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Finding Monsters

Page 1

by Liss Thomas




  Finding Monsters

  Guardians of Esurack

  Liss Thomas

  Copyright © 2012 Liss Thomas

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1-4783-3093-7

  ISBN-13: 9781478330936

  Dedication:

  I dedicate this novel to my wonderful husband, Brent and our parents. And special thanks to my favorite aunt Jean

  Acknowledgments:

  Thank you to everyone who encouraged me during the writing process. Also, I would like to give a special thank you to my editor, beta readers, and my list of growing fans!

  PART ONE

  THE HUMAN

  Chapter 1

  I knew I was dying. It’s weird the doctor felt the need to explain that to me. I hear him outside my bedroom talking to my mother, encouraging her to move me to a hospice. My mother refuses with hot indignation. I picture her flailing her arms and insisting I stay with the family ‘during this difficult time’. Truth is I’ve never really lived. I look around my bedroom, and where most teens have a stereo, sits a monitor for all the little gizmos attached to my body. No cool friendship beads or Hawaiian leis decorate the posts of my bed, just two IV drips with drug cocktails potent enough to subdue a lumberjack. Of course, it’s the drugs that make the disease bearable. Not completely free from pain, but the numbness helps. I hear my mother at the door again. She sneaks in silently just in case I’m asleep. I’m not.

  “You’re still awake, Missy?” she asks, brushing her fingertips across my brow.

  “Yes, Mom, I’m not really tired right now.” But I’m always tired and I sleep most of the day. I just enjoy looking out the window when the sun is bright and the clouds are scarce. I love watching the birds perch on the feeder that hangs from my window. They are my entertainment, and currently there is a rose finch noshing my seeds. I can’t sleep through this.

  “Do you need anything, sweetheart?”

  “No. I’m fine. I know you have things to do. Don’t worry about me, Mom.” I try to sound cheerful so she won’t worry, but I know she’s in a constant state of worry. Flashing my bravest smile, I reach for her hand. I don’t wince, even though it is painful to move my stiff limbs. She holds my hand and kisses it before releasing her grip and retreating from the room. I can tell she’s going to cry again. I blow out a huge sigh.

  A cool rush of air blows across my face. It feels good. The antiquated oscillating fan was my idea. The ceiling fan kept me too cool but the floor fan blows air every few minutes making the air pleasant. The gust is strong enough to lift papers from the bedside table. The whoosh and crackle they produce bring back a memory, making me wince. Funny what you think of at times like this. The sound sends me back to my earlier childhood. I’m gripping the covers and stifling sobs into my pillow as I hear the other children playing outside my window, knowing I could never join them. Sometimes I would hear another sound coming from under the bed. As a child, I thought it was a monster. I was right. He’d softly call my name and ask if I could play with him. Once, I had the courage to look under the bed with a flashlight. Only the dust bunnies and missing socks greeted me, but I still heard his voice.

  “Missy, come to me; let’s play.”

  Sometimes I would answer him. “I can’t today; I’m sick.” He would grow silent but I felt sure he never left. I laugh to myself thinking back on those memories and I swear I hear the monster calling me again.

  “Missy, come to me. Let’s play,” he calls from his hiding place.

  My muscles strain and it’s getting harder to breathe but I wheeze out, “I can’t today. I’m sick.” This time I’m startled to hear the monster laugh at me.

  “Please come play,” he says.

  It’s funny how I’ve never been afraid of him. I decide I should meet my mysterious monster before he stops calling or before I am unable to answer him. I ease into a sitting position and pull the covers away from my useless legs. Pushing them until my feet touch the floor, I wrap my frail arms around the bedpost and slide down. I lay there a moment, catching my breath. It is cooler on the hardwood floor and it soothes my burning body. I lift my hand and tuck the bed ruffles under the mattress so I can see under the bed. Expecting to see the normal empty darkness, I’m stunned to see a pool of shimmering blue light rippling and sparkling bright. A hand extends from the center of the pool, gnarled, boney and beckoning me to come. I reach under the bed with my hand, boney and unusually gnarled for my age, the ravages of my disease evident.

  “Come, Missy,” he says as he reaches toward me.

  “Alright,” I manage between gasps, sliding my hand into his. Our skin touches, and his old, crippled hand regains its youth. My hand strengthens and I can actually take a firm grip. Light spills quickly from the pool, engulfing me. The shimmering blue light is quiet, comfortable, and for once, I feel no pain. As the light fades, I find I am staring down at my body. I look shockingly lifeless, eyes closed, hands still, one reaching under the bed. My hair is pulled back from my face in a loose ponytail. I’m glad I didn’t lose my hair. The blonde curls reminded my mother of Shirley Temple. They’ve lost their luster over the years and the color has dulled, not that I’m complaining. I look much smaller than I imagined I would, more skeletal than anything, as my Hello Kitty pajamas hang loose around my frame. My face is thin, the roundness of my cheeks gone. There is a smile on my face; I look at peace.

  “We don’t have much time.”

  I jump at the sound of my monster beside me. We perch on the bedside dresser. I turn to see him for the first time. He is a giant swallowtail butterfly with gold and black wings. “You’re not the monster I expected,” I say smiling.

  He motions to the small reflection from my clock radio. “Look at yourself.”

  I turn to look at my reflection and am stunned to see I am also a giant swallowtail. I turn sideways to get a good look at my wings. I’m not as pretty as he is, but… my thoughts trail off and I whirl around. “Can I really fly?” I ask, without wheezing, I notice.

  “Flap your wings and give it a try, but we must hurry.”

  I watch my companion and follow his example. We hover over the dresser and a rush of energy fills my soul. I follow him as he makes his way to a vent in the ceiling. We flutter through and come out an attic vent. Once outside, he sits on the branch of an oak tree. I settle beside him, and he shows me how to spread my wings and soak up the warm sunshine. I glance around at the beautiful summer day. The tree we land on holds my bird feeder. A small yellow finch eyes us greedily but decides on the seeds instead. The sky is cloud free, making the day perfect. I inhale deeply and catch the wonderful scent of flowers nearby. I exhale without experiencing a fit of coughing. I can hardly contain my excitement so I turn to my monster to tell him but then remember I don’t know his name.

  “What’s your name?” I ask.

  He glances my way and gives me a smile only an insect could love. Wiggling his antennae at me he says, “I really don’t have a name. Do I need one?”

  “I have to call you something. You call me by my name all the time. Maybe I can just call you Charlie; I’ve always liked that name.”

  “If that pleases you, then you may call me Charlie,” he says.

  I give him the best smile I can muster then we fly off together in search of nectar. We glide with ease across the sky, spotting all sorts of fragrant flowers. Charlie says he is taking me to a special place where the flowers have the sweetest nectar. I follow him and am surprised when we land in a cemetery. We make for a cluster of tulips, daisies, and pansies. Laughing, we drink our fill of the sweet liquid. The flavors are distinctly different but I like the tulips the best. After gorging ourselves, we travel high up in the nearby branches and sun our wings. We sit in silence for such a long ti
me, I think Charlie is sleeping but then he begins to speak.

  “Your body is dying, the one you left behind.”

  “I know,” I say. “How long do I have?”

  “A few days, maybe. They are moving you to a hospital now.” Charlie keeps his eyes averted as he answers, not quite looking at me, staring out at nothing.

  “How long can I stay like this?” I ask the question but somehow already know the answer.

  “The same length of time your body stays alive, but you will be free from the pain this way.” Charlie lays his antennae on mine, and it’s as though we are holding hands. “Enough of this, it’s time to play!” Charlie says, bouncing up from the branch and twittering around me.

  “Yes, let’s play!” I say, joining him.

  We sail high above the ground and coast on warm currents of air. I marvel as the scenery changes and then I see the Pacific Ocean. It’s far more beautiful than any pictures I’ve seen of it. So many things I’ve never experienced as a human are possible now. I tingle with excitement at the many things I may be able to experience. Maybe now I can live. We drop down and skim the top of the waves and flutter around each other in an aerial game of tag. We chase, dodge, and fly as fast as we can. We spot a small group of fruit trees and head for them. Other insects are busy eating, and we annoy them as best we can. After several throw their insect insults at us, we leave. We laugh so hard it is difficult to fly straight. Nighttime approaches swiftly and I wonder how the time went so fast. Back in my room, time’s slow pace is maddening. Now, free from my body, the day has flown past like a hummingbird in flight. We head back to the cemetery for a light dinner and a place to sleep. The inside of a tree hollow is cozy when shared. Listening to a breeze rustling in the background provides the perfect lullaby, and soon we are fast asleep.

  Chapter 2

  I wake early as the dawn flashes its way across our tree. I don’t feel as good as the day before but remarkably better than most of my life. My wings droop with the morning dew and I lack energy. Suddenly, I realize the hollow is empty of Charlie. My heart skips in panic.

  “You need to sun yourself and you will feel better, Missy,” Charlie says as he flutters back in to check on me. I let out the breath I’m holding and follow him out onto a branch. We sit side by side and wait in serene silence for the sun to dry our dew-laden wings and energize us. He is right. As the sun warms me, I feel better. We spread our wings as far as they will go and soak in the heat. I daydream about the previous day’s fun and can’t possibly think of anything better to do.

  Then I think of my life as a human. Born a frail and sickly baby, doctors marveled at the fact I lived this long. I inwardly laugh at myself. I’m only fifteen years old. I’ve never played like other children. My ability to walk diminished at age ten with the full decline of my health starting. I would never run, swim, or turn a cartwheel. I would never go on a date with a boy, or kiss …

  “What’s wrong, Missy?” Charlie is watching me, concern showing in his posture.

  “I can’t help thinking of all the things I will never do as a human. I’ve never really done anything a normal kid would do. Nothing. Now I am going to die not knowing any of the simple joys in life. I wanted to try it all, Charlie. To run, play, dance, jump.” I trail off not wanting to spoil our time together. Charlie studies me for several minutes in silence. I want to apologize for ruining the day.

  “I can show you what you want but it will cost you,” he says.

  I hope. His words set my tiny heart on fire. My antennae perk up in anticipation. I want to ask him how but that’s dumb. I’m a butterfly now and hadn’t even asked how that happened. So I ask the only other logical question. “What will it cost me?”

  “For two hours as a normal human, it will cost you a day of life,” Charlie explains.

  “So, if we do this… ” I hedge.

  “You will die tomorrow.”

  I swallow hard and consider the offer. It’s not a hard choice to make. I want this. I’m going to die anyway so it would be worth it to just once, know what it’s like. Then a sickening thought occurs to me. I turn to face Charlie. He isn’t making eye contact with me as he concentrates deeply on the tree branch we’re sitting on. “Will it cost you anything?” I ask my butterfly friend. He seems hesitant to answer. Turning aside, he flutters a few wingspans away. I follow and settle beside him again. I lightly touch my antennae to his. “Tell me,” I whisper.

  “I want to do this for you at whatever cost to me. It will be worth it.”

  He doesn’t answer my question, but I know what he would say. “No, Charlie, not if it means your life too.”

  “I want this, Missy. I want you to be happy, just for once. Normal just once, please.” Charlie leans his head to mine and slowly intertwines our antennae. He watches my eyes for an answer. “Please.”

  “Ok.” I don’t even think the sound comes out but Charlie beams at me and twitches his nose against mine. I smile, head butt my friend, and leap into the air. “So what do we do first?” I yell back at him.

  Charlie quickly catches up and leads me to a secluded meadow. It is postcard perfect with wildflowers of every kind blanketing the ground and filling the air with their intoxicating fragrances. On the way, Charlie explains the rules to me. We cannot allow any other humans to see us. We cannot interact with anyone and we have to change back in two hours or we will cease to exist. I agree as we circle the meadow and land in the middle of a large daisy. Charlie looks up to gauge the time then enfolds his wings around me. The same light I saw under my bed surrounds us. I feel the change this time as my limbs elongate and my features return. I watch as Charlie transforms into a young man. His dark brown hair is blowing across his forehead and his greyish blue eyes are intently watching me. I reach up to touch his face and notice my hands are no longer sickly but youthful and smooth. My clothing changes from my Hello Kitty PJs to a light sweater and khaki shorts. Charlie is dressed in a simple black t-shirt and jeans.

  “I wish I could see what I look like,” I say, still rubbing Charlie’s cheek with my hand.

  “You look beautiful.” He leans forward, his lips inches from mine and says, “Let’s play!” Charlie springs to his feet and runs around the field with his arms out, airplane style. I am more cautious as I rise to my feet. I can hardly believe it! I’m standing and steady. I have energy!

  “Come on!” Charlie yells, and I run after him. I laugh at the top of my voice and hoot as I chase Charlie around the field. I catch him once, and then I am ‘it’. I run like a rabbit across the meadow with Charlie close behind trying to catch me.

  “You’ll not catch me today, my friend. Didn’t you know? I can fly!” We race around the field and through the dense trees for almost an hour. Charlie stops and looks up again, then sprints toward me and catches me in an embrace. We slip on the decaying leaves underneath the mammoth trees and land in a heap on the ground. I cannot contain my laughter as we both lay on our backs, panting for breath and clutching each other’s hand. We lay there, staring up into the treetop, remembering the joy of flying and the feel of the wind on our insect faces. Charlie pulls me into a sitting position and gives me a wicked smile.

  “You’ll like this,” he says, generating the shimmering blue light with his hands. He produces a picnic lunch complete with checkered red and white tablecloth and a wicker basket with delicious aromas wafting from it. Opening it, he pulls out small cheese sandwiches and fruit. We dig in and eat several sandwiches apiece then devour the grapes and bananas too.

  “Tell me something about yourself, Charlie.”

  “I’m not really sure I’m supposed to tell you, but I come from a different world. The creatures there are strange but the landscape is breathtaking. There are portals between our worlds that appear in dark places. My clan guards these passageways from those who would find them the easiest, children. They are fearless.”

  “So you pretend to be monsters and scare them from checking too closely under their beds or in dark c
losets so they don’t find these passages?” I ask.

  “It sounds weird, but yes. Only a few have the monster ability of the blue light to travel between worlds. Our clan is the guardian of that ability.”

  “It sounds like a fairytale,” I say, not sure if Charlie is serious.

  “Many of your fairytales come from our world, like trolls and dragons”

  “They’re real?”

  “Oh yes, very much so,” Charlie says. He packs up the picnic, making it melt away in the blue light. He then conjures up music from nowhere. Soft waltz music starts to play. He pulls me to my feet and holds me close. “Time for some dancing,” he says to me as he explains a few waltz steps. We start slow, allowing me to get the rhythm and then we twirl faster. I laugh at my clumsy dance moves. Charlie just smiles and continues to spin me in circles. The music changes to a slower beat. Charlie pulls me even closer, and we start swaying to the soft mellow tune. He leans into my hair and inhales deeply, remembering, whispering, “I watched you for such a long time from my hiding place under your bed. So many times I’ve called to you. The times you replied, caused my heart to soar above even the heavens. The times you did not left me in despair so great; I thought I would evaporate from the pain. Now, you are here, happy, healthy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.” Wordlessly, he leans in and kisses me. His lips are sweet like the nectar and soft as a flower’s petal. His arms surround me. I have never kissed a boy before, and I am glad I now have the chance. Tingles race through me. I run my fingers through his hair and hold him close. I pull back to stare at him. He’s been with me through all of my illnesses and now, in the span of a few days, he’s shown me life, happiness, and love.

  “Thank you for everything,” I whisper to him. He kisses me again then looks high above the trees. His expression tells me that time is short. I can sense it also. I pull him into another long embrace, my tears salting each kiss as I brush against his soft petal lips.

 

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