Or was it Jake laughing?
Louise didn't like being terrorized but more than that, she didn't like being laughed at. She thought of Jake up in the attic. Laughing himself silly while his trained raccoons scared her half to death. For what purpose?
To get the house, silly.
Anger is a more powerful emotion than fear. At least to Louise. She screamed, "Damn you, Jake! . . . and threw the bedclothes on the floor.
The covers acted like a net. The raccoons thrashed underneath them trapped. One glimmer of common sense told her to lock the closet door. She didn't know how many trained raccoons Jake had. She had her baseball bat and she probably had three trapped raccoons. Now what?
The anger exploded in Louise like a bomb. She grabbed the bat and swung down on the squirming covers. The screams did not invoke any mercy. She remembered the laughter. She remembered her terror. Blood began oozing up to the surface of the comforter. She beat the writhing mass until it stopped screaming. She beat it until it stopped moving. She beat it until the comforter was red and soggy and until no part of it seemed lumpy enough to be covering an animal.
Then she dragged the soggy, dripping mess out into the hall. Jake was going to buy her new carpets too. The little monster that had been scratching at her door was gone. It probably ran when it heard the screaming. No more little miss scared wife.
"Your pets are dead, Jake," she yelled up the attic steps. "Just like I killed that one you carried back up there with you."
The attic was chillingly quiet. Killing his pets would not play well in the divorce court. To be honest, Louise didn't like how it sounded coming out of her mouth now.
"Wait until Daddy gets here. I called him, you know. He is going to kick your ass!"
Silence.
"Be- because I- I know what you're trying to do with these trained raccoons. You want people to think I'm crazy. Did your California tramp want to move back to the East coast? Do you want to get this house? I will burn it down before I let you get it."
Nothing.
"You want me to think I'm losing my mind? Then you can put me in a mental institution and you wouldn't even have to get a divorce. What was the plan? The raccoons would run all through the house but, when somebody comes, there'd be no signs of them? Have you got some hiding place in the attic I don't know about? Between the floor and ceiling maybe? Have you been hiding up there all day with your stinkin' raccoons?"
Nada.