Hell Hound

HELL HOUND ?

Christopher Blackwood the headmaster of Bramly Dale High School sat
awkwardly. He was making an effort to scratch his stomach while he was
waiting to see Doctor Ewan Evans MD. This wouldn't have seemed quite so
bad if his scratching had been done in private. Certainly the doctors
waiting room full of patients could hardly be described as private. Nor
would it have seemed so offensive if Blackwood had been attempting the
scratching operation with his right hand instead of his right
foot.
After two minutes clawing at his tummy he satisfied the itch then
sniffed the leather seat and circled it a couple of times before
squatting on it. He gazed dolefully at the silent, horrified people, as
they clustered as far away from him as possible within the confines of
the small waiting room.
Blackwood had been in the surgery's reception area for ten minutes
before the itch had brought about the public scratching event. During
those ten minutes he had in turn sniffed, whimpered and attempted to
lick himself in some very odd places. All to the embarrassment of the
other patients, most of whom knew who he was and what position he held.
At one point he had begun to lift his leg at an umbrella stand. An
anxious gasp, followed by a tut tut from a panic stricken elderly lady
had stayed further movement of the offending leg, or any further motion
that may have ensued.
Following each of the bizarre actions Christopher had looked
embarrassed and then composed himself for a short while before
continuing again with some other aspect of his very peculiar
behaviour.
The light flashed and buzzer sounded summoning the first patient to
the consulting room. Before anyone else could answer the signal however
Christopher dived towards the door, turned and howled at the light and
buzzer that had startled him. He then stared at the source of the
clamour in anticipation, cocked his head to one side, and began to wag
his backside like an agitated limbo dancer with fleas. Pulling herself
together the woman who was rightfully first in turn to see the doctor,
rose and began to walk towards the door. Low growls from Christopher
however persuaded her to return to her seat.
Doctor Evans having heard the howls from the waiting room opened the
door and was greeted by the excited principal bounding towards him and
licking his face. "Down Christopher down!" Screamed the physician,
wiping his cheek with a handkerchief. "I take it that you're first then
Mr. Blackwood. I'm touched by your greeting, but steady on with the
slobbering old chap. It might be misconstrued. Besides which we're not
even good friends."
The woman who should have been first in turn began to protest to
Doctor Evans, but an inhuman, curled lip snarl from Christopher
silenced her. Ewan Evans had known the normally pompous Christopher
Blackwood as a patient ever since he'd arrived in Bramly Dale twenty
years earlier. Blackwood had moved to the area at that time to take up
the position of form master. He had only treat Blackwood on three
occasions during that time, and in each case only for minor
ailments.
Since Christopher was promoted from form master to head teacher ten
years earlier, Evans had treat two of Blackwood's' staff and several of
his pupils for nervous disorders. Evans had gleaned from his patients
that the main reason for both teachers and the pupils' symptoms was
Christopher Blackwood. He'd learned from them that the headmaster
behaved like a blackboard Captain Bligh, who spread fear, dread and
despondency among staff and students alike due to his tyrannical
regime.
"Well what can I do for you Mr. Blackwood?" Evans enquired when they
were both seated. Christopher cocked his head to one side and issued a
cur like whimper, and it took him some time to reply to the question.
When he did answer, his speech was interspersed with barks, moans,
yelps, snarls and wails. Ewan noticed that the headmaster had to make a
supreme effort of concentration to merely outline his affliction.
He told the physician how it had all started with the end of term
school concert two weeks previously. Several of his students and staff
had gone through their trite party pieces, and received the usual
ardent response from the audience. There had however been one new act,
which had been acclaimed as the highlight of the show. This was the one
performed by Al Spirer an upper sixth pupil.
Doctor Evans recognised the young mans' unusual name as that of a
student who he had treat for anxiety. Al was introduced to
self-hypnosis as part of the successful therapy that had cured his
nervous tension. Having found the subject interesting Spirer had
studied hypnotism eagerly, and became quite adept at its application.
He developed an entertaining stage act from his unusual hobby an act
that would bring him fame and fortune in later years.
Spirer had presented his hypnotic skills at the concert and it was
this act that brought the house down. Christopher told how he'd been
sceptical about mesmerism. At the start of his performance Al asked
everyone in the audience to clasp their hands tightly over their heads.
When he noticed that the headmaster wasn't joining in he cajoled him
into taking part, albeit reluctantly. After several minutes Blackwood
found it absolutely impossible to separate his two clenched hands, the
more he struggled the tighter and tighter they became. This confirmed
to the young hypnotist that the principal was a potentially good
hypnotic subject.
Blackwood was obliged to go up on to the stage to have his hands set
freed. Once on the platform there was no doubt that the head-teacher
was under his pupil's spell. The unwilling subject was obliged to carry
out the most humiliating but very entertaining parodies in front of his
subordinates. He was urged to imagine that he was a tree while another
subject was made to act like a dog with a weak bladder. Following a
comical ten minutes the roles of tree and dog were reversed.
When he'd performed for almost an hour on the stage Blackwood was
roused from his stupor. He was shocked to find himself on all fours
with one leg cocked in the air. He was mortified to see his whole
school, staff, students and even their parents all obviously laughing
at him.
Humiliated the principal stumbled from the platform with the raucous
laughter ringing in his ears. He was oblivious to Al Spirer shouting
that he had not fully released him from his induced trance. Mr.
Blackwood raced home as fast as he could to escape the ribald calls. At
his bachelor home the head locked the door and howled like a
constipated timber wolf with a bad case of haemorrhoids.
Early the following morning Christopher felt strange. He looked at
himself in the bathroom mirror and saw that coarse hair was sprouting
above his shaving line. His nose appeared darker. He felt it and found
it damp. He'd always enjoyed good health. Blackwood shaved the excess
hair off his face, got himself dressed and went for a walk in the park
to mull things over.
Within twenty minutes he'd returned home drenched, resulting from
retrieving a stick that had been thrown into the lake by a small boy.
When he had bathed and shook himself dry he tried to contact Spirer on
the phone. Al's parents informed him that their son had set out at
first light on a four week hiking tour of Europe. Forlorn, Christopher
bolted his door against the cruel world outside and never left the
house except to relieve him self in the garden. After two weeks he
plucked up enough courage to pay a visit to his doctor.
Ewan who had sat absorbed listening to his patient's sorry tale gave
the headmaster a thorough examination, even using an anal thermometer
to check his temperature in the process. Following the check up he
began writing rapidly. Only stopping twice to throw Christopher a
biscuit. Blackwood found it hard to constrain himself because it seemed
to take the doctor an age to write the letter and put it into an
envelope. Which he placed it his very hairy, eagerly, outstretched
hands. "You're sending me to see a specialist? Oh good I'll be cured.
Thank you?Bow-wow? Thank you!" Yelped Christopher showing his gratitude
by nuzzling Ewans' shoulder. Before the doctor had finished explaining
his prognosis, Christopher ran off, wagging his backside and clutching
the letter.
A few minutes after the headmaster had left Doctor Evans heard a
doleful canine howl. The howl was like that of a melancholy coyote
suffering from chronic depression. The noise was coming from outside
the surgery. He rushed out and picked up the envelope that he had given
to Blackwood earlier. Evans found it lying beside Christopher's'
discarded clothing that was scattered around the otherwise empty
pavement. The opened letter was plainly addressed to MR. JAMES HERRIOT,
FELLOW OF THE INSTITUTE OF VETERINARY SURGEONS.
That was the last time anyone saw the man Christopher Blackwood

by Don Passmore. ?