Dweller
Page 21
Garrett seemed hesitant, but Toby nudged him. “Go ahead.”
“Owen, are you going to eat me?”
No.
“Owen,” said Toby, “are we best friends?”
Yes.
“And are you and Garrett going to be friends?”
Yes.
“And would you ever do anything to hurt Garrett?”
No.
“See, Garrett. He understands. Ask him something else.”
“Owen, is one plus one two?”
Owen didn’t respond.
“Smart-ass,” said Toby. “I didn’t teach him addition. Ask him a real question.”
“That was a real question!” Garrett insisted. “Owen, could you get loose if you wanted?”
No.
“Ask him his favorite food,” Toby urged.
“Owen, what’s your favorite food?”
Owen mimed scooping a spoon into a bowl.
“That means ice cream.”
“I like ice cream, too,” Garrett said. “What’s your favorite flavor?”
“He likes strawberry,” Toby said. “But I don’t think he much cares one way or another, as long as it’s ice cream. Sort of like your mom with pie.”
“I like mint chocolate chip,” Garrett told Owen. “There was one kind of mint chocolate chip that Daddy brought home one time that I didn’t like, but usually it’s my favorite.”
“Isn’t he cool?” Toby asked.
“He’s supercool. Does Mommy know?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“She’d be scared.”
“But he wouldn’t hurt her.”
“I know, but you can be scared of things that wouldn’t hurt you. You have to admit, it’s kind of weird to have a best friend who’s a monster in the woods, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“We’re a couple of weirdos!”
“Yeah! Big weirdos!”
“Big weirdo dorks! But that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with being weird. Do you know anybody else who has a monster friend?”
“No way!”
“You think the kids at school would be jealous?”
“Yeah! I bet nobody would pick on me if they knew.”
“They sure wouldn’t. But you can’t tell them.”
Garrett rolled his eyes. “I know. You’ve already told me a bazillion times.”
“So I’m telling you a bazillion and one times.”
“Can I touch him?”
“No.”
“Next time?”
“Maybe.”
“You’re going to bring me back again, right?”
“I sure am.” Toby gave his son a hug. “You’d better believe it.”
Garrett talked nonstop about his new monster friend as they walked home. Toby was absolutely elated—giddy, even. In fact, it was a good thing that he had to immediately turn back around to unfasten Owen’s chains, or Sarah might question his emotional state.
“You can go in and play Nintendo, or read a book,” Toby said.
“I’ll play Nintendo.”
“Or draw.”
“Nintendo.”
“Fine. Have fun.”
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Toby asked, unfastening the collar around Owen’s neck.
Hurts.
“Yeah, it looks like it chafed a bit. I’m sorry, buddy. There’s nothing else I can do. You liked seeing Garrett, though, right?”
Loved it.
“Well, he loved you, too. When I’m dead and buried, you and he can hang out just like we do. If you didn’t have those damn hooks for fingernails we could bring out his handheld video game and you guys could play together.”
He unfastened the strap around Owen’s right wrist. The monster immediately began to lick the area.
“I know, I know, it hurts. Was it worth it?”
Yes.
“Good.”
Again?
“Yes. All the time now.”
“So what did you two do today?” asked Sarah, plopping a large spoonful of mashed potatoes onto Garrett’s dinner plate.
“Cool stuff.”
“Well, I know that! What kind of cool stuff?”
“It’s a secret.”
“A secret from your own mom? That’s not allowed!”
Garrett put a hand over his mouth and giggled.
Sarah gave him a mock-stern glare. “This is no He-Man Women Hater’s club, bucko. What trouble did you two get into?”
“Ummmmm. Dad showed me naked boobies.”
“What?”
“He’s kidding,” Toby said.
“Naked boooooobies in a magazine!”
“You’d better not have shown him anything like that,” Sarah told Toby.
“I would never expose our child to breasts. I don’t know what that little bozo is talking about. What are you talking about, bozo?”
“At school, Jimmy Wilson said that his dad had a stack of magazines with naked boobies, and he left them right in the bathroom.”
“Well, Jimmy Wilson’s dad is a pervert,” Toby said. “Naked boobies are evil. They should be banned.”
“What’s a pervert?”
“This is not appropriate dinner-table conversation,” said Sarah. “And naked boobs are not evil, they just shouldn’t be shown to an eight-year-old boy.”
“I didn’t show him any!”
“I know, but don’t talk about it.”
“The bozo brought it up!”
“I was just kidding,” said Garrett. “We went to look at some stupid moss.”
“Oh, well, I’m sorry that the moss wasn’t as exciting as your video games, your highness.”
“It sure wasn’t.”
Toby kicked him under the table.
“I’m glad you were able to keep a secret,” said Toby as he
tucked Garrett into bed. “But you really need to work on
a better cover story.”
“Will Owen be okay out there by himself?”
“Yeah. Owen will be fine. He’s been out there for a long, long time.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Visiting Owen had always been inconvenient because of the distance. It became much worse when Toby had to walk out there, chain him up (Owen never fought against the process but made his displeasure quite clear), go back home and get Garrett, walk to Owen’s place for the visit, walk Garrett back, return to the shack, unchain Owen, and walk back home. It was ridiculous.
By the fourth visit, he just made Toby wait for him a short but safe distance back. He’d been friends with the monster since the 1960s—Owen wasn’t going to suddenly jump out of nowhere, grab Garrett and run off.
“Can I pet him?” Garrett asked, as he’d asked on every previous visit.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Why do you think?”
“But he wouldn’t do anything to me. You wouldn’t do anything bad, would you, Owen?”
No.
Toby chuckled. “Still not gonna happen.”
“Okay, we’re going to walk up to him very slowly. Don’t make any sudden moves. Think of him like a lion in a cage.”
“He could kill any lion.”
“Yes, he could. And he could rip a little boy’s head off as easy as snapping his fingers.”
Garrett grinned and snapped his fingers.
“We’re done. You’re not taking this seriously.”
“But Dad—!”
“I said we’re done.”
“He’s probably the most talented in the class,” said Mrs. Kingston. “Look at the detail on that. A lot of kids his age haven’t progressed beyond stick figures.”
“He’s always loved to draw,” said Sarah, beaming with pride.
Toby nodded. It was a wonderful, accurate drawing, and there was a little boy who was going to get a very stern lecture tonight.
“Part of keeping a secret involves not drawing pictures of Owen to turn in for a class project,�
� Toby explained.
“I didn’t tell anybody he was real.”
“I realize that, but it looks just like him. What if somebody asks you how you drew it so well?”
“They already did. I said I made him up. He’s a monster.”
“Right, but…do you think the president draws pictures of secret nuclear weapon stockpiles?” Toby could feel the logic of his argument slipping away. “Just don’t draw Owen any more, okay?”
“Okay.”
“But we’ll show him this picture. He’ll love it.”
“Careful. Be very careful.”
One month and ten visits later, they walked toward Owen again. Owen stood in his chains, arms at his sides, head lowered slightly as if to say, “I’m a humble, harmless creature.”
While Garrett stayed back a few feet, Toby moved right up to Owen and stroked his fur. “Yeah, you’re a good boy, right? The best buddy ever. It’s going to be a pleasant experience for everybody. No gore at all. Is everybody calm and happy?”
Yes.
“One more time: you’re a good boy, right?”
“You’re treating him like a dog,” Garrett said.
“I’m being cautious.”
“He doesn’t like that, though. He’s smarter than a dog.”
“Yeah, and he’s also got way bigger claws and teeth than a dog, and as your father I’m allowed to be overprotective. Put your mask on.”
“This is stupid.”
“Mask.”
“Yes, sir.” Garrett put on the mask, which completed his baseball catcher’s uniform. It wasn’t as good as a suit of armor, but if Owen did lash out unexpectedly, this would help protect him from scratches. Toby would much rather have his son look like a fool than risk having this encounter end with bloodshed.
“Gloves, too.”
Garrett put on the thick, padded gloves without protest.
“All right. Come on up.”
Garrett stood there for a moment, as if working up his courage.
“You can take as long as you need.”
It took Garrett another couple of minutes. Then he stepped forward, reached out, and gently touched Owen with his index finger.
“Easy,” Toby warned Owen, even though Owen hadn’t moved.
Garrett moved a bit closer, then began to pet Owen’s arm. The monster remained docile.
“Isn’t that cool?” Toby asked.
“Not with the gloves.”
“Okay, you can take the gloves off. But that’s it.”
Garrett pulled off the gloves and shoved them back into his pocket. He ran his fingers through Owen’s fur. “He’s got bugs on him.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You should give him a bath.”
“Do you want a monster or a poodle?”
“A monster.”
“He’s got lots of knots in his hair, too. I haven’t been combing him as much as I used to.”
“Can I do it?”
“Not today. But you can someday.”
“I like him.”
“Me, too. Okay, that’s enough for now.”
As Garrett stepped away, Owen signed: Friend.
“He says you’re his friend,” said Toby.
Garrett smiled and made the friend sign back.
“Why can’t we go see him?” Garrett asked.
“Do you know what ‘arousing suspicion’ means?”
Garrett considered that. “It means people think you’re doing something bad?”
“Pretty much. If we go out there too often, then your mother will question what we’re up to, and then there’s a bigger chance that she’ll find out about Owen. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah.” Garrett looked disappointed.
“I’d be out there with Owen all day, every day if I could be. Heck, I’d have him move in with us, give him his own bedroom. But since we can’t, we have to be careful.”
“Okay.”
Toby had to admit to himself that it probably wasn’t a very good parenting technique to give his child advice on how to avoid arousing suspicion in his parent when breaking the rules, but this wasn’t a normal situation. There was nothing better than the excitement in Garrett’s eyes when they went off to see Owen, and he couldn’t risk Sarah finding out.
“We’ll go tomorrow, though. I promise.”
“Can Hannah come with us sometime?”
“Not until she’s eight.”
As they approached the shack, Toby realized that it had been over three months since he’d visited Owen by himself for any reason except to fasten the chains. It was a wonderful realization.
“Oooh, yeah, you’re getting a welt there,” Toby said, inspecting Owen’s right wrist. “Maybe we can pad it somehow. Do you think they sell fuzzy handcuffs in your size?”
Owen either didn’t get the joke, or didn’t find it amusing. Toby suspected the latter.
“We’ll leave one of them off, just for today. Will that make you happy?”
Yes.
Owen kept his arm at his side the entire time, just as Toby knew he’d do.
It was cruel to keep his best friend chained up like this. Sure, Owen loved getting to interact with somebody besides Toby (excluding the unfortunate animals he killed for food) but these conditions were becoming tiring. It was sadistic, as if he were bringing his son to gape at the sideshow freak every three or four days.
Regardless, it was several more months before Toby felt comfortable enough to let Garrett see him without the chains.
1996
There was no danger.
None at all.
Owen was gentle, even when Garrett started roughhousing with him a bit. Yes, Toby had to call for them to stop a couple of times—okay, a few times—when the game of tag got too feisty, but his son was far rowdier than his monster. Owen played with him like a grandfather might—having fun, but always aware that he was the adult and Garrett was the child and that it was his responsibility to make sure Garrett didn’t get hurt.
Garrett loved feeding him. He’d toss popcorn and beef jerky and jelly beans into his mouth, and Owen would show off his impressive catching abilities with far more glee than he’d ever shown with Toby. It was as if having a kid around made the monster feel young again.
“We should build a roller coaster out here for him,” said Garrett.
“No way. How much do you think a big guy like him pukes? We can’t be cleaning that up all day.” He playfully tapped Garrett on the head. “Use your brain, boy.”
“What about a merry-go-round?”
“No offense to Owen, but if I build a merry-go-round, it’s going to be for your sister.”
“She could use it, too.”
“How about we build him a chair? A rocking chair. You exhaust the hell out of the poor guy, and he needs something to relax in after you’re gone.”
Yes.
Garrett was fascinated by Owen’s love for ice cream, but not a fan of the process of lugging an ice-filled cooler out there to provide his friend with a nonmelted treat. However, once the first snow fell, the three of them scooped snow into bowls, added syrup, and had homemade slushies.
“Are you sure I can’t bring him to school?”
“You will never, ever be allowed to take him to school. He’s not a show-and-tell project.”
“What about his tooth?”
“No.” Owen had lost another tooth, and Garrett had volunteered to keep it under his pillow and split the unquestionably huge Tooth Fairy payout with Owen. Toby explained that the Tooth Fairy’s payment process was not based on tooth size, and that, no, he could not put the tooth under his pillow, and no, he could not bring it home, and actually, he shouldn’t even be touching it because, no offense to Owen, it was a nasty, smelly tooth.
“Will I ever be allowed to come out here by myself?” Garrett asked.
“Sure.”
“When?”
“When I’m dead.”
“But that’s going to be a long time!”
“ ‘Gosh, Daddy, I hope I get to see Owen by myself tomorrow!’”
“Garrett!”
“I was joking!”
“Did you think it was a funny joke? Do you think it makes me feel good to hear you say things like that? Both you and Owen will be really sad if I die.”
“I said I was only kidding! Jeez!”
“I don’t care if you were kidding or not. There are some things you don’t joke about. I think it’s time to go home.”
Garrett folded his arms over his chest. “I’m staying.”
“No, you’re not. And if you keep up that attitude, I won’t bring you back.”
“Then I’ll tell everyone.”
Toby simultaneously wanted to throttle his son, and double over and throw up. “What did you say?”
“I’ll tell.”
“You’ll tell, huh? You’ll break your promise to me? Your blood promise?”
“There wasn’t any blood.”
“You know what I mean. I know that you’re just kidding, that you wouldn’t really tell anybody, but it’s really horrible of you to say something like that, even when you’re mad. What do you think they’ll do to Owen if they find him?”
“I don’t know.”
“They’ll kill him. They’ll cut him apart and study him. Is that what you want to happen to your best friend?”
Garrett looked mortified. “No.”
“Then you need to apologize to him.”
“I’m sorry, Owen,” Garrett said in a very soft voice.
“And apologize to me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re not coming back for two weeks. And no Nintendo.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
1997. Age 52.
“Has Owen ever eaten anybody? Hey, Owen, have you ever eaten anybody?”