SLClimer - Rumours of the Grotesque

by Rumours of the Grotesque (v1. 0) [lit]

  No one would sit with her like I did. They all went about their business and said Maggie was just bein’ Maggie. I knew better. She showed me this lump in her side. It was about the size of a golf ball, but as the night got along, it got bigger and bigger. She felt a little better around 9 p.m. and had some Coke. Then, we were able to catch up a little. I told her about how I was doin’ hair for Laurie's new salon, and that I was datin’ again. My little daughter, Ronnie, was at her daddy's house in Mississippi visitin'. No matter how much talkin’ we did, the lump kept gettin’ bigger.

  At midnight, Maggie hurt so much we took her up to the hospital. That's when the strangeness began. They took her back, and by then she had a big fever. They did tests on her, but couldn't find out what was wrong. Then, they asked her if she was pregnant. Maggie and me gagged. How could they think that? Maggie was the good Christian girl in the family, she was smart. She wasn't goin’ to screw up her life like I did mine. I drilled that into her head. I don't care how long she lived up at college, she wouldn't screw up her life by gettin’ pregnant. God, I need another cigarette. I'm smokin’ like a chimney these last few days. I gotta have somethin’ to do with my hands.

  She said no she wasn't pregnant, and they said they needed to give her an X-ray. We told ‘em about the fish, but they said that ain't it. Maggie had somethin’ wrong inside. They took her up to the next floor and gave her an X-ray. As we waited, I held her hand and consoled her. She hurt so much. Then, while we was waitin', she told me somethin’ that nearly killed me, too. She was taking birth control pills. I was shocked. Maybe she was pregnant and she lied. But she never lied to me before.

  All we had was each other. After mama died, papa sometimes got out of control. We'd have to watch out for each other and his gropin’ hands once he got started drinkin’ for the night. If it wasn't for her, no tellin’ how I would have ended up.

  Anyway, the doctors came back in and said they found somethin’ on her pictures. They said she had a big tumor in her belly and that they needed to take it out directly. I told them about the birth control pills, but they said it didn't matter probably. They think the tumor's what hurt Maggie so much. The lump was bigger than a melon by then, and they still didn't know what it was. Stupid southern doctors. She always told me once you went to a doctor up north, you'd fear for your life to let one of those backwater yahoos touch you again.

  They decided to cut her open right then and there. Maggie held my hand, cryin', as the nurses came in to get her ready. They wheeled her out and took her down the hall. All the while, Maggie clung to me, scared like a kitten. She wanted me to stay with her, but they said no. They said I could watch, though. There was an observation theater area above the operating table, and they showed me to the place. No one else would go up to see, but I had to keep my eye on Maggie. Somethin’ wasn't right from the start, I knew it.

  I couldn't see very well when they got started, but they was quick. They put her to sleep, and the doctor in charge got out a scalpel. He cut on my sister, and a nurse vacuumed up the extra blood that dripped. That was all I could really see. What I learned was from listenin’ to them talk. Now I don't know nothin’ about medical things. In fact, I didn't make it past twelfth grade, but I ain't stupid.

  Somethin’ was wrong inside Maggie. I even heard the nurse gasp her breath like the devil snatched it out of her mouth. Because, somewhere below the whir and whine and beeps, you could hear a baby cryin'. First thing I thought was Lord to God, Maggie done lied to me. She was pregnant. We was the tightest sisters ever, I can't imagine she'd lie to me.

  Then, a minute later, I knew it wasn't a baby. The cry was more like a gag. The doctors began to cut and talk, murmuring and working like in a fever. There was somethin’ more goin’ on. The baby's noises grew to a spooky howl. Whatever it was, it was livin’ inside her.

  Looking back, they told me it was her twin. She was a twin, but for some reason they don't know, it didn't develop. Instead, Maggie's body grew ‘round it. They called it a voltoid. I don't know what in God's name it was then, and I still ain't quite sure I believe ‘em. ‘Cause what happened next was from the devil's worst nightmare.

  Whatever the thing was, it rose up out of the cut on Maggie's belly. It pulled itself out like a woman in a dress that's too tight. I was disgusted and it smelled. The doctors stood back as it kept coming—twisting and pulling. I couldn't see a thing because they was all standing in the way. But I could hear what they were saying. I heard words like teeth and hair and mouth. The thing must have done somethin’ ‘cause they all jumped back. That's when I could see it, the thing stickin’ outa my sister.

  It was about the size of a baby doll. Had a big lump of flesh beneath a mat of slick, black hair. And it had a mouth. Not like yours or mine, but it was a mouth. It chewed and spat, lettin’ us see about six ugly teeth. The thing had two nubby arms that pulled at my sister—tryin’ to get born it seemed. If it wasn't my Maggie, I'd have thrown up all over myself.

  I stood as close as I could to the edge and screamed her name: MAGGIE!. Oh, Lord, it was her twin. The thing squirmed and fought for breath, but I don't think it had any lungs. Just wiggled and moved. There was no eyes to look at—just slits, but it kept showin’ those gnarly teeth. They was deformed and pointed in every direction.

  The doctors and nurses didn't know what to do. Finally, the main doctor, Dr. Henry, grabbed at it. He caught it by the hair and pulled on it. But it was still part of my sister. The blood started rushin’ out of her belly and before I knew it, everything was quiet. The doctor put his stethoscope on the little thing and listened for a beat. He said it was beating, but goin’ fast. Then it died.

  I screamed at them to help my sister. They looked at me like I was a fool, but I yelled at them again. All the beepin’ machines started screamin’ with me, and that little blip of light made a straight line. Maggie's blood was all over the table, just everywhere like onER .

  Then, they jumped up and got into action. They pushed on her here and put things on her there. They all closed in around her and I couldn't see nothin'. That's when Dr. Henry yelled for them to get me outa there.

  Two hours later, I sat with Papa and the rest of my kin as we waited. They came to tell us Maggie had died and it was because of the twin. It twisted and wiggled so much it broke all her blood vessels and bowels, and she bled to death. Oh, sir, it was a sad day in our house. Maggie was our pride and joy. Now I'm gonna go back to school just like she always asked me to. She always said I got to learn to talk better. I'm workin’ on it.

  You still think I'm pullin’ your leg? Well, I ain't. I knew you wouldn't believe me so I brought it in this big jar. Let me put it up on your desk so you can get a real good look at it. They wanted to keep it, and they weren't goin’ to give it to me. But when they were all distracted, I snatched it and ran. It was my sister's twin, I couldn't let them have it.

  Look at it, do I look like a liar now? I didn't think so. Don't turn away from it. It's got little blue lips, and if you look close you can see two of the teeth. I hope you'll buy my story, we've got to bury my sister and pay the bills. How about $5,000? I think this is worth that much. You can come to the funeral if you want, it's tomorrow at 3—if we pay the bills. If it'll sweeten’ the pot, I'll give you a haircut. God, do you mind if I have another cigarette and can you open that window some more?

  A Gargoyle's Touch

  "Humans! They deserve everything they get,” Manx huffed as he began to walk again, shadows hiding the angular, decidedly stone-like features of his face.

  Pausing, Manx scanned the deserted park. He didn't know where he was, and was just as lost as when he first blinked in from Sri Lanka. The secretary there said the Memphis office was the only full-service branch that was open 24-hours a day.

  Memphis, Manx hotly thought, Memphis burned away in the Egyptian sun centuries ago. He was angry because he'd used nearly all of his travel vouchers before he realized the secretary was completely incompetent. Deep inside, he knew this w
hole situation was his own fault. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't find someone else to blame.

  "Again I have to pause and say...” Manx let the weight of the moment squeeze him in the middle, “where the hell are you!"

  "What are you screaming about?"

  "Who said that?” Manx turned; his stolen human overcoat flowed with his movement, and his pupil-less, white eyes narrowed.

  "Me, over here, the statue,” the voice answered.

  Manx stalked through the wet grass, his claws sinking deeply into the soil until he was nearly immobile. He focused, letting his eyes gather all the available light, until he saw the regal granite statue of Nathan Bedford Forrest in full relief on horseback.

  "Before you ask, I'm the horse,” the horse's mouth said rigidly.

  "What are you doing here?” Manx asked. “And why are you a horse?"

  "I could very well ask you the same thing, but I suspect you're looking for the Secretary of Dominion's Office."

  "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Who are you?"

  "Mergatroid."

  "...as in Heavens to Mergatroid?"

  "Ooh, I hate that saying. Don't ever say it again."

  "Sorry,” Manx said.

  "So why are you looking for the Secretary of Dominion's Office?"

  Manx plopped down onto the statue's base. “It's a long story, but let's say it ends with a mortal girl and me using my last Animate Stone coupon."

  "I knew it,” Mergatroid whinnied. “I could tell when I first saw you crawl out of the river and walk up Union Avenue. I've got good eyes, I can see for miles."

  "I'm still pissed about having no directions to this place,” Manx huffed. “You think there'd be a map or a help desk to point you in the right direction."

  "That's even more stupid than using the last of your coupons on a human!” Mergatroid laughed. “Do you think there's a signpost somewhere pointing out to mortals where the Secretary of Dominion's Office is? I don't think so."

  "Look, I've had a rough night. First, I used my last Animate Stone coupon to get laid, and she stands me up. Then, I used my second-to-last travel voucher to get to the Sri Lanka branch office to renew my paranormal license and get new AS coupons. When I get there, they tell me the office is closed and that the only 24-hour office open on Beltane—is in Memphis. So here I am, sitting and talking to you. I'm soaking wet from overshooting this park and landing on that sandbar."

  "They call it Mud Island around here,” Mergatroid added.

  "Well, I'd say that's about right. So then, I run into this talking rat—much like you I might add—that said the Secretary of Dominion's Office is across the river and in this forsaken park. Let me remind you, my friend, that I'm a stone gargoyle and we don't float."

  "So you had to walk the bottom?"

  "I don't even know what I stepped in along the way.” His expression was sour. “Then I finally made it ashore and walked until I found this park, but I continue to remain hopelessly lost.” He paused to listen to the shrill sound of insects in the trees. “How do you put up with that ... that ... noise."

  "What noise?” Mergatroid asked and paused to listen. Katydids whirred in the trees like violins out of tune. “The katydids?” Mergatroid waited until the insects fell into a natural lull. “Do you really want to find the Secretary of Dominion's office?"

  "Yes, I do. My license expires at the close of Beltane. If I don't renew it, I'll become stone again without any chance of animation. I've got things to do in this world—so many young human females with which to have intercourse."

  Mergatroid's voice was solemn, “I let my license lapse, unfortunately. I just didn't pay attention. I assumed the form of a horse to entertain a certain young Lady Godiva. Well, things happened, I got a little drunk, she insisted on taking my saddle off..."

  "...and before you knew it, you were a stone pony?"

  "More or less."

  "Jesus, women can ruin a man's life, can't they?” Manx stood again. “I do sympathize with you, really, but I need to get all this paperwork taken care of. Where's the office again?"

  "I never said the first time,” Mergatroid replied. “If you help me out of this mess, I'll tell you. If you give me a coupon to get out of this shape, I'll do just about anything."

  "Shapeshift coupons, hmm, I don't know if they give them to gargoyles."

  "Tell ‘em it's for a friend,” Mergatroid added. “I'd really like to get back to my old self."

  "So, we're friends now?” Manx thought aloud, “You'll do anything?"

  Mergatroid swallowed fearfully. “What do you want?"

  Manx thought it over. After all, how expensive could the coupon be? The price couldn't be over ten extra years of church-sitting or something. “I'll get back to you on that. Let's just say you owe me."

  "You won't regret this, I promise. Here's how you get to the office. Keep following this path down to the west end of the park. There'll be a small mausoleum near a pile of old cannon balls. For some reason, these humans keep them. Anyway, open the door and go in. That's the office."

  "That's terrific.” Manx leapt onto the path. “I'll be back."

  "Oh, the door opens the wrong way. Remember, even for us in the other worlds—your word is binding.” Mergatroid watched the dark shape of the gargoyle running through the night, pausing every now and then to dislodge his claws from the wet turf. “Don't forget..."

  At last, Manx located the small monument and rushed to it. In his stony heart, he could feel time creeping closer to the end of Beltane. That would be it for him; he'd be stuck on the top of some cathedral, or worse, a convent full of ugly nuns. Shuddering at the thought, Manx grabbed the small dented knob on the unremarkable bronze door and twisted it.

  The latch clicked, and he whipped the door open. He felt its weight shift on the ancient hinges; a foul stench drifted from within. Suddenly, a burst of hot air exploded across his face, followed by an unearthly howl. Peering into the dark, Manx saw a large wild boar, larger than any circus elephant, with brilliant red wings pouncing upon him. Instinctively, Manx slammed the door shut and threw his weight against it. The giant pig slammed into it, nearly causing Manx to lose his footing.

  "Damn, I opened the door the wrong way.” Manx quickly scanned the small door that was being brutalized by the scathing hooves and gnashing snout.

  "Christ, it's a damn walking piece of barbecue.” Manx struggled to maintain his position.

  Thinking quickly, Manx considered Mergatroid's warning. The gargoyle opened the door correctly, but maybe that was wrong. Manx felt the boar hit the door hard, grinding itself into the bronze. It wouldn't last much longer against the beast.

  With a free hand, Manx slipped a claw beneath one of the hinges and found, just as he suspected, it was not attached. The right way to open the door must be the wrong way he surmised, and he shifted his weight until he could reach both hinges.

  "Here goes nothing. I may be a pile of gravel if this isn't right."

  As soon as he took both hinges in hand, Manx leaned all his mass toward the door knob. Effortlessly, the door opened the other way, and beyond was a stuffy waiting room full of desperate, procrastinating souls. There were two harpies flapping in a corner, arguing over the last sliver of liver of a victim; a mermaid had her head stuck in a fishbowl; and some type of moving, stinking goo dripped as it sat in one of the waiting room seats.

  Manx stepped over to the numbered paper tabs and pulled. He had number 1,001. Looking up, he noticed that the red counter was only on 25. Realizing there would probably be no way to line-jump, Manx resigned himself to finding a place to sit. The only empty seat, however, was next to the pulsing, man-sized glob.

  "After the pig, it can't get any worse.” Manx shrugged his shoulders and went to the empty seat.

  "Hello,” the mass formed a mouth in its waves, “what brings you here?"

  "License renewal. I expire at the end of Beltane,” Manx replied as he glanced at the beautiful sprite sitting on the other side of him.
“Hello, sweetheart."

  "Hi,” she giggled.

  The mass's mouth vanished, but suddenly reformed on a different part of its body. “I'm applying for form status. I have to fill out the Form form."

  "The Form form,” Manx laughed. “That's very funny."

  Suddenly, the sprite pulled on Manx's arm and reeled his ear down to hear her whisper. “I wouldn't talk to him, he's anti-social behavior."

  "What?” Manx asked under his breath.

  "He's, in essence, negative energy looking for a human host. He says he used to be some guy named Colonel Parker, but I don't believe it."

  "Why not?"

  "He just doesn't seem like the military type."

  "How long have you been here?"