The Umbrella Man

(CW: Violence, Murder, Gore, Mild Language.)

“I don’t need an umbrella,” Jane Foster said with a strained smile. “It hasn’t rained here in a long time.”

The old man standing on Jane’s front porch grabbed his black vest and patted his chest like a salesman gearing up for a second pitch. He lifted his dark-brimmed hat just enough to maneuver his cold, starless eyes away from Jane’s steely gaze and took a step backward.

He turned his attention to the green shrubbery that engulfed Jane’s front lawn and flashed his pearly whites. “To be sure, my dear,” he said politely. “But I suspect the winds of change are blowing in.”

“Well,” Jane said, smushing her red lips together, “I haven’t heard the weather report today, but I’m reasonably sure it’s not going to rain.”

“Ah… but an umbrella has many uses to be sure, my dear. Why…it can shield the sun’s rays from damaging your porcelain skin, or they can make excellent decorations for when you’re feeling gloomy.”

“I—”

“And in weary times, a good umbrella can make a powerful self-defense weapon,” he said, stabbing the pointy side of his umbrella into the vanishing wind.

Jane cracked a smile and giggled. His calculated, clumsy posture was comical at best. A sense of ease washed over her soul like the delicate whites in the morning laundry. “Oh, well, I suppose I could hear you out for a little while,” she said, opening her front door. “My name is Jane. Won’t you come in for a bit? I don’t want to miss my afternoon soap operas.”

“How wonderful. I wouldn’t dream of keeping you from your entertainment. I haven’t introduced myself, madame. My name is Jebediah Kerman,” he said with a quick bow, “but people round these parts call me the Umbrella Man.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Of course they do.”

Jebediah birthed a wild grin that stretched from ear to ear as he entered Jane’s two-story suburban home. The living room was decorated in a floral arrangement with varying colors that stabbed his curious eyes like sharp daggers. From the wallpaper to the furniture, and even down to the carpet, everything matched accordingly and had its place.

“This is a lovely home you have here,” Jebediah said, lively. “You have superb tastes.”

“That’s very nice of you to say,” Jane replied. “Won’t you have a seat?” she said, pointing to the sofa.

In one swift motion, Jebediah parted his black coat and gingerly sat down. At his age, every move had to be a calculated decision to avoid a fall or pointless injury. He longed for the youthful energy he once had. His oval hat remained in place like it was a permanent fixture.

“Oh my… Where are my manners? Would you like some tea or coffee?”

“Water, if it’s not too much trouble. In this hot weather, I’m afraid my throat always seems to be a bit parched. No matter how much I drink, my thirst is never sated.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Jane said warmly. “Give me a moment, and I’ll get you a glass.”

As Jane left Jebediah’s watchful presence, he grew cold and stiff. He sat straight as a board, and his eyes became black as night. The temperature in the room must have dropped at least five degrees because when Jane returned, she wiggled her shoulders and said, “It’s a bit cool in here. I’d better turn the air conditioning down. Here’s your water.”

She handed him the glass and left the room again to check the central air settings in the nearby hallway. She didn’t notice Jebediah’s odd demeanor or how he placed the cup on the coffee table without taking a sip.

“That’s so odd…” Jane scoffed, returning to the room. “The settings are fine. I hope it’s not going bad.” She sat down in a recliner opposite from Jebediah and cursed, “That’s the last fucking thing I need!”

“I wouldn’t worry if I were you, my dear. Sometimes things have a way of working themselves out.”

“Thank you. Sometimes I feel like the whole world has it out for me. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.” After a deep breath, Jane regained her composure and remembered the extent of their meeting. “So, I don’t see a bag of umbrellas. Do you have a pamphlet or something?”

“Oh, no, my dear. In my line of business, I find the unnecessary resources wasteful in their given purpose.” He lifted his black umbrella and grasped it firmly. “No. This is the only gold standard.”

“Well, I admire your passion. So, you’re just selling that one standard umbrella?”

“It’s a cut above the rest. I assure you. This magnificent umbrella will be the last thing you ever see.”

“I’m sorry?!” Jane gasped, flinching backward. “What was that again?”

“I said, this magnificent umbrella will be the last one you ever need.”

“That’s what I thought you said…ha, ha, ha! I must be losing my mind. I’m sorry.”

“Think nothing of it,” he said, parting his lips to show off his white teeth again.

“Well, the time is getting on, so how does this work? Do you have an order form or something? You’ve been so kind in my frustrations today, I’d like to buy one of your umbrellas. How much are they?”

Jebediah rose from the couch and twirled his umbrella until the wooden handle landed softly into his wrinkled hand. He placed two fingers on the metal runner and began to push it up. He wanted to show her its full beauty.

“Wait!” Jane yelled. “You can’t open that in here. It will give me seven years’ bad luck!”

“An old superstitious myth, I’m afraid,” he said in a low tone. “Besides, once I’m done with you, bad luck will be the least of your worries.”

“What do you mean?” Jane asked, rising from her seat. “I-I think you should leave now.”

“Leave? Why would I do that when we are having such a wonderful time?”

The simple approach wasn’t working. Jane knew she had to stand her ground and be firm. “I won’t say this again, but you need to leave! I don’t want to buy one of your umbrellas.”

Jebediah fully extended the runner on the shaft of his umbrella, and the black polyester-nylon material fell off like a peacock shedding its feathers. There, four lanky metal blades began to twirl like a propeller.

“I wasn’t trying to sell you one, my dear. It’s just that my blades are so thirsty… Won’t you give them a drink as well?”

As the sound of the blades revved up like a growling chainsaw, Jane screamed, “Ahh!”

Jebediah flashed a maniacal smile. “Don’t worry. You won’t feel a thing. The Umbrella Man is here to take good care of you!”

“Help me!” Jane yelled, running out of the living room.

“No one is going to help you! All you do is bitch and complain!” Jebediah mocked. “Maybe your precious soap operas will help.”

He held the twirling umbrella blades in front of him and gave chase. The sharp edges destroyed the hallway as Jane struggled to open a window. Creeping ever closer, Jebediah’s laughter filled the entire house.

Jane knew she had to escape. Her life couldn’t end this way. What would the neighbors think?!

In a mad dash, Jane ran towards the back door in the kitchen, but it wouldn’t budge. If only she had remembered to unlock the deadbolt. Perhaps her fear got the best of her. When she heard the purr of Jebediah’s blades creeping closer and closer, she grabbed a sharp knife from a nearby drawer and steadied herself.

When Jebediah saw the weapon, he shook his head in disbelief. “Do you really think that will help you against this?!” He held the twirling blades upward and sawed the kitchen table to bits.

Jane’s hands shook like a leaf hanging on for dear life in a hurricane wind. She dropped the knife and ran out of the kitchen in a rageful panic.

The front door! If I’m quick enough, I can beat him to it and escape!

Happenstance is a strange bedfellow. Before Jane could reach the doorknob, the Umbrella Man was there waiting for her.

“You’re not going anywhere, my dear. My blades are thirsty for your blood!”

“No!” Jane cried. “Leave me alone!”

Jebediah slashed the umbrella downward, hoping to cut his prey to bits, but Jane ducked and rolled out of the way with only inches to spare. Her only escape was up the stairs. It was the only place she could go anyway.

As she made her journey upwards with tears rolling down her cheeks, the Umbrella Man raised his blades and destroyed each rung a split second after Jane had passed over them. A small glimmer of hope flashed before her as the final step came into view. There, she could run into one of the bedrooms and escape through a window. The fall would be painful, but at least she would be alive to run another day.

“My sweet dear, you have no means of escaping my hunger. You have something I want. Something I crave. And I will have it!”

“No! Stay away from me!” Jane screamed, but it was too late.

Jebediah raised his umbrella high above his head and hovered just enough to grab Jane’s ankle and pull her down the broken stairs. The physical exertion made his old bones crack like a thousand splinters, but now he had her where he wanted. His empty stomach was twisting like twin cobras fighting for their next meal.

Jane opened her trembling mouth to scream for help one last time, but Jebediah stomped her head through a half-broken stair rung with the back of his boot. Then he kneeled down and stared into her fading eyes.

“Ah…now that’s better, my dear. Silence at long last.” He lifted his twirling umbrella once more and slammed it into Jane’s chest. Like a weed whacker from hell, the blades ate through her rib cage until her beating heart was free to bear all.

Jebediah reached down and pulled the thumping, muscular organ out, ripping the tubes like they were flimsy rubber bands. “Don’t worry,” he said coldly, “the Umbrella Man will take good care of you!”

He lowered Jane’s heart to his old, wrinkled lips and ate it nice and slow.

A few hours later, a young, dapper man stepped out of Jane Foster’s house dressed in black. He held a matching umbrella in his left hand, and his teeth were white as fresh snow. He whistled a lovely tune and strolled away like a person without a care in the world….