Monster Nanny

by Tuutikki Tolonen

  “How do we know what a monster’s life is like?” Mimi said, and turned back to Grah: “Is it your work colleague?”

  The monster shook its head. Then it raised its hand and patted its chest.

  “Grah,” it grunted. “Grah-ih-Gru.”

  “Yes, yes, your name is Grah, we know. But who is that in the picture?” Mimi spoke to it kindly.

  The monster looked at the children miserably and tapped its chest again. Then it pointed at the book. It was very quiet. Mimi couldn’t think of any others who might be in the picture.

  “Just a minute,” Halley said suddenly. “Could it be . . . Grah, is that you in the picture?”

  Grah shook its head. “Grah,” it again repeated quietly, and touched its chest. “Grah-ih-Gru,” it then said, and pointed at the book.

  “It’s some Grah-ih-something,” Halley said.

  “Is that some Grah-ih-what’s-his-name?” Mimi asked the monster.

  The monster covered its face with its hands and began to sob again, shoulders shaking. Mimi kept stroking its big, dark, dust-shedding shoulders.

  “We need more towels,” Halley said.

  “There, there now,” Mimi said, trying to soothe the monster. “That’s grand, that it’s Grah-ih-something. Someone you know is in Runar’s book. Very nice.”

  The monster wept three more towels full before it stopped. Koby and Halley mopped up the last pools of water off the floor and dumped the towels in the shower. The towels were gray and grimy, as if they had been used to mop up the garden.

  “It must be thirsty,” Halley guessed, looking at the soaked towels. “It’s cried several buckets full of water.”

  “We’ll have to take it outside to drink from some ditch,” Koby said. “But not until it’s dark. To think that Grah knew that old monster. I wonder how many monsters there are? And we never knew a thing.”

  “We did have an idea. You were always scared of monsters,” Halley said, grinning. Koby had always been pretty fearful at night. Koby threw a dirty towel at Halley, but her quick feet dodged it easily.

  “Maybe there are monsters in other people’s homes too,” Halley said. “I think I’ll go on a little expedition.”

  Koby agreed. “Do that.”

  “Hey,” Mimi called from the living room. “Did you hear—there’s a text message on the phone. Maybe it’s from Mom. Go and see! The phone is on the kitchen table.”

  Koby and Halley ran into the kitchen, shoving each other. The phone was in the middle of the table among leftovers and dirty plates.

  “Ugh,” Halley groaned. “The monster sure isn’t very good at cleaning up.”

  “Grah,” Koby corrected her. “Its name is Grah.”

  He picked up the phone and opened the message. “It’s from Mom,” he confirmed.

  “Come in here to read it. I can’t move!” Mimi yelled from the living room.

  “What do you mean you can’t move?” Halley yelled back.

  “I’m having a cuddle with the monster!” Mimi answered happily. “This is a real tight cuddle!”

  “And you are quite dirty,” Halley sniffed from the doorway.

  Mimi looked like she had been caught in a gray sandstorm.

  “Oh, never mind. What does Mom say?” Mimi asked, her cheek against the monster’s shoulder.

  Koby raised the phone and read:

  “Dear children! Is everything all right? Dad has come, hasn’t he? Have you got food? Miss you terribly!! Lapland is beautiful. Breakfast starts soon! Then I’ll know more about the day’s program. Please write! How’s the monster? Miss you, miss you!

  “Love, Mom”

  “OK, let’s reply right away,” Mimi said. “Dear Mom, waiting for Invisible Voice here. The monster is gorgeous! We were out with it last night. Nobody does any cleaning, and the monster cried many buckets of muddy water on the living room floor, but we mopped it up.”

  Koby and Halley exchanged glances.

  “We can’t write that,” Koby said. “Mom’s relaxation holiday would be ruined.”

  Mimi looked at them. “What, then?” she asked.

  “This, for instance,” Koby replied, and began to tap:

  “Hi, Mom! We miss you lots, too. All is well. Monster is nice and looks after us well . . .”

  Halley eyed the monster, who was hugging Mimi. Koby went on writing: “So everything is OK.”

  “Don’t keep saying that everything is OK. It sounds suspicious. Mom will guess that we’re hiding something.”

  “Oh,” Koby said, and deleted the last sentence. “What shall I put, then?”

  Halley snatched the phone and continued with the writing:

  “We have done the cleaning. We have eaten healthy food at proper mealtimes. Broccoli, rye bread, and milk. Hope you are having fun! Dad has not come yet but will be here soon. Write to us again!”

  “But we haven’t done any cleaning or eaten broccoli,” Koby began, but piped down when Halley raised her eyebrows meaningfully.

  “Shall we tell her that the monster has a name?” Mimi suggested with a sneeze as the monster dust went up her nose.

  The monster grunted and shook its head vehemently.

  “Achoo! All right, all right,” Mimi murmured.

  “I’m sending this now,” Halley said, and sent the message.

  “Shall we have some breakfast?” Mimi proposed.

  At that, the monster let go of Mimi and jumped up with surprising agility. It was a nanny monster, after all.

  “And after breakfast, Halley will go and find out if there are monsters in any other homes,” Koby said.

  “I’m coming with you!” Mimi yelled, delighted.

  “You so are not,” Halley said.

  “You can stay with me and Grah to read the monster book,” Koby suggested, trying to keep the peace. “We’ll wait for Invisible Voice. I’m sure he’ll be here in a few hours.”

  Mimi sniffed and studied her gray arms. “No, I’m having a bath instead.”

  Koby and Halley exchanged a look.

  “Good idea,” Halley said.

  CHAPTER 8

  Detective at Work

  HALLEY RANG OSCAR’S DOORBELL for a second time. The sound of the bell could be heard clearly through the door in the stairway. But there was no other sound. It was as quiet as a tomb. No sound of people talking, no footsteps. No background noise from a television. Where was everybody? Not just Oscar, but everyone else, too. Halley’s friends, other people they knew vaguely. Where were they all? Was the whole apartment building empty?

  Oscar’s doorbell was not the first Halley had rung. Why would it be? Halley had never been to Oscar’s home; she only knew where Oscar lived. They played in the school soccer club in wintertime and were in the same class—that was all. But Halley couldn’t think of anybody else whose door she could try. She had already been to the doors of everybody she knew, absolutely everybody.

  Halley pressed the doorbell for a third time. Silence fell in the stairway. Halley sighed and sat down on the stairs. The stairwell was empty and echoing; even the automatic lights would go out soon. Everybody had vanished. And their home would soon vanish in the gray monster dust.

  The lights went out, but Halley didn’t move. What did any of it actually matter? It was just as well to sit in a dark stairway in front of the door of some half-acquaintance. Halley closed her eyes. Inside her head, behind her eyelids, it was just as dark as in the stairway.

  Suddenly there was a rustle. Little bumps, maybe footsteps. More rustling. An interior door was opened somewhere. Halley opened her eyes and turned toward Oscar’s door. There was a cautious click, and Oscar’s mail slot opened slowly. A weak streak of light escaped into the stairway.

  “All dark,” someone whispered. The voice was not a grownup voice. But it wasn’t Oscar’s voice either. “There’s nobody here now. They’ve gone away.”

  Halley was baffled. Were they talking about her? Of course they were. Who else. But why didn’t they want to open the door to her
? How rude!

  The mail slot closed with a slight clack. The talking was fainter now, but you could still make out what was being said. Halley smiled. Mom was right: you should keep the inner door closed if you wanted to tell secrets. Oscar’s mom was not nearly as good an adviser as Halley’s mom.

  Halley got up quietly and carefully pushed open the mail slot.

  “Did you see that? Someone opened the mail slot,” a voice whispered, scared. It sounded like a young child, maybe Oscar’s little sister.

  “You left it open,” someone explained dismissively.

  “I did not,” the first voice whispered. “Somebody’s out there.”

  “A draft opened it,” said Oscar’s voice.

  As soon as Halley heard Oscar’s voice, she knew what to do. Oscar, the school scaredy-cat! Halley remembered one time when all the lights in the soccer club hall had gone out, and Oscar had been so scared that he had almost peed his pants. Especially after Halley had let out particularly frightening howls, just like a horrible, deadly cold ghost . . . Just like she intended to do again right now.

  “Woo . . . wooo-wooooo,” Halley whispered in a voice from the grave into Oscar’s mail slot.

  Somebody let out a scream behind the door. Someone else began to cry. Halley felt a sting in her conscience. She heard Oscar’s voice saying to the others: “Hey, wait, I’ve heard that voice before.”

  Oscar bent down to peek through the mail slot into the dark stairway. “Halley? Is that you?”

  Infuriating! How could Oscar guess that it was her? She had sounded as much like a real ghost as anybody could sound.

  “Woooo . . . woooo . . . ” Halley howled again, so believably that even her own hair stood on end. There was a rustle and suddenly the door opened, much more quickly than Halley had expected.

  “Ouch!” she yelled, holding her nose. “You hit my nose with the door!”

  “That’ll teach you to stand with your nose stuck in our door,” Oscar said. “Quick, get in. You can explain to Alice yourself that you’re not a ghost.”

  Halley slipped inside Oscar’s home. The door closed behind her. It was almost dark; all the venetian blinds were closed. Next to Oscar stood a girl Halley had sometimes seen in the school yard. Someone else’s alarmed crying came from a back room. Halley felt rotten.

  “Alice, come and see. It’s not a ghost, just a girl from our school,” Oscar called. “Now look what you’ve done,” he said to Halley, annoyed.

  “Sorry,” Halley said, and called toward the crying girl, “Alice, it was me! It was just a joke.”

  Then she turned back to Oscar and asked him accusingly: “Why didn’t you answer the door?”

  Oscar and the girl glanced at each other hesitantly. Alice’s tearful face appeared in a doorway near the hall. Halley gave her a friendly wave and turned back to Oscar. Something strange was afoot, that was for sure.

  “Is your mom home?” she asked.

  “No, she isn’t,” Oscar said. “Mom is . . .”

  “. . . at work, of course,” the girl finished, and gave Oscar a meaningful look.

  “Pity,” Halley said, and thought for a moment. She needed a little more information before she could be sure.

  “And your dad?”

  “No, he’s not either. Dad’s at work too,” Oscar went on, a little more naturally now.

  “I’m really thirsty. Could I get some water from the kitchen?” Halley asked.

  “I’ll get it!” Oscar and the girl both shouted quickly.

  “No, I can get it myself,” Halley said calmly, watching their reaction.

  “We can get it!” Oscar and the girl yelled too eagerly, almost desperately.

  Oscar turned on his heel and ran off. Halley stayed in the hall with the girl, who seemed nervous.

  “Do you live here too?” Halley asked.

  “N-no,” the girl answered.

  “So where do you live?” Halley went on.

  “Next door. We’re neighbors. Oscar’s mom and my mom go to Latin dancing together.”

  “Latin dancing,” Halley repeated under her breath, and shook her head. How different the world’s moms were.

  “It’s true,” the girl said defensively.

  “Do you have sisters or brothers? Or a father?” Halley continued questioning.

  “No. I mean, yes, but Mom and I live here just the two of us. Dad lives in another town,” the girl replied.

  Halley nodded. The situation was pretty clear. One more question.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Minnie,” the girl said.

  “Oh, as in Minnie Mouse?” Halley asked.

  The girl sniffed, irritated. “Well, no. It’s a nickname. My real name is Minea.”

  Oscar ran into the hall, water spilling from a glass in his hand.

  “Here you go,” he said, out of breath. “Sorry it took so long, but all the dishes were dirty and I had to wash a glass.”

  Halley took the glass and sipped the water. She watched Minnie and Oscar. Then she looked at the walls. The apartment was so gloomy that you couldn’t see the monster dust, if there was any.

  “Why have you closed all the blinds?” she asked.

  “What do you want?” Oscar asked nervously. “Why did you come?”

  Halley took one more gulp from her glass of water. Then she fixed her gaze on Oscar and Minnie and said: “I came to ask if you have a monster nanny here, too. You see, we have one.”

  Oscar froze to the spot, and Minnie took such a deep breath that she had a coughing fit.

  “Here, drink some water,” Halley said, handing Minnie the glass.

  CHAPTER 9

  The Monster’s Nocturnal Habits

  KOBY PICKED UP THE book off the floor and brushed the worst of the monster dust from its cover. Monsters: Characteristics and Qualities of the Species in Light of My Experiences, by Runar Kalli.

  With the book under his arm, he walked into the bedroom and flopped onto the beanbag chair. He could hear Mimi’s voice from the bathroom. She was having a discussion with her bathrobe again.

  At that moment, Koby was not interested or even bothered. He had other things to do. He intended to study Runar Kalli’s book, because they needed more information.

  Koby opened the book and stroked its yellowed flyleaf. Runar had been a brave man. He had written his book despite knowing that nobody would believe a word of it. Only now had the book found a reader who understood its worth. Koby scanned the table of contents, taking his time.

  Halley may be right, he thought. In an emergency, it was sensible to read a book in many places at the same time. The idea felt odd, even a little reckless, but exceptional circumstances demanded exceptional measures. There were many things to which Koby wanted answers. For example: Why did the monster want to go into the closet to stand there, eyes closed, if it didn’t sleep? Koby’s eyes stopped at Chapter 5 of Part II (“Real Monsters”): “The Monster’s Appearance and Characteristics.”

  Koby turned the pages until he got to the beginning of the chapter. He read:

  In appearance, monsters resemble humans to a surprising degree. Maybe this observation is shocking, as we do not want to believe that we have any connection with monsters and other legendary beings. However, the relationship is probably only distant, since there are also significant differences, as we will see later.

  The monster’s body shape can be described as sturdy. The height of the monster I studied was six feet at the time of measuring, and its weight so amazingly great that my scale, going up to 300 pounds, was insufficient to weigh it.

  The monster’s hands and feet are large. The foot is rounded in shape, about 12 inches in diameter. There are four toes on the feet, and on each toe is a shortish, not very sharp nail. One could almost say a human-like nail, but bigger in size. The skin of the sole is very thick, and the monster does not appear to feel cold or pain through it.

  The hands are almost as big as the feet, if measured from the tips of the thick, strong fi
ngers. The fingers are all the same thickness and length, and there are four of them, too. It should be noted that the monster’s fingers have one joint more than those of humans. The monster’s joints also bend not only toward the palm, but also sideways. Thus, the monster’s fingers bend strangely from the human point of view, resembling bendy monkey tails.

  Koby lifted his head from the book. Monkey tails! Runar used unusual comparisons. Koby read on.

  The monster’s head is large in relation to the rest of its body. The shape of the head is round. The strangest feature in the monster’s face is its eyes. They are the size of apples and yellowish green in color. They roll and move from side to side at amazing speed. Their movements are not always simultaneous with each other. One might ask whether or not a monster can look in two different directions at the same time.

  The teeth are typical herbivore teeth . . .

  Koby stopped reading and scanned the page. All this he already knew. He, like Runar, had seen a monster with his own eyes. He turned to the next page and started reading.

  . . . coat is covered with a special layer of dust, which is much more than the consequence of a messy way of life. The dust crystallizes the monster’s nocturnal appearance, its ability to disappear into shadows and turn invisible in the right kind of twilight . . .

  Koby repeated: “the monster’s nocturnal appearance.” What was that? Had they seen a glimpse of it in the forest the night before? When the monster suddenly froze and almost disappeared? Koby carried on reading.

  . . . attempted to wash its left arm, or rather take the monster into the sauna to wash off the layer of dust. But the monster approached this operation with hostility and unwillingness, and therefore it was a failure. It was the only time I felt threatened in the monster’s company. It reared up to its full height, raised its fists, and roared like a lion. Its eyes rolled like goldfish in a glass bowl . . .