear. "Ah, there you are. I have not used it in years." The umbrella was old and dusty and when he opened it, the material ripped down one side. He looked at it with a puzzled expression on his face. "Never seen one do that before. I'm afraid this is the only one I have and it won't be of any use to you. These summer squalls never last long. Why don't you look around the store until the storm is over? If you are in a hurry, there is a phone on the counter. Perhaps you can call a friend or your husband to come get you."

"Oh no. My husband is watching the Bengals game on TV. I would not dare ask him to come get me. I'll just brows around till the rain quits. You have a lot of unusual merchandise."

African masks hung on the north wall next to spears and an assortment of muzzle-loading rifles. A partial suit of armor like an English knight might wear lay in a heap in the corner. There was a section of old hand tools, including a crosscut saw hung at an angle on the wall. "I grew up as a kid on a farm and my father had tools like these. This is a Disston hand saw. Dad said they were the best. Let me show you how he determined the quality of a saw." She held the handle in her right hand and with her left hand gripped the end of the blade with her thumb and forefinger. Bending the saw and at the same time thumping it with her right thumb, the saw gave a bright, ringing sound. The notes changed as she changed the degree of bow in the blade.

Jim watched with interest and smiled his approval, a twinkle in his faded blue eyes.

"Do you have any old jewelry?", Sue asked.

Jim pointed to a counter on the other side of the room. "There are a few high-quality silver bracelets mixed in with the costume jewelry. Are you an expert in old jewelry too?"

Sue was looking out the window. The storm showed no sign of letting up. She walked over to the jewelry case. "Not really. I just enjoy their beauty and the workmanship that goes into a fine bracelet." She sorted through the turquoise bracelets and tried one on. "This one is really nice. How much is it?"

Jim took the bracelet and showed her the name on the inside. "This is the authentic signature of a famous Navaho artist. Almost a museum piece. I would have to get $350 for this one."

"Whew. Way too much for me. My husband would kill me."

"I'm sure that is an exaggeration. Maybe for a birthday or anniversary present?"

Sue looked back out the window. The pounding rain and howling wind had slackened. A frown creases her forehead. "No, Jim. I wasn't exaggerating. That would push him over the limit." She held up her bandaged wrist. "Burned toast is worth a fractured wrist."

"Surly you jest. Has this happened before?"

"This is only my fourth trip to the doctor. Usually it is just some bruises where they don't show. The worst is the mental abuse. I have no say in anything. No matter what I say or suggest, he scoffs and belittles me. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring you into my personal problems."

"No. I am the one that is sorry. Every individual deserves to be treated with dignity and respect, and no one should ever experience such treatment. Have you gone to the authorities?"

"Twice, but their response was to go for counseling. You can probably guess how little impact that suggestion had. The storm is about over and I had better be going. What is that furry thing on the couch?"

Jim moved protectively to put himself between Sue and the couch. "Pay no attention to that ma'am, it's a woolybugger."

"It looks so soft. Could one use it for a pillow? It's not alive, is it? Like some strange breed of cat."

"Not exactly. I found it on my travels to the far east many years ago. It was in an outdoor market and the poor man seemed desperate for money. Had I known how dangerous it was, I never would have taken it off the man's hands. I'm not sure why, but after all these years, I still keep it like a security blanket. Among all the items in the shop, this is the only one that is for sale."

"It looks so peaceful. Can I touch it?"

"That's okay, as long as you don't give it any orders."

Sue cautiously stroked the back of what appeared as a ball of fur. "It's so soft. Surely this fluff ball is not dangerous."

"Stand back and I'll show you what I mean." Jim removed a sheet of paper from his desk and lay it on the couch next to the sleeping ball of fur. "Woolybuger this piece of paper. The hair on its back stiffened, and a head appeared from beneath the fur. Beady black eyes peered out over an elongated snout. The mouth opened, revealing long, razor-sharp teeth. Stout legs appeared with each paw containing four long, sharp claws. In a matter of seconds, the sheet of paper was shredded into a thousand pieces. The feet folded back out of sight and the vicious mouth full of teeth vanished into the ball of fluff. The woolybugger lay silent and peaceful on the couch.

Sue stood with eyes wide in horror. "Oh my God, she exclaimed. I didn't see that one coming. What a frightful monster hidden in such a pretty package. I must be going before the rain starts again. Thank you for everything, Jim."

The bell rang again as Jim watched Sue hurry to the bus stop. He realized he missed her company. The bell doesn't ring so often anymore.

Three uneventful weeks had passed when Jim was startled awake from his nap by the sound of the bell ringing and the door opening. His initial response upon recognizing the customer was one of pleasure. As she drew near, he recoiled in shock. "Why Sue, what has happened? You look terrible." Her right eye was black and almost closed. A dark bruise showed above the collar of her shirt.

She limped noticeably as she approached the counter. "There are occasions, Jim, when I just can't keep my mouth shut. Remember my bastard of a husband I told you about the last time we met? Well, he is a rather large fellow. His friends call him 'bubba'. He has gained a lot of weight since his college football days where he was junior college All American. Most of his weight problems come from drinking too much beer. Two days ago, he went to the fridge for a beer and there were none. He flew into a rage, blaming me for not stocking enough. I just sort of lost my cool and replied, if you would get off your fat ass and buy your own beer, you wouldn't run out. You drink like a fish anyway. For a big man, he can certainly move fast when irritated. Afterwards, he had to drive me to the emergency room. We told the doc I fell down some stairs. As usual, I was numb with fear and agreed with what he said. The doc knew better, I could tell by the look on his face. This morning I woke up sore as hell and decided I had enough. Can you show me the woolybugger again?"

Jim studied Sue for a minute. "You can have it on a loan after I give you another demonstration. If you still want it, please tell me what you have in mind."

Sue handed Jim an old, musty feather pillow from a stack of bedding. "Show me with this and I will tell you what I have in mind."

Jim lay the pillow on the couch next to the woolybugger, much as he did the piece of paper. He stood back and cried-"woolybugger this pillow." The hair on its back stood upright, the claws sprang out, and the fangs appeared, already gnashing in the air. In less than a minute, feathers filled the air as the pillow was reduced to rubble. The woolybugger curled up as a fur ball in the corner of the couch. Jim brought over a fancy velvet-lined cage. Placing the woolybugger in the cage, he closed the top and placed it at Sue's feet.

Sue stood there with a broad smile on her face. "I must have this on loan and here is why. Tomorrow is Saturday and my husband will sit on his couch drinking beer and watching the game on TV. Before the game starts, I will remove the woolybugger from the cage and place on the couch next to where my husband always sits. He is a man of habit. When he notices the ball of fur, he will ask me what the hell it is. I will say, of course, that it is a woolybugger."

My dear husband will look at me with disgust and say, "woolybugger my ass."