Dinner at Eight

The Inquery

The weapon in my hands seemed to become heavier each second that it remained above my head. Ernesto's eyes gazed up to look at the object I intended to use as a defense against his impending attack. Noticing the bloody hook that was still in his grasp, I felt a surge of confidence that I could take the old man. A hook against an iron poker? Poker wins every time.

"David!"

The voice shouting my name was unexpected. It hadn't come from Ernesto. It was female and seemed to be coming from the hallway. Keeping my defensive stance, I stole a glance towards the voice.

Shane was standing there. I was so relieved to see her that my first instinct was to run over to her and hold her in my arms. However, reason took over and I chose to stay where I was, not allowing her grandfather's hook to gain an advantage.

"What are you doing?" Shane shouted. She had a look of horror on her face, but instead of asking her psychotic grandfather, her question was directed at me.

I was confused.

"What do you mean, what am I doing? What about him, with the bloody hook and sack of horrors?" I gestured to Ernesto, while still holding the poker over my head.

"David, put that down. You're going to hurt someone, or ruin that antique walking stick" Shane demanded.

For the first time, I looked at whatever it was I had grabbed. Sure enough it was a cane of some sort, made of steel, not iron, and etched with intricate designs. Eh, it would have gotten the job done.

"I told you you should have been taking notes on that tour." she crossed her arms over her chest.

What was she talking about? Who cared if I didn't remember anything about the damn cane? I was trying to stay alive!

She must have noticed the look on my face, the one that said, what the hell?, because the next words out of her mouth took my breath away.

"It's a family tradition that when we have a special guest, grandfather captures and butchers a wild boar from our land. That's why he left the tour early."

Oh. A dead boar. That must've been what was in the bag.

I opened my mouth to reply, but what could I have seriously said at that point? Now I looked like the psycho.

I closed my mouth and looked back at Ernesto, after lowering the steel cane. He looked back at me with a smirk.

"You thought I was trying to kill you?" He half laughed as he said it. "Not the first time that's happened. This place can really wreak havoc in your mind. I try to stay outdoors as much as possible. My wife should really do the same, she's too stuffy"

My eyes were wide, staring at Ernesto and then back over to Shane. What now? I had made the worst first impression in the history of first impressions. How could I possibly recover from trying to bludgeon her grandfather to death?

"Um...sorry" that should do it. Sh*t.

Ernesto patted my shoulder in condolence.
"Don't fret about it" he glanced over at Shane, "besides, I'm not the one you need to worry about"

He took his bloody hook and headed back down the hall toward his bag-o-boar, then continued to drag it into what must have been the kitchen.

I took a deep breath and forced my eyes back over to Shane. I immediately wished I hadn't. She looked pretty pissed.

"I leave you for twenty minutes and the next thing I know you're trying to attack my grandfather. What were you thinking, David?" She accused.

I leaned the cane against the nearest couch and walked over to where she stood.