Word: Ineluctable

     

ineluctable

[in-i-luhk-tuh-buh l]

adjective

1. incapable of being evaded; inescapable: an ineluctable destiny.

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         Jess’ heart raced and her lungs screamed for air as she ran through the dark, dingy corridor.  She scrambled to find an open door.  Or at least one that wasn’t unlocked.  So far, all that was left was to scramble and run through the hall.

               “You can’t run forever!” Shouted the man.

               Jess risked a glance over her shoulder at the sound.  She was faster than the large man, so she had been able to stay out of sight of his greasy, pockmarked form.  But that also meant she would tire much faster than him, even if he was a disgusting sack of lard.

               “I’ll get you eventually.” He called. 

               She heard his footsteps creaking on the old wood.  Jess knew she needed to rest, but doing so would only invite disaster by giving her captor time to catch up.  No, she needed to keep going.  For the first time in her life, she regretted not joining the track team way back in high school.  Maybe then she would have a little more stamina.  She was already on her third wind.

               “It’s inevitable, really.  Why make this harder than it needs to be?”

               She would not waste breath answering.  She was too focused on running and checking doors.  The hall was mostly straight, with only the occasional corner to break it up.  Had she not been so focused on putting one foot in front of the other, she would have wondered how such a thing was possible.  The turns were not all in the same direction, so she knew it was not one big square.  But it seemed far too long to be in any building she knew of.  As it was, her mind was occupied with not getting caught.

               “I can make this fun for both of us, you know.”

               She paused to check a door, fully expecting it to be locked, just like all the others.  Much to her surprise, it opened with the creak of old wood.  Jess paused for a moment.  She could go in, but the sound made it obvious where she was.  No, now was the time for guile.  She closed the door, attempting to be quiet about it.  Then she moved on, moving slower and softer.  She even forced herself to breath quieter, even if her lungs demanded more.

               “Ah-hah!  I know where you are now!” Her captor cried with joy.  “That room’s a dead end.  Now we can have some real fun!”

               Her plan worked, at least for the moment.  Jess crept down the hall, moving at a more reasonable pace to let her body recover a bit.  She knew that her little ploy would not distract the horrid man for long.  A few minutes, at most.  But it was something.  Maybe if she kept going, she would find the exit.  Or someone to help her.  She would even take another unlocked door. 

               “Oh, you’re cleaver.” Came her captor’s voice.  “That just makes me want you more.  Now come here and we can have some fun.”

               Jess looked back, and then once more started running.

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I wonder how many women have had a nightmare like this.  A lot, I bet.  I mean, it's terrifying. 

Word: Rewild

rewild

[ree-wahyld]

verb (used with object)

1. to introduce (animals or plants) to their original habitat or to a habitat similar to their natural one: proposals to rewild elephants to the American plains.
2. to return (land) to a more natural state: rewilding an unpopulated island for use as an animal preserve.

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               “Do we really have to let them go?” Sarah whined.

               “You know we do.” Phil answered as he got out of the van.

               “But…but they’re so sweet and nice and gentle.”

               She looked towards the back of the van, where a large cage rested.  The occupants of the cage raised their heads and looked at her.

               “Sarah, they’re wild animals.  They’re gentle now because they’re young.  But once they get older…”

               Sarah let out a pathetic little whimper and looked at her co-worker with wide eyes.

               “Oh don’t give me that look.” Phil said as he rolled his eyes.  “Remember, these aren’t dogs, they’re wolves.  Wild born wolves.”

               “I know that.  But still.”

               “Get out of the van, Sarah.  Let’s get these two out into the woods.”

               “I don’t want to.”

               “My god, woman, you’re 32 years old.  Stop acting like a spoiled child.”

               Sarah’s expression hardened and she glared at Phil for daring to mention her age.  Sure, there were no other people around, but it was the principle of the thing.  He chose to ignore her ire and headed to the back of the van, opening the doors to get access to the wolves’ cage.  The animals turned from Sarah to the open door.  One of them stood and began to pace.

               “We can’t let them go.” Sarah said.  She unbuckled her seatbelt and jumped out of the van.  “They’re too gentle and sweet.  Besides, by now, we’re pretty much their pack.  They need us.”

               “No they don’t.  They’ll either make a new pack or join an existing one.  And they’re gentle now because they’re in the beta mindset.  What happens when one of them decides he wants to be the alpha?  They won’t seem so gentle then.”

               “But…but…”

               “No buts.  You know this has to happen.  The best thing you can do right now is come out here and help me.  See them off as they head back into the wild, which you know as well as I do is where they belong.”

               Sarah huffed and muttered and whined the entire time, but she joined Phil at the cage.  Each of them grabbed a side of it and together they got it out of the van.  The positioned the door towards the nearby forest. 

               Tears started to well up in Sarah’s eyes as Phil opened the cage door.  The two young wolves dashed out of the cage.  They stopped and sniffed at the trees before heading in.  One of the animals slowly approached Sarah and Phil and sniffed them for a moment.  Sarah held out her hand to the animal.  It sniffed the offered limb and licked it lightly.  A quick bark from the other wolf, and both dashed off, quickly disappearing into the trees.

               Phil patted Sarah on the back.  “You know we did the right thing.”

               “I know.” Sarah said with watery eyes.  “I just…”

               “I know, I know.  Tell you what, when we get back we’ll talk to some of the others at the shelter.  Maybe we can get a dog there.”

               “Really?”

               “Yes, really.”

               Sarah sniffed and wiped her eyes.  “I’d like that.”

               ****************

  Remember, wild animals might seem as cute and friendly as their domesticated cousins, but that only lasts until the animal decides it's time for a change.  Then they might not be so great to have around.

Word: Applesauce

applesauce

[ap-uh l-saws]

noun

1. apples stewed to a soft pulp and sometimes sweetened or spiced with cinnamon.
2. Slang. nonsense; bunk.

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            Nick looked at the counter and blinked in surprise.  Every inch of it was covered with bags filled with apples.  There must have been at least a dozen bags there, and each was stuffed to the brim.

               “So, I take it the apple picking was a success?” He said. 

               His wife, Jessica, sighed and looked over the bounty of red and green fruit.  “Too much so, yes.” She said.

               “Why did you pick so many?  You know we can’t eat them all.”

               “Julie wants to try her hand at making applesauce, so she insisted we pick a lot.”

               “And she couldn’t have made do with two or three bags?  I mean, how much does she want to make?”

               “Well.”  Jessica said.  She rubbed the back of her neck and stretched the word out.  Nick had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.  “You see, she kind of wants to try making a unique recipe, so she needs a lot of apples to experiment with.”

               “Oh.  I see.  And you didn’t say no to her, why?”

               “I tried, I really did.  But she got that look in her eyes and…and I just couldn’t.”

               It was Nick’s turn to sigh.  “And here I thought it was the dad who can’t resist the daughter.  Please tell me you’ll at least keep things simple.  You remember the last time she tried to experiment with food.”

               Both of them let out a shudder at the memory of the ten-year old’s attempts to make a new kind of cake.  They had been scraping the oddly chunky batter out of the carpet for days.

               “She said she found a few recipes online that she wants to try out first.  And I’ll make sure I’m with her the entire time.  I’ll do my best to keep things reasonable.”

               Nick nodded.  He still could not stop himself from imagining what terrible fate might befall the poor, innocent apples.  He would have to pin his hopes on his wife’s supervision to reign in their daughter’s more unusual tastes and ideas.

               “So what should we do if something does go wrong?” Nick asked.  Jessica looked over the rows of plastic orchard bags.

               “If things get too out of hand, we can always give some away and tell her store bought apples aren’t good for making applesauce with.  That should take care of it.”

               “Okay.  Maybe we should hide a bag or two beforehand though, just in case.  You know, limit her materials to limit the potential damage?”

               “It won’t work.  You know she’s a smart kid.  She knows how many bags we brought home.  Hiding them will only make her want to search the house for them.”

               Nick did know that.  He just hoped that Julie would not care, and be content with the still large number of apples still available.  But, knowing his child, Jessica was probably correct. 

               “Well then, I guess we’d better get ready for anything.” Nick said.  “Who knows, maybe she’ll actually make something good this time.”

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Apples are tasty.  That's really all that needs to be said, right?