Monster (21 page)

“What weird things?” asked Chester.

“Just… weirdness in general. She always had strange things happen to her, things that didn’t quite make sense, that she couldn’t explain. No one in the family talks about it much. We just assumed she was hiding the truth. Turns out all this time, the truth was hiding from her.”

“Something like that,” said Monster.

“You’re telling us this has happened a lot in the past?” asked Chester.

“I don’t know,” said Greta. “I’m still trying to adjust to the idea, but yes, I think so. Judy has always been the screwup in the family. When she was younger, she was arrested a handful of times. Mostly vandalism, destruction of private property, some minor arson, things like that. Once, the cops were pretty sure she’d smashed a car that belonged to her ex-boyfriend. They couldn’t really prove it, though.”

“How long have these incidents been happening?” asked Chester.

“They came and went. She’d be fine for a few years, then suddenly there’d be a new round of them for a few months. We were sure she was bipolar or something. Even sent her to a few psychiatrists, but all the doctors agreed that she didn’t exhibit any symptoms. Eventually we gave up and tried to ride out the rough times.”

Greta sipped her coffee. “Damn. I always gave her a hard time about all her screwups. I never believed her when she said it wasn’t her fault.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” said Monster. “It’s just how it is. Even if she had been able to explain, you wouldn’t have been able to understand.”

“But I still feel bad about it. She must have been having a rough time. One time, we thought she’d dug up the backyard. I mean, dug it all up. There was a hole at least twenty feet wide and fifteen feet deep. And she’s standing there, covered head to toe in dirt, and Dad starts yelling at her for doing it. But she couldn’t have done it, could she? Not in less than an hour. Not without a backhoe. How could we think she was responsible for that?”

“Because it was easier to believe than the alternative,” said Monster.

“I guess.” She pressed the Post-it to her forehead. “I think this is giving me a headache. Is that normal?”

“Perfectly,” said Monster. “Nothing to worry about.”

Greta rubbed her fingers along her temple to soothe the ache. “Does this happen a lot? If magic is real and most of us can’t see it, wouldn’t this be happening to people all the time?”

“Not really,” said Monster. “There’s not that much magic around. Not anymore. It’s not uncommon for people to run across it once or twice a day, but it usually falls under the category of ignorable incidents. Incogs don’t talk about it, don’t deal with it, and just work around it when they have no other choice. It’s not often a conflict, just a few minutes a day that they conveniently push to the back of their minds and don’t think about, writing incidents off as daydreams or something they read in a book or saw in a movie. That’s the haze. That’s how it works.”

“Why does this keep happening to Judy?” asked Greta. “Is she some kind of monster magnet?”

“We don’t really know,” said Chester. “If there is such a thing, we’ve never heard of it.”

“What do we do?” asked Greta.

Monster shrugged. “We don’t do anything. There’s nothing to do. We let the Reds handle it.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep, that’s it.”

“You don’t think they wanted to hurt her, do you?”

“How would I—”

Chester kicked Monster under the table.

Monster offered his most reassuring smile. “I mean, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Your sister can take pretty good care of herself. Trust me.”

Greta politely smiled back. “Do you know what I find most disturbing about this? It’s how unreal it seems, even now. I still can’t wrap my head around it. I know I should be really worried about Judy, but it’s all too unbelievable.”

“I’m afraid the rune can only help you recognize magic,” said Chester. “It can’t make it more acceptable to your underdeveloped brain. There’s really not a way around that.”

“What if they never find Judy? What if I never see her again? How will I even remember what happened to her without this stuck to my head?”

Monster and Chester hesitated.

“What will happen?” she asked more insistently.

“You aren’t going to like the answer,” said Monster.

“Tell me, damn it!”

“Those incidents that are harder to ignore usually result in a sort of autopilot response. At its most extreme, it’s called a complete incognizant fugue, and it allows incogs to forget days, years, family, friends. They’ll overlook anything that they can’t understand and anything related to it as well.”

“You’re saying I’ll forget about her. I’ll forget about my own sister.”

“It’ll be easier for your mind to do that than accept magic,” said Chester. “Sorry, miss.”

“But I’m sure it won’t come down to that,” added Monster. “I’m sure everything will be fine. The Reds are pretty good at handling this kind of thing. It’s what they’re paid for, right?”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Mr. Dionysus. You’ve been very kind to take the time to explain this to me.”

“No problem.” Monster made a show of looking at his watch, tapping it loudly with his fingers. “Is that the time? I really have to get going. There’s this… uh… thing I’ve got to do. Real important, uh, thing. Magic stuff, y’know. You wouldn’t understand.”

Greta frowned. “No, I guess I wouldn’t.”

Monster reached over and pulled the posted rune off her forehead before she could react. Almost immediately, the haze fell over Greta. The effect wasn’t normally so fast. There were different levels of light cogs, and Greta was more susceptible than her sister. The stressful nature of the memories also made it easier to shuffle them into her subconscious. The irony was that by explaining things to her, Monster had made it even easier for her to forget. Now they were no longer merely mysteries she didn’t comprehend. They were secrets she couldn’t absorb.

She looked Monster over with a vague recognition. “Don’t I know you?”

“I don’t think so.” Monster pushed away from the table and left before she could think about it.

“You induced a full fugue,” said Chester. “And you did it on purpose.”

“What else could I do?” said Monster. “It was the only merciful thing. She couldn’t help her sister. Now she can move on at least. She would’ve forgotten anyway. I just helped her forget faster so she could get on with her life. I don’t feel good about it either, but I don’t hear you coming up with a better idea. It’s easy to criticize.”

“You’re right,” said Chester. “I guess it was the only option.”

“It’ll all work out. I’m sure Judy will show up in a few days and it won’t make a damn bit of difference whether her sister worries an extra few hours about her then.”

“I said you’re right. What more do you want?”

“I just like hearing it. You don’t say it nearly enough.”

“Be right more often and I would.”

“Do you think I’m happy about it? But I’m not a cop. And every time Judy and I meet, one or both of us is almost killed. Greta was just going to forget eventually. From a practical perspective, it might as well be sooner than later. Save her some unnecessary stress. And when Judy shows up again, her sister probably won’t even remember any of it.”

They crossed the street and watched Greta finish her coffee. She paid the bill, then quietly got up and walked away.

“You could’ve at least paid for the coffee,” said Chester.

“And I could’ve bought her a new house while I’m at it. Get off my back.” Monster brushed Chester aside. “And get off my shoulder. You’re shedding all over me.”

Chester landed on the sidewalk and tried to fold himself into his gnomish shape. One of his arms snapped off and fluttered to the ground.

“I think this body has had it,” he said. “Might be time to get a new one. I have to get going anyway. The wife isn’t too happy as it is. Says I spend too much time in this dimension already.”

“Get going. I can handle things now.”

“Are you sure?”

“This may come as a surprise to you, but I did get along just fine without you for many years.”

“Sure, boss, sure.” Chester sounded skeptical, though. “Catch you later.”

He left his borrowed body. A stiff breeze kicked up and carried it away like the lifeless paper it now was.

“Good riddance,” muttered Monster.

Without Chester around to question Monster’s every decision, he figured he could get back to his life. He checked his wallet. He didn’t have enough for a cab. He had his credit card. Liz paid the bill on it, and he didn’t use it if he could help it.

He found a space on a nearby bus stop bench to brood. There was a wide-shouldered bodybuilder type taking up most of it, and Monster had to settle for the half a butt cheek’s worth of sitting space. It was more exhausting than standing, but there was an old lady eyeing the spot greedily. He wasn’t about to give it to her.

He checked his burns. The expired elixir had healed the damage, though they were still tender.

Hot and moist breath blew on his neck. He tried to ignore it. Nothing was going to drive him from his hard-won two and a half inches of bench. Even if his legs were trembling under the strain of claiming it.

The breather snorted and pressed warmly against him.

“Hey, come on! Don’t make me—”

He stared into the flaring nostrils of a winged white stallion. The horse pushed its muzzle against his face. Monster pulled away, slipping off the bench and slamming his tailbone against the sidewalk.

“Son of a bitch.” He stood, rubbing the base of his spine.

The horse flapped its wings and grabbed Monster’s collar in its teeth.

“No, no, no!” He jumped away. The horse tore off a long slash of fabric from his shirt. “Back off!”

Monster turned back to the bench. The old lady had swooped in to claim his space. She smiled at him sinisterly, but he knew her varicose-veined legs couldn’t hold up forever. It was just a matter of time.

The horse wrapped its wet lips around his ear. Monster put both hands on its head and pushed it away. “Get lost! Scram!”

The horse moved its head to one side and focused one solid blue eye on Monster. It whipped its head, slapping him in the face with its long mane. It whinnied derisively.

Sputtering, Monster checked the horse for tags or a brand of ownership. It didn’t have one. He didn’t know where it came from, but winged horses didn’t just fall out of the sky. Well, maybe they did sometimes, but a specimen this well bred and friendly had to belong to someone.

The horse stomped its right hoof three times on the sidewalk as it continued to look at Monster with some indefinable expectation.

“Hell, let’s get you bagged and worry about the reward later.”

Monster pulled out his dictionary. The horse snatched the book. After a brief struggle, a corner of the book and a few scraps of paper came off in Monster’s hand. The horse chewed on the rest, then dropped it into a sewer drain.

The stallion reared upward, spread its wings, and whinnied. It settled down and kicked over a garbage can. The nearby incogs glanced over with annoyance as they stubbornly pretended nothing weird was happening.

“Nice horse,” said the bench-stealing old lady. “Is it yours?”

He pushed it away. “Does it look like mine?”

“Kind of.”

The stallion tried to enfold one of its wings around Monster. He slipped underneath the mass of feathers.

“He sure seems to like you,” she observed.

The horse turned around and slapped Monster with its tail.

“I think he wants you to ride him,” said the old lady.

The horse snorted and stamped the sidewalk twice.

“Oh, no!” He put his hand on its muzzle and kept it at arm’s length. “No way!”

“I’ve always wanted to ride one of those,” said the lady.

“Be my guest.” Monster turned his back to the stallion. “I’m not interested. I know Judy sent you. I don’t know how she does it, but she did, didn’t she?”

The horse’s only response was to nibble on its shoulder.

Two street Reds, a doughy human and a stocky dwarf, headed in Monster’s direction.

“Sir, is this your animal?” asked the human officer.

“What?” said Monster. “No, it’s not mine. I’ve never even seen it before.”

The horse nuzzled Monster’s neck.

“Are you sure it’s not yours?” asked the dwarf.

“Seems to really like you, sir,” said the human cop.

“That’s what I said,” remarked the lady on the bench.

“You are aware that winged horses aren’t allowed on the street, aren’t you, sir?” asked the dwarf.

Monster said, “Actually, I’m glad you’re here, officers. This horse is looking for some help, and I’m sure you could be of more help than I could.”

The stallion bit his arm.

“Ouch! Hey, cut it out.” He nearly smacked it across the muzzle, but caught the disapproving expressions on the Reds’ faces and eased into a soft pat instead.