The demise of the Faith Part 2

“My garage! We’ll take her to my garage.” She put the truck in gear.

“Don’t you want to check this out with Jack, first?” Jack is Betty’s husband.

“Out of town till Monday. Chicago. Sales convention. He’ll never know.”

“I don’t know, Betty, this sounds…”

“OK, Ok, but I know. Don’t worry about it. I’ve got this.”

Betty backed up the trailer up the drive way to the garage. Olga whined about backing down the trailer ramp. Once in the garage she snorted and jerked in agitated disorientation. Betty and Phil tried speaking in soft tones to calm her but she detected a tension in their voices and began to stomp.

“Play Mahler.” Said Better. Phil brought in the boom box and turned it on. This Rhino always found Gustav Mahler’s Eighth Symphony calming, but this time she would have none of it.

“We’ll have to take her inside.” Said Betty.

“Now we getting into crazy territory,” warned Phil as he rolled up the garage door. Betty leashed the animal and gave a tug. Olga felt some comfort in Betty’s act of control, and followed her matron. Around the side of the house, onto the back yard patio and through the double doors into the dinning room. Olga continued to grunt and whine as Betty led her through the house. As they entered the living room, she suddenly quieted and seemed to sigh.

I’ll stay with her, Phil. You bring in the hay" she looked at the newly finished hardwood floors, "and the canvas tarp." she added.

As the Rhino munched away on the sweet fresh hay, Phil put the Mahler CD in the living room stereo. After a few minutes Betty whispered, “You can go now, I’ll sleep on the couch. See you at six AM.”

At two AM Jack Denski’s cab pulled up in front of his house. He thought it would be a great idea to surprise his wife, so he had left the convention early. Standing in the dark between two suit cases on the front porch he fumbled with his keys. He turned the latch, pushed the door open quietly and bent down to pick up his bags. Before he lifted them, he looked into the dark house and froze. His breath stopped. The was a rhinoceros in the living room. He released his grip in the luggage and slowly closed the door. He stood up and shook his head, pinched the bridge of his nose, then wiped his hand over his face from forehead to chin. Slowly he reached out and opened the door slightly. Yes. There was a rhinoceros in the living room. He gingerly closed the door, and pulled his phone from his pocket.