The Gnome

Stuart Purcell shook his head. He hated this part of the job. People these days just didn’t want sales teams knocking on their door trying to sell them things. Every couple of weeks his manager would get this big idea that they should ‘hit the streets’ and drum up new business. And yet again he was encountering another person angry on their doorstep, furious at being disturbed.

‘Forget it mate, I’m not interested.’ The guy grumbled.

‘Thank you for your time.’ Stuart forced a smile.

The guy jabbed a finger in Stuart’s direction.

‘You lot make me sick.’

Stuart also felt sick. He regretted selecting calling on this house. The creepy garden gnome at the end of the path should have been enough of a warning. The little character was just disturbing. The pale blue hat sat on top of a sinister face with a smile that would have looked more in place on a Halloween mask than a garden gnome.

‘Sorry to disturb you. I won’t keep you any further.’ Stuart backed away down the path, clutching his briefcase.

The guy hurled a barrage of abuse at Stuart. The salesman was shocked by the venom of the attack. He was completely over-reacting. All Stuart had done was ask if he was interested in taking a look at his samples. He was expecting disinterest, or a door-slam, but not a mouthful of swear words.

‘Alright mate, calm down.’

‘Who are you telling to calm down?’

The volley of swearing intensified. Stuart headed quickly down the path. He was fuming. There was just no need for this abuse. Anger bubbled up in him. As he reached the gate Stuart turned. He kicked the creepy garden gnome. The three-foot gnome span through the air. It spun head over boots before coming smashing down on the path. The figure burst into countless number of pieces. It shattered like a glass vase. The anger left Stuart as quickly as it had descended. Before he could apologise the guy simply grinned. As he closed the door Stuart could have sworn he saw the man punch the air.

He decided to try the next street.

The afternoon was less eventful, if no more successful. He hadn’t made one single sale. He had managed to palm off a few business cards on people who said they may be in touch.

He headed back to the car as darkness was falling. The streetlights were bathing everything in the orange glow of an energy drink. He climbed in the car, tossing his briefcase into the passenger seat next to him. He started the engine. As he pulled out and steered the car out into the traffic he glanced in the rear view mirror. For a split second he thought he saw something in the road. Then it was gone, as though washed away by the sweeping of the next car’s headlights. Had he not been focused on driving, he may have realised what the item was, instead his attention was concentrated on the road in front of him.

As he headed home along the busy motorway his eyes wandered upward to the footbridge overhead. There was something perched on the handrail. Was that? Surely not? Bathed in the orange glow of the motorway lights was a garden gnome. The creepy thing had a pale blue hat and a sinister grin. He recognised it immediately. A second later Stuart had driven on and the thing was out of view. How strange, though. It was the gnome he’d kicked over earlier. His mind must have been playing tricks on him. He turned the radio up and put it out of his mind.

He headed off the main road and pulled into the side street he lived on. He slowed and came to a stop a moment later. There was something in the road. He recognised it instantly. It was the garden gnome. The horrid little character was framed in his headlight beam. It seemed to be grinning even more than it had been previously. The thing seemed to be mocking him. Stuart swore. This was getting really sinister. What was going on? It was definitely same spooky gnome. He slammed on the accelerator. With screeching tyres he sped forward. He laughed as the gnome was smashed under his car bumper. He sighed. What a strange day it had been.

Minutes later he pulled up outside his house. He locked his car and crossed the road. He was heading up the path and debating what food to get sent in when he saw it. Standing in the middle of the path up to his front door was the little gnome with the blue hat. Its grin was even more twisted and mocking. No way. What was happening? Was he dreaming, hallucinating? He leaped over the figure and quickly let himself in the door without looking back.

Despite the absurdity of the situation he felt himself start to panic. He felt dizzy. How could something as petty as a garden gnome unsettle him? But it was just so weird. The thing seemed to be haunting, taunting, mocking him. He needed a drink. He went through to the kitchen. He poured himself a large measure of whiskey. Still leaning on the worktop, he took a sip of whiskey. He sighed. He glanced out the window. No, surely not. The gnome was in his back garden, facing him, grinning. The rest of his garden was covered in darkness but bizarrely the gnome was perfectly framed in a bright light. He turned away and took another gulp of whiskey. In the living room he drew the curtains and switched the TV on. He concentrated on the documentary on screen. He tried not to think about the gnome. It just couldn’t have been happening. He must have been imagining it.

An hour or so later he called for a take away. A 12 inch Meat Feast pizza would sort him right out. It was just before nine o’clock when the knock came at the door. He punched the air. There was nothing as exciting as your take away food arriving. It was like the adult version of Christmas morning. He grabbed his wallet and went to the door.

The young man in the pizza chain uniform grunted at him. What was wrong with people these days? Where had the customer service gone? He was sure years ago you got better service. Staff seemed happy to be serving you, whether it was a shop, a restaurant, even the cinema. These days you were made to feel as though you were inconveniencing the staff. He handed over a ten pound note and took the pizza box.

‘Call that a tip?’ He muttered.

Stuart glanced to the gnome grinning from just by the font door. A thought occurred to him.

‘If you don’t like it you can shove it.’

Stuart swore and curse and bawled at the delivery guy. He screamed and yelled and shouted and called him names. He really went to town.

‘Oh yeah? You reckon, big man?’

The delivery guy turned. He picked up the garden gnome and sent it smashing to the path.

‘Cheers mate.’ Stuart grinned. He closed the door. He glanced out the kitchen window. Sure enough, the gnome had gone. He had a feeling that every house the pizza guy delivered to would have a strange gnome perched on their doorstep.

By Chris Platt

From: United Kingdom