Monster (15 page)

“I mean destroyed. Ravaged. Demolished. Obliterated. Annihilated. Gone. Along with pretty much everything I own. Except for my car and these clothes I’m wearing.”

“What? How did that happen?” Greta finished sorting papers and closed up her briefcase. “Was there a gas explosion or something?”

“No. It wasn’t anything like that.”

“What was it?”

Judy tried to remember, but the memory was slippery. Thinking about it gave her a bit of a headache too.

“I don’t know. I think it was a wild animal attack.”

“Animals? Like dogs or something? How the hell did dogs get into your apartment?”

“It wasn’t dogs.”

“What was it?”

Judy shut her eyes and dredged her memory but came up with only the vaguest details. None of them made much sense. “I don’t know. Maybe it was dogs.”

Greta gave her that look. Judy was all too familiar with it. It was accusing, disappointed, and suspicious all at once.

“You’re always doing this,” said Greta. “You show up with some ridiculous excuse that doesn’t make a damn bit of sense and expect me or Dad to bail you out.”

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do. Remember that time you got in that car accident?”

“That wasn’t my fault.”

“And we’re supposed to just believe you hit a cow in the middle of the city?”

“It wasn’t a cow,” said Judy. “It was… something else.”

“And what about when you burned down that Burger King?”

“I didn’t start that fire. I am not an arsonist. That therapist Dad sent me to said so, didn’t she?”

“Someone started that fire.”

“Wasn’t me.”

“What about that motel room you destroyed on your senior-year field trip?”

Judy only distantly remembered that, but she was fairly certain that hadn’t been her fault either.

“It’s just bad luck,” said Judy.

“That’s a lot of bad luck for one person.”

“You don’t think I know that? Just the other day at the grocery store I was nearly killed by wild animals.”

“More wild animals?” Greta fixed her with that look again.

“Wolves or lions or apes or something. If you don’t believe me, you can ask my boss. He was there.”

Greta appeared unconvinced.

Judy grabbed the phone. “Here. The city even sent a guy. I bet if you call that’ll show in their records.”

Greta took the phone and hung it up. “Maybe later. One of us has a job to think about.”

“I have a job.”

“Yes, I’m sure that aisle stocking is a rich and rewarding career?”

Greta’s attempts at sarcasm always sounded more like questions. Judy let it slide. The arguments were always the same. She wasn’t interested in them anymore.

“Damn. I’m running late, and I’m driving the carpool today. Just stay as long as you need to get back on your feet,” said Greta, sounding far more put upon than Judy deemed appropriate. “Nancy has a sleepover after school. Help yourself to whatever is in the refrigerator.”

“Thanks,” said Judy. “None of that stuff was my fault, you know.”

There was no way for Greta to understand. She’d always had the charmed life, never had to deal with this… stuff. Judy struggled to come up with a better word for it, but that was all she had. It was just a bunch of stuff that didn’t make much sense and that she couldn’t remember clearly. If she ever got a job that gave her decent health insurance, she might look into getting her brain scanned. In the meantime, it’d be nice if once, just once, Greta had some of her own… stuff to deal with. Nothing terrible. Just a little misfortune to show how easily a perfect life could go off track.

Never happen, thought Judy.

Mary got into Greta’s car. “You’re late.”

Greta shrugged. “Sorry. Family crisis.”

Mary turned her head and stared out at the horizon to illustrate her complete lack of interest in Greta’s personal life. Greta wasn’t too keen on discussing it herself, so she was happy to let it drop.

“Don’t mention it to Jeanine,” she said, as if she had to. Mary wasn’t much of a talker. They’d been carpooling for two years now, and Greta knew absolutely nothing about Mary except that she had a son (name: unknown), she didn’t eat marshmallows, and she liked to read Danielle Steele novels.

Jeanine, on the other hand, loved to talk. It wasn’t that she was self-centered. She just despised silence. If there was a quiet moment, she just had to fill it. She was already talking the moment Greta’s pulled her car to the curb.

“Hey, ladies. You’re tardy.” Mary’s remark on Greta’s lateness had been an accusation, but Jeanine’s was playful. She winked in the rearview mirror. “Maybe I should give you a detention slip.”

Greta didn’t find her comment particularly funny, but it was an honest effort, so she smiled back and nodded.

Jeanine greeted Mary cheerfully. Mary offered a terse reply, and they were off.

“Sorry. Didn’t get out on time,” said Greta.

“Don’t worry about it,” replied Jeanine. “These things happen. Not like it’s the end of the world.”

Mary grumbled. The end of the world was probably the only excuse she’d accept, and then only grudgingly.

Greta sped a little. There was a five-minute window to avoid the morning rush. If she could beat that, they could make up for lost time. It might even appease Mary.

They didn’t make it. There was an accident that slowed traffic to a crawl. The cars crept along in the exhaust-choked morning air. Jeanine talked the whole while about everything and nothing in particular. Greta did her best to carry some of the weight of the conversation to keep things pleasant as Mary continued to stare, brows furrowed, out the windows.

Something bumped into Greta’s car. She thought the driver behind her had carelessly smacked her bumper. But then the roof creaked.

“What the hell?” asked Jeanine. “Pigeons?”

If it were pigeons, it would have to have been a heck of a lot of them, judging by the bend in the roof.

“What’s that?” said Jeanine, pointing to the back window. A lion’s tail swished back and forth from above.

Greta was too focused on the possible jungle cat sitting atop her car to notice the traffic pull ahead. The driver behind her honked his horn to remind her. She eased forward slowly, nearly banging into the car ahead of her as the lion shifted its weight.

They drove for several more minutes. Everyone was quiet. Greta and Jeanine exchanged curious glances as the lion remained above them, while Mary appeared no less annoyed or concerned than before.

“We should do something,” said Jeanine. “Shouldn’t we?”

Greta agreed, but she wasn’t sure what.

“I’m calling 911.” Mary flipped open her cell phone. “Yes, I’d say this is an emergency. There’s a lion on our car, and I’ve got a meeting in half an hour.”

While Mary discussed the situation with the dispatcher, Greta decided it might be wise to pull off the freeway. The next exit was three miles away through sluggish traffic and two clogged lanes. No easy feat, even without a lion on one’s car. But it turned out not to be so difficult. Greta discovered that a lion on the roof was as effective as a police siren.

Off the freeway, Greta tried speeding up to persuade the beast to jump off her car. It only secured its grip by digging its claws into the roof. They sliced into the interior. Rather than risk having her roof torn off, she slowed to a stop and pulled in to a convenient strip mall parking lot.

“We’ll wait here,” said Greta.

Mary gave the dispatcher their location and hung up. Impatiently and with great annoyance, she dialed to inform work she’d be even later than expected.

“Should we get out?” asked Jeanine. “Maybe we can make a run for it.”

“It’s a lion,” said Greta. “We can’t outrun a lion.”

“Maybe it won’t chase us.”

Mary lowered her phone. “Do you mind? This is an important call.”

Jeanine whispered, “I bet it won’t chase us if it’s not hungry.”

“It’s probably hungry,” Greta said. “How many gazelles are there in the city for it to catch? Don’t they always say you should stay in the car no matter what in those animal safari parks?”

“This isn’t a park,” said Jeanine.

“The logic still applies. Stay put. Sit still. Wait for help.”

Greta didn’t feel much safer in the car. The gashes in the ceiling proved just how thin a layer of protection the automobile provided. But she reasoned that if the lion was indeed hungry, it would probably go after one of the tasty morsels walking around in the open. She expected everyone to run and hide, but a surprising number of people seemed unimpressed by her situation. They gave the car a wide berth, but it was more of an uncomfortable avoidance that showed in their expressions than outright fear.

A pair of huge paws slapped on the windshield. Spider web cracks appeared in the safety glass.

Jeanine stifled a shriek. Greta kept her cool, and Mary glared at the rogue animal atop the roof while arranging for a cab ride.

Mary said, “That’s right. Twelfth and Main. Twenty minutes? Make it ten and I’ll throw in an extra twenty bucks.”

The lion shifted its weight, causing the roof to buckle in the back. Jeanine grabbed at her door handle. She was in such a panic, she couldn’t quite figure out how to open it.

“Don’t go out there,” said Greta.

Jeanine finally threw open her door. Greta grabbed at Jeanine but couldn’t stop her from running. She dashed away without glancing back in her mad scrambling flight. Greta was certain the predator, by virtue of its instincts, would pounce on Jeanine and begin devouring her. At least it would give Greta a chance to get away. She felt a little bad for thinking that, but she was just being practical.

Jeanine did not get eaten alive. She never once looked back, just kept running as far and as fast as she could. The lion remained on the roof.

Greta was relieved and disappointed at the same time. Relieved that Jeanine had not been devoured. Frustrated that there was still a lion on her car and she wasn’t sure what to do about it.

“Where the hell is Animal Control?” she said.

“Where the hell is my cab?” said Mary.

They sat quietly for a few minutes more before the lion finally made the decision for them.

Roaring, the beast raked its claws across the roof, shredding it even further. Half of a giant paw poked its way into the car. With another stomp, it shattered the windshield. That was enough to spur the passengers into exiting.

They each flung open their door and ran for it. Mary bolted in one direction, Greta another. She made it only a few steps before tripping and falling. The asphalt scraped the palms of her hands as she tried to catch herself. She barely felt the pain and was on her feet. Something slammed into her from behind and knocked her to the ground again. A shadow fell across her. Greta spun around, her arms flailing wildly.

“No!” she shouted defiantly, drawing on her basic self-defense lessons at the gym. Be strong, be intimidating. Hit the attacker in the vulnerable points. Run like hell. It was basic strategy but seemed as practical to use against a lion as a mugger.

But it wasn’t a lion. It looked mostly like a lion, but it had a giant pair of feathery wings. Its face was that of a human woman, though about twice the size of Greta’s. Her passing knowledge of mythology allowed her to recognize a sphinx when she saw one.

“No!” she shouted again, readying herself to jam her fingers into the sphinx’s eyes as it ripped her apart. She might not accomplish much, but at least she’d go down fighting.

The sphinx sat. It smiled and licked its paw with a giant blue tongue.

Greta took a cautious step backwards.

The sphinx spread its wings and roared. It lowered its head and rose on its haunches as if to spring. The impulse to run hit Greta, but she’d never make it. Instead she stopped moving, and this seemed to satisfy the sphinx, who reclined and returned to licking its paw.

“Where does an eight-hundred-pound gorilla sit?” asked the creature.

“What?” replied Greta.

The sphinx glowered as a low rumble of disapproval rolled from the back of its throat. It flew like a shot to Greta’s car and with a casual swipe of its paws smashed a headlight and gouged deep slashes in the driver-side door.

Greta made a break for it. She didn’t get far. The sphinx was on her in a moment, knocking her to the ground again. The creature seized Greta’s leg in its mouth and dragged her with relative delicacy back to the car.

“What is it that demands an answer but never asks a question?” asked the sphinx.

Greta bit her lip as the sphinx raised an eyebrow and tapped its claws patiently.

“What is it that demands an answer but never asks a question?” asked the sphinx again, this time sounding a touch impatient.

“Damn,” said Greta. “I don’t know.”

She wasn’t surprised to find the sphinx displeased with the answer. Neither was she terribly shocked when it proceeded to slash her car’s tires and shatter its remaining windows. She didn’t bother running. She was pretty sure the sphinx would just catch her and drag her back again.