Plausible Deniability

A flash of light suddenly filled the windowpane. My heart jumped into my throat. Was that the face of Jason I saw in that flash of light?
“Come on now, Pete, just because you saw “Friday the 13th” last night doesn’t mean Jason is real. This has got to be a dream. Get yourself together!”
I press my face against the windowpane to get a better look at what’s outside. A longer look this time reveals a different eerie scene. The moon is absent in the night sky. The clouds look heavy and ominous. The wind is gusting. The trees appear to be stretching their limbs at a 45-degree angle. I can hear drops of water splatting against the window screen.
The good news is, I saw no Jason, or anything human, animal, or monster looking. It’s just a bad storm so, obviously, I’m not dreaming.
Off in the distance, I see a faint lightning bolt.
Suddenly, I hear what sounds like fingernails scraping across a chalkboard. The thought momentarily crept back in. ‘Jason!!’
Another look: I see the same moonless sky and tree branches still bending in the gusting wind. I can’t see the source of the scratching, though. That means a trip outside to get a closer look.
I grab my raincoat from the closet, find my old pair of slip-on shoes, and head out to the back porch and into the chilly air.
There it is again — scratching… and the tapping… and the sound of a dog barking, perhaps more like a whimper.
Without thinking, I searched for the spot where I buried our dog. I buried Sandy out there last year. Is she still in her grave?
“Cheez, Pete! What’s the matter with you? I know it’s the day after Halloween, but this is stupid.”
Another flash of light! A little closer this time. Every hair on my body feels charged with electricity. My body is tingling. Is it from the electrically charged air or from anticipation of what I fear may be coming in the next few seconds?
Another brief splash of light reveals that nothing has changed. There’s still no moon. Those clouds are still huge ominous puffs in the sky. The raindrops aren’t as big as I thought, though. There are just millions of them hitting the ground. It looks like a lake out there. The raindrops appear to be coming straight down like the blade of a guillotine.
The words, “It was a dark and stormy night” popped into my mind. Is this what the author of those words wants his readers to actually feel?
There are those noises again.
“The metal shed. It’s in the backyard. That must be the source of the scratchy sound.”
Standing on the edge of the porch didn’t help me see it. So, I stick my uncovered head out from under the cover of the porch and look toward the shed.
Another flash of lightning!
“Ow! Ow! Ow! Why didn’t I think about how much a million drops of rain hitting my head would hurt?”
The brief look gives me enough of an opportunity to survey the terrain.
The large oak tree next to the shed is now covering the metal building. It was old and needed to be cut down, anyway. “What a relief that is! I don’t have to deal with it until daylight. Case solved.”
But what about that barking dog?
Reluctantly, I pull my raincoat tighter and head out into the rain toward the sound of the dog. The water from the newly formed lake covers my shoes. My pajama bottoms immediately stick to my legs. The rain pelts my head. It feels like being stung by a swarm of bees. I should go back inside. But yet, “That dog?...... Hope I don’t regret this!”
Through the flash of lightning, I see it. It’s obviously soaked to the bone, and struggling to get out of the arms of its captor. As I reach for the nearest branch to pull it away, the dog found the escape hole and scampered away. Apparently, my assistance wasn’t even needed.
I had risked my life, limb, and the threat of Jason to rescue that dog. No grateful attitude, no thank yous, nothing. NOPE! He just ran away and didn’t even look back.
I should be happy about that. But after all I just went through; it sure would be nice to tell the story of how I heroically rescued a wounded animal in the middle of a dangerous thunderstorm.
Now all I have to look forward to is going back into the house and try to give my wife some plausible story as to why I’m so wet.