Bumble
Horror Flash Fiction
Matt stood in his driveway, the setting sun cast the trees across the street in a dark silhouette. He yawned and called the cat again. He hated to leave the old tabby out all night, but he also didn’t want to stand out here calling for it like an idiot for an hour. Maybe just a few minutes longer, he thought. The sun hadn’t quite set yet. Down the street the Milovich kids were playing basketball on a portable hoop, the youngest waved. Matt waved back. His own kids were inside helping his wife with dinner. The family was hand making all their own wheat free tortillas these days. Cooking on a Paleolithic diet could be a bit labor intensive, but it was good for the kids to learn new skills and it was much healthier. Since his wife had first mentioned it a few months ago, Matt had embraced ‘eating like a caveman.’ He woke up every day feeling like a lean mean hunter, driven by the enduring stamina of survivalism. He didn’t look like a lean hunter, but it had only been a few months.
“Bumble!” He called again. The kids had named the cat, Matt would have chosen something a little less humiliating for both of them. Around the corner the sound of a rough engine caught his attention and he looked to see a beat up white pickup driving toward him. He watched, it wasn’t a neighbor, but then, he didn’t know everybody. The truck sputtered up the street. One headlight was out and he couldn’t make out the driver.
As it got closer he could see two large freezers chained into the bed. He huffed, that kind of noise one makes when a thing is simultaneously curious and off putting. The driver slowed as he reached Matt’s driveway and he could see the words “Fresh Meat” painted in black along the bed of the truck. He looked up at the driver, a trim older man in glasses. The truck slowed to a stop and the window came down.
“Ya interested?” The driver shouted to Matt. Matt trotted down the driveway and leaned am arm on the open window. The cab was clean, old, but clean. From close up he could see that the man was wearing a simple white t-shirt and jeans. He noticed a red splotch on the hem of the t-shirt and couldn’t suppress a shiver.
“I guess that depends on what you’re selling,” Matt quipped. The man smiled and put the truck in park.
“Well, what I’ve got for you is the cleanest, freshest meat a city dweller like you is ever gonna find. There is no better meat than the meat in those freezers back there.” He hooked his thumb behind him. “I have gone though the trouble of getting permits and ass-kissing all my damn neighbors to give suburbanites a thing they’ve never truly experienced,” he paused, “fresh meat. This meat was slaughtered this morning by me, spent the day cutting it off the bone myself, now I’m delivering it just in time for dinner. No better way to eat meat than if you just hunted it yourself. Know what gave me the idea?”
Matt shook his head.
“That caveman diet! I thought to myself, now how are city folk ever gonna be able to eat like caveman with all the industrialized meat flooding the market? They can’t! It’s not right! Then I had this idea, Fresh Meat.” He waited, Matt stopped nodding along.
“Just started that diet. Shopping for it can be expensive,” he drummed his fingers against the truck’s interior, “Sold much?” Matt noticed more blood spatter on the man’s jeans. But he supposed butchery was bound to be bloody work.
“Sold half a truck full, maybe you noticed the old thing limping along a bit,” the man slapped the dashboard and laughed. “Gonna need a bigger truck soon. Working on a logo, too.”
“How do I know it’s sanitary?”
“Well, you can always check me out with the local chapter of the FDA. But, I also drive around with these in case I need to convince any germaphobes out there.” With smirk he popped open the glove box and pulled out some paperwork and a certificate. He waved them around in front of Matt’s face. There was a stamp on one that said certified and some signatures. Matt nodded his approval.
“Well, what kind of meat is it?”
“Clean meat, that’s what kind. No antibiotics, no growth hormones, no pink slime, no heavy metals, nothing. It’s just meat.”
“Huh, well, I gotta tell you, I like what you’re saying.” Matt stepped back and gestured to the freezers in the back of the truck. “Why shouldn’t we get fresh meat here in the suburbs? We try to live a healthy lifestyle, but, hell, the deck’s stacked against us here in the city.”
“I hear ya, I hear ya. You are riding my wavelength. So how many in your family?”
“Four.”
“Good, good!” The old man hopped out of the truck and went around the back. Matt followed and stood back as the man let the tailgate down with a bang. He jumped up into the bed and opened one of the freezers. The door creaked open and the man’s head disappeared inside before he and came out with four bundles wrapped in brown paper. With a sly look he thumbed a dispenser on his belt and pulled out a bag for the meat.
“That’ll be fifteen dollars.” He beamed.
“Not bad,” said Matt as he dug in his pocket for cash.
“Thank you kindly, sir,” said the old man. “Hope to see you tomorrow.”
“You as well, it’s a fine thing you’re doing.” Matt returned to his driveway and watched as the man drove off.
“Bumble!” He yelled one more time. The cat didn’t show.
“Guess you’re sleeping outside,” he muttered, then turned back to the house.
“Hey, honey,” he called, “look what I got.”
A quick note: This story was inspired in part by true events. The truck in the story did drive by my house one night while I was out calling my cat, Old Man. I didn’t buy any meat, though, and my cat lived to the very Old Man age of 21 before dying of natural causes.
So good! 🙀
Had a guy come to my door once selling steaks. 🥩 His opening pitch was, “You aren’t a vegetarian are you?” He was way bummed when I said I was vegan.
totally loved this. i could see everything!