The Goat That Knelt

A maneating old goat up on the mountain had become some kind of demon. Or so people in town said.

I always figured they were only afraid something would happen to the only girl in town, and were trying to scare me on purpose.

Then I snuck up the mountain to pick grapes, and that bloodeyed old goat blocked my path. But instead of lunging at me, it knelt down to me.

Chapter 1 It was less than two feet away from me. A huge mouth, full of fangs, scraps of meat still stuck between its teeth. The smell of blood hit my face like something solid.

Its horizontal pupils stared straight at me as it crept toward me on its knees, low to the ground.

I was so scared I nearly wet myself, and I scrambled and stumbled all the way home. I screamed for help the whole way.

Ma saw the terror on my face and hurried out to meet me. "Where've you been running wild this time, girl?

The wind's chapped your face raw." "A goat—a goat wants to eat me." I told her what had just happened.

Her face changed at once, and she grabbed my arm. "You… you went up the mountain? Did the old goat kneel to you? Once that beast kneels to somebody, it has to eat them.

It'll die before it gives up. "Years back, the old goat knelt to Mrs. Sturgill's boy next door, and that same night it dragged him to the edge of town and ate him.

It hung all the leftover bones and skin up in that big tree at the edge of town. "Mrs.

Sturgill went out for water first thing the next morning—said she was going to give her baby a bath—looked up, and saw it.

She lost her mind right there." Ma paced in circles all over the floor as she talked. I was shaking all over, and the tears came down on their own. "What do we do, Ma?

I'm scared…" Pa had been outside chopping wood. He came running at the noise, and once Ma told him the whole story, his face went dark too.

He raised his hand to smack me, but in the end he let it drop heavily. "Forget it. Our Lettie'll be grown before long.

We'll just keep a closer watch for a while. "You hide Lettie good, and hide yourself too. I'll go get some folks from town to help.

I don't believe that old thing's all that tough." By the time they were done talking, it was already dark. Pa took a flashlight and a hatchet and strode off.

Ma searched all over the house. Finally she gritted her teeth, shoved me into the firebox of the old brick stove, and went into the other room to hide herself.

She said the old goat's horns were too long for it to get into the firebox, and it couldn't bite through the big iron pot set into the stovetop either.

If I could hold out till Pa came back with the men, I'd be fine. Outside, the sky got darker and darker. Nobody had lit a lamp in the house.

I was curled up in the pitchblack firebox, unable to move. Before long my whole body went numb, and my mouth was full of choking wood ash.

The town usually came alive at night, but tonight it was strangely quiet. All I could hear was the wind howling past outside.

Every muscle in me was clenched tight, and every second dragged on and on.

The clock on the wall chimed again and again, but Pa never came back, and Ma never came to check on me again. I tried calling her a few times, but I never got an answer.

The clock chimed again—twelve full strokes. Ma had said the old goat only ate people before midnight. Once midnight passed, it wouldn't come.

Just as I let out a breath, thinking I'd made it, there came a dull thud, thud at the door. Like someone kicking it. I jolted, squeezed my eyes shut, and held my breath.

Chapter 2 The pounding got louder and louder, and fear filled me up. Then, with a bang, the door was ripped clean off by some tremendous force.

Our door had been replaced only a few years back. It was heavy and solid—no person could ever have broken it down.

Sure enough, a moment later that stench of blood hit my nose, and along with it came the sound of hooves on the floor. It was the old goat. I quietly opened my eyes.

In the moonlight, I saw four long, thin legs pacing back and forth in front of the firebox opening. It seemed angry that it couldn't find me.

It paced faster and faster, and its breathing got rougher and rougher. Somehow one of its breaths blew into the firebox and stirred up ash that went right up my nose.

I couldn't hold it in. I sneezed, hard. The goat rammed its head into the firebox. Even with its horns catching on the opening, it was no more than eight inches from me!

Our eyes met. It split its mouth open and gave me an eerie grin, then stuck out its tongue and gave my face one hard lick. The smell of blood hit me.

I let out a shrill scream and pressed myself back as far as I could go. It pushed forward hard too, and several times its fangs nearly caught me.

Luckily I was limber, and the stove was sturdy enough. It couldn't reach me, and it backed out, snorting and huffing.

I cried without making a sound, trying to calm my heart, which was pounding like crazy. Then light broke over my head, and all at once the weight on me was gone. I looked up.

The pot that had been pressing down on me had been lifted off the stove. What had raised the big iron pot was a pair of goat hooves.

It stared at me, a nasty grin on its goat face, like it was saying it had just been toying with me all along.

It lifted the iron pot off and, with no effort at all, plucked me out of the firebox with its teeth. My whole body had gone limp. I couldn't find the strength to run.

All I could do was let it do what it wanted with me. Soon the old goat dropped me by the woodpile. The wood was stacked high behind me, and I'd been propped up so I was standing.

Suddenly I remembered what Ma had said: before the old goat ate a person, it split them open, pulled out their insides, and threw them away, or else it found them too dirty.

The way I was standing—wasn't that just making its next step easier? I felt my bladder about to let go, and my pounding heart made my head throb with pain.

My legs gave out, and I dropped to my knees with a thud. The old goat had been ready to strike, but once I knelt, it froze where it stood.

Its dark horizontal pupils flickered with some strange, complicated look. At first glance, it was almost human.

Right then, a commotion broke out outside. "Son of a bitch, that old thing's slippery. Led us around in circles half the night.

I'm dead on my feet." "Either way, it means the beast's still scared of people." It was Pa, back with the men from town.

Their flashlight beams came together and lit up even the inside of our house. The old goat stared at me a moment longer.

When Pa opened the door, it crashed through our window without a second's hesitation and escaped.

As I came back to myself from that enormous terror, everything went black, and I passed out cold. When I opened my eyes again, the people from town were all gathered around me.

Ma sat on the edge of the bed, her face streaming with tears. Seeing I was awake, everyone started comforting me at once. "Don't be scared, Lettie. You're the only girl in our town.

We'll keep you safe, every one of us." "That's right. We've got plenty of young fellas in town, and that old beast's scared of crowds.

Worst case, we'll all take turns staying at your place, and it won't dare come." By now Ma had finally calmed down some and could get words out. Chapter 3 "Thank you, everybody.

How about once it's light, we send Lettie to the city for a while? "My heart just can't take another night like that." When she finished, the room went eerily quiet. Mr.

Tackett, who'd always been good to me, frowned and looked at Pa. "Sending her to the city's not safe, is it? Wouldn't you say?" Pa was silent for a moment. "We can't send her.

It's not safe. We'll do like everybody said and take turns keeping watch. It won't be much longer." I'd had too big a scare.

All I felt now was cold all over, and my eyelids were heavy. I hadn't worked out why Mr. Tackett said the old goat was scared of crowds, and then said the city wasn't safe.

And before I could ask Pa what he meant when he said it wouldn't be much longer, I drifted off to sleep. When I woke up again, it was broad daylight.

The men from town had all left, and the house was dead quiet. I crawled out from under the covers to go to the bathroom.

Just as I was getting out of bed, I felt something hard in my palm: a rolledup slip of paper.

It was newspaper, rolled very thin and very tight, like whoever did it was afraid someone else would find it. Ma was right beside me, sleeping hard.

I don't know what came over me, but I just knew nobody could find out about this. I turned my body a little and carefully unrolled the slip.

On it were a few big words: "Only the city will keep you alive." My heart clenched hard. The handwriting was neat and delicate.

It didn't look like anything those big, rough men in town could write. Without a sound, I tucked the slip into my pocket. Then I woke Ma.

Ma heard me, opened her eyes, and looked at me with concern. I thought about what the slip had just told me, and then about the silent, determined look in Mr.

Tackett's and Pa's eyes last night, and I shivered. Tears of hurt and fear welled up in my eyes, and I buried myself in Ma's arms, whimpering over and over. "Ma, I'm scared!

I want to go to the city. It's too dangerous here. Am I gonna die?" When Ma heard that, her face looked even worse than mine, and she snapped fiercely. "No way. You're my girl.

I will never let anything happen to you." I didn't say anything. I just cried and cried, until finally Ma's heart softened and she had to go talk it over with Pa.

The two of them muttered back and forth for a good while before Pa finally gave in. He gave me a long, heavy look, then silently started packing.

By the time we set out, for no reason at all, the clear weather outside had suddenly turned to thick fog. In all my life, I'd never seen fog that thick.

Pa drove our mule cart along the wide concrete road. I looked around curiously, but I couldn't see even two yards.

And right then, a strange sound of hooves started up not far behind me. The hair on my scalp stood straight up. I knew that sound all too well. It was the old goat from last night.

The hooves went clack, clack, clack, like they were striking my heart. Terrified, I grabbed the hem of Pa's shirt. "Pa! It's the old goat!

It's come for me again!" Pa's face changed right then, and he swore under his breath. "Shit! It's daytime, ain't it?

How can it still find us?" Then he cracked the whip hard, and the old mule let out a low, heavy bray. It took off running.

I got jostled around in the back till my head was spinning, but fear kept my eyes locked on the back of the cart.

Chapter 4 There in the thick fog, a pair of bloodred eyes floated in midair like light bulbs.

I rubbed my eyes and looked closer, and only then did I see that the old goat had lifted both front legs and was walking upright on its two hind legs, like a person.

Its hooves beat out a rapid clackclackclack. But then the old mule up front suddenly stopped. The whole animal went stiff and stood there, not moving at all. Pa went stiff too.

Even his lips were trembling. Only then did I realize that the old goat, which had been behind us, had somehow appeared right in front of the old mule.

I screamed and nearly wet myself, and I froze where I was, too scared to move a muscle. But Pa had much steadier nerves than I did.

Once he snapped out of it, he grabbed my arm and yanked me off the cart. He left the cart behind and dragged me back the way we'd come, running for dear life.

Behind us came the old mule's shrill cry, but an instant later, there was no sound at all.

Sweat was pouring down Pa's forehead, and my heart felt like it was about to jump out of my throat.

Because behind us that familiar clacking had started up again, and it was closing in fast. We ran as hard as we could through the fog, toward home as best we remembered it.

At last we made it into town, and the fog, so thick you couldn't see your hand in front of your face, suddenly pulled back. The clacking behind us simply vanished.

Everything that had just happened seemed like a hallucination. Like it had only been there to stop me from leaving town.

My heart hadn't even settled before I saw the men in town all looking at us strangely. "Why're you back? Weren't you leaving?" Pa's face was grim as he explained. "Don't even ask.

We ran into that old goat again on the road!" The men's faces changed a few times before finally settling into a grim, ashen gray. "Something happened in town while you were gone." From their talk, I learned something even more terrible.

Someone in town had actually died. The old mayor's face darkened a little. "If you ran into the old goat, then who killed the one who died in town?" Mr.

Tackett, beside him, was deathly pale, because the one who'd died was his youngest boy, the apple of his eye. His eyes were bloodshot, his teeth clenched tight