13 Drops of Blood

by James Roy Daley

  And the people couldn’t get over the size of the rat.

  It wasn’t big; it was huge.

  To put it in perspective, a 290-pound rat is the size of a full-grown hog. People thought he captured the damn thing.

  And they were thankful––none more so than Helga Whitman.

  Helga was the first to call Jon a hero.

  She said, “Can you imagine that monster finding you face down in the garden? Good Lord, it’d swallow you whole! Jon is a hero for capturing that abomination, a true hero! He should get a metal!”

  It was later––after she discovered that Jonathan was responsible for growing the animal––that she formed God’s People.

  She hated Jon then, felt like a fool too.

  For the first few weeks Jon enjoyed his fame; he never thought people would react the way they did. It made him happy, but it also made him worried. He had the feeling that if people discovered the truth about the rat he might be in hot water.

  Monk agreed; he felt it too.

  So the two men decided to keep a lid on the science part of Jon’s zoo. Problem was, Jonathan’s experiments weren’t exactly a secret, and in time the information leaked and everybody knew the truth. Fortunately, it was a slow leak, and people didn’t seem to care.

  Except for the perfect ten, that is. And they cared enough for everybody.

  * * *

  The second event sold two-hundred-and-two tickets, $101.00 at the door. Monk’s cut was $25.50; he couldn’t have been happier.

  But this time it wasn’t a rat; it was an 850-pound lizard.

  The lizard looked like a dinosaur and ran around the Pit with so much speed and might that people thought it would jump free and kill them all. It gave one hell of a fine performance. The spectators went home happy and filled with astonishment.

  After that, things sort of went into production.

  Jonathan hired Bill Watt and his brother Ted to build a permanent cage over the top portion of the Pit so the animals couldn’t escape. (After the lizard’s little run around the park, escape seemed very possible.) The men also built permanent cages inside the Pit for the rat, the lizard and whatever came next, sparing no expense. After the cages were finished, they started installing seats around The Pit’s rim. They were nicely crafted, made of leather. And they weren’t costing Monk anything, so he was all for it.

  The Pit sat empty most of the year; there were a few dances, the odd wedding, and the annual Monk Town auction. But Bingo was held in Town Hall not Town Pit, and when it came right down to it––if August rented Town Pit ten times a year (at three dollars a day) he considered himself lucky.

  Ten times three equals thirty bucks.

  And Jonathan had given $44.00 inside a ten-week span.

  So, as far as August was concerned, the Pit was Jonathan’s zoo now. The weddings, the auction, and whatever else came down the pipe, could take place at Town Hall––end of discussion.

  * * *

  The third event was announced fourteen weeks later. It showcased a 330-pound bullfrog; they sold 260 tickets. Six weeks later they showcased an 800-pound turtle and sold another 296 tickets. That was a total of 556 tickets and $278.00 at the gate.

  Monk put $69.50 in his pocket.

  He figured he’d soon be rich.

  Unfortunately the turtle never moved and people went home displeased.

  Jon felt that his reputation had taken a beating, his pride too. So he turned things up a notch and mutated something more dangerous: a wolf. By opening night the man-eater was 900 pounds and looked like a water buffalo. Its eyeteeth were four inches long and its snout was the length of your arm. It could easily bite a man in half.

  Five hundred and twenty people lined up to see the wolf, nearly double the amount that came for the turtle. People saved for weeks, and Jon raised the admission price to sixty cents. It was a bold move considering the disappointing reviews the turtle received, but in the end the gamble paid off.

  520 times 60¢ was $312.00.

  Monk’s cut was $78.00.

  It was right around then that God’s People started getting organized.

  And Jon came up with his cage-match idea.

  * * *

  Helga Whitman, the woman who first labeled Jon a hero, was Monk Town’s local Bible thumper. She was tall and gangly and her feet looked like snowshoes. Her knuckles were white and somehow bloodless looking; her hands were forever balled into fists. She had a husband named Dale, who had a face like a turnip and tragically bugged-out eyes. He acted like he wore the pants in the family, which, of course, he didn’t. But nobody cared one way or the other so nobody disputed it. The pair made a fine couple. He was stupid and she was obnoxious. And for Helga and Dale, the campaign against Jonathan’s zoo started at home.

  They had three children: Betty, Bailey and Mandy. All of them were girls. All of them were as ugly as the back end of a cow; poor things never had a chance, really. At eight, ten, and eleven years of age, what the hell did they know about right and wrong and the lay of the land? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing.

  They were the first to be recruited.

  Next on the campaign trail was Walter and Ruth Huppert.

  Walter had a face like a hamster and Ruth was so fat she made her own clothing. Everything she wore looked like a sack. The two of them combined weren’t bright enough to peel a bag of potatoes… and they had nine children. The youngest was two and the oldest was sixteen, and of course, the sixteen-year-old had two children of her own. Two boys. That made a total of thirteen people living under one roof.

  Recruiting them was easy. Walter and Ruth were dumb enough to climb on a porcupine. And when they signed up, the family signed up too; they had no choice.

  Next stop: Father Maloney.

  Maloney was a quiet, peaceful man. He was a man of God who thought Jonathan was doing some interesting things at Town Pit. But that didn’t change the Church’s view of: no man shall play God, so when push came to shove, and Helga stuck the petition under his nose (with eighteen signatures, no less) Maloney sided with God’s People. He felt that he had no choice.

  He also felt like moving to a different town.

  War was brewing. It was easy to see.

  With the Church in her pocket, Helga and Dale went door-to-door preaching the Lord’s word and hunting signatures. Some told them to piss up a rope. One couple laughed and one man tried to start a fistfight with Dale; most folk politely said they didn’t get involved in politics. However, there were a few that coughed up a signature, pledged their allegiance to the Lord and said, “I will not support Jonathan Weakley and his satanic rituals.”

  Those poor unfortunate bastards thought it was the Christian thing to do.

  Once Helga and Dale were done gathering signatures something strange happened, something nobody expected.

  People choose sides.

  Until then, a good chunk of the town didn’t care what Jon was doing. They heard stories and though it was interesting, but considering something interesting and pulling your ass off the couch are two different events.

  That changed.

  Now folks wanted to see what the fuss was about. And three weeks latter, when Jonathan showcased a twenty nine-foot gorilla, the zoo enjoyed its first sell out. The evening was a huge success. The beast was breathtaking; it looked like King Kong. Seven weeks later the zoo had its second sell-out showcasing a 560-pound wasp with clipped wings. A couple months later Jonathan enjoyed his third sell-out, showcasing a 1,900-pound rattlesnake. The forth sellout was a 9,000-pound grizzly bear. Then came the scorpion. Then came the wolf spider.

  Helga was pissed. And ready for war.

  * * *

  As time marched on, August Monk grew very tired of God’s People. Every few days they came to his office complaining about Jon’s zoo and Satan and whatever seemed to be the hot topic of the day. Helga was always there, along with several dimwitted followers, and she loved flashing Monk her list of 73 names.

  “They gave me th
eir signature and their hearts to the Lord,” she was fond of saying. “The town supports me but most of them are afraid to get involved! That’s the only reason they didn’t sign!”

  Monk found it hard to believe that the very people that were supporting Jon’s zoo wanted it shut down. And if they did, tough shit. With Jon constantly raising the admission prices he was making good money; that zoo wasn’t going anywhere. And Monk was no fool. Those 73 names were misleading at best. What Helga was really waving around was fourteen idiots and a bunch of children.

  He said, “Jon’s zoo is a part of Monk Town now, Mrs. Whitman. You might as well get used to it.”

  But of course, she didn’t. This was her cause. She figured an animal would soon break free and there’d be pandemonium in the streets.

  Didn’t happen though.

  What happened was a fistfight at Bunter’s Saloon between Helga and Bill Watt, forcing Monk to crawl out of bed and deal with the uproar. And with that, the fate of God’s people was decided.

  They were to be exterminated.

  * * *

  Jonathan Weakley stood at the edge of the pit like a proud father, looking at his latest monstrosity, the 750-pound wolf spider.

  August Monk stood at his side. “You ready, Jon?”

  “I’m ready.”

  “You sure ‘bout this? It’s not too late to change your mind.”

  “Oh I know, but I want to get rid of the rat and the bullfrog, and losing a few others won’t be the end of the world. I can re-stock the zoo. Besides, this is going to be fun.”

  “Absolutely.” Monk said. He closed his eyes and raised his hand.

  On the far side of the Pit, Bill Watt began spinning the handle on a crank-wheel. Down below, a large metal door lifted from a cage. Once the door was completely open, Bill spun a different handle. This caused the back wall inside the open cage to move forward. And as this happened, out came the perfect ten, God’s people, all seventy-three of them.

  They were in the pit.

  And they were terrified.

  Six-hundred-and-fifty-seven pairs of eyes looked upon them. Mouths were hanging wide open. And for a moment, nobody said a word.

  Then Helga walked away from the others and stood in the center of the dugout with her hands balled into fists. She didn’t look afraid; she looked like she was trying to lead her people.

  She lifted her chin and said, “Friends and neighbors, look around you. Look at what you’re doing and what you have done! This is not the Lord’s way. This is Satan’s doing, the pathway to hell. The Dark Lord is leading you astray.”

  Monk didn’t want to hear it. He said, “You sure Jon?”

  Jon nodded and Monk raised his hand a second time.

  Bill Watt took hold of a large handle that was attached to a complex pulley system. He spun the wheel.

  Eleven cage doors began opening at once.

  The wolf snarled. The gorilla began beating its chest. The rattlesnake hissed and the rat scampered in a circle. The spider got down low and tried to squeeze beneath the rising door. The scorpion stood tall and raised its tail. The bullfrog jumped, knocking its head against the cage roof. The wasp stung the ground beneath its feet twice and the grizzly bear growled.

  The crowd released several collective gasps.

  God’s People began stirring. Most stayed close to the cage but a few began to wander. Frail screams were released. Children buried terrified faces against their mother’s dresses. Fathers cursed Jonathan’s name.

  “This is going to be good,” Jon whispered.

  A string of saliva dangled between Monk’s thin lips, he looked terrified. And a moment later the spider squeezed its body under the cage door.

  It was free. And it was Hungry.

  * * *

  Eight long, hairy legs scampered across the ground with incredible speed, creating a sound similar to a trotting horse. Each leg was the size of a tree trunk, orange on one side and brown on the other. It hard-shelled back was as thick as the bible.

  It leapt.

  Helga turned her lanky body towards the giant arachnid with her mouth gaped in fear and her tongue pulled so deep into her throat you’d think she was trying to swallow it. She stepped back, looking directly into three rows of eyes. From her perspective the eyes looked like a deformed face.

  As the 750-pound spider knocked her down she couldn’t help noticing that the creature smelled like a barn. The spider nuzzled closer. Its two front legs held her shoulders, two long, orange, mandibles snapped together, tearing away her face and half her skull. Helga’s blood and brains spewed into the air.

  Then all the people of Monk Town flinched and God’s People started running. But there with no escape plan, only the need to move.

  Four children stayed where they were, three girls and a boy.

  The boy’s eyes were glued in place. He watched the giant spider with his hands at his heart. If not for the fear in his eyes, he’d look like he had fallen in love.

  Next to the boy, a girl with pigtails began pissing herself.

  And next to the girl with the pigtails, a girl wearing a bright yellow dress had her hands over her eyes, her shoulders raised to her ears, and her elbows tucked into her waist. Her knees were pressed together, making her legs look like they were melting. She was whispering, “Stand still and nothing will hurt you.”

  On her left stood a two-year-old girl.

  The two-year-old had baby-smooth skin, blonde curly hair, and wasn’t much bigger than a newborn. She watched people running and the giant spider cocooning Helga, but she didn’t understand what was happening and she thought she might be dreaming.

  Then the 650-pound wingless wasp squeezed free of its cage and came straight for her, moving in a clumsy stumble. One front leg was broken and it was trying to fly, but with no wings it just couldn’t do it.

  Suddenly the girl with the pigtails and the girl with the yellow dress ran in opposite direction, each of them screaming. This caused the boy to snap free from his daze and fall on his ass.

  Then the wasp attacked the two-year-old. It knocked her over and stung her right between the eyes, killing her instantly. With her head pinned to the earth, the boy could see blonde hair turning into red strings of goo.

  * * *

  Now that the cages were open, Bill Watt wondered if he would end up in hell. If so, somehow it seemed fitting. Opening the doors was a sin.

  Looking down, Bill watching the rat step from its cage. Then a man named Davis Poppy (who wasn’t exactly sure why he sided with God’s People) ran directly into the rodent and quickly lost half an arm. “Oh Gawd!” He screamed with blood gushing from an elbow. Then his feet started moving and he ran towards the scorpion. The scorpion, ignoring Davis, scurried across the Pit and attacked the spider. In retaliation, the spider released a web that shot through the air and pinned Father Maloney to the wall. And as that happened, the rattlesnake slithered into Bill’s field of vision and snatched up little Betty Whitman, swallowing the boy––shoes and all––in a quick, uncaring gulp.

  Bill looked at the gorilla.

  Its hands were two feet wide and three feet long. It’s teeth were the length of a man’s arm. The beast stepped from its cage with its head low, grabbed a woman and tore her in half.

  Bill’s eyes drifted.

  Suddenly, it seemed, there was too much going on.

  He saw a pool of blood in the center of the Pit. He saw spider webs spraying across a wall. He saw a string of intestines falling from the wolf’s mouth. He saw a man with no legs crawling with his hands. He saw people running into animals, into each other, and into the cages. He saw a ten-year-old girl stumbling into the 850-pound lizard as blood poured from her mouth. He saw a six-year-old boy leaning against a torso with his guts lying in his lap. He saw a headless woman falling to the ground and man that must have been stung by the wasp; his chest was so swollen that he looked like a bursting water balloon. He saw a man climbing the wall and a girl with an eyeball hanging from her hea
d.

  And these were people he knew, every one of them. They were friends and neighbors, the people of Monk Town.

  Bill looked across the Pit.

  Jonathan was leaning over the rail.

  Monk was sitting in his chair, wondering if he had gone too far.

  And below the two men, people screamed and ran in circles, looking for safety, looking for help. But there wasn’t anywhere to hide. The Pit was just a big circle, a bunch of cages and pulleys and a gigantic locked door.

  Nothing more.

  * * *

  Monk saw the 9,000-pound grizzly bear pounce on a boy’s chest, flattening him like a manhole cover. He saw the wolf chasing the children, biting one boy in the neck, and thrashing him about. He saw the wasp leap onto the lizard’s back and pierce the reptile with its stinger. He saw a man hitting another man with a severed arm.

  Monk looked away. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He said, “Shit Jon, are you seeing this?”

  “This is unbelievable,” Jon agreed, pointing. “Look at that.”

  Monk looked. He saw the rat standing in front of its cage, eating Davis Poppy’s arm. He saw the wolf jump onto the rat’s back and bite its throat; the rat squealed and rolled over with its feet kicking and its nose twitching. He saw the grizzly take a swing at the scorpion, ripping the insect in half; white mushy puss emptied on a rope of webbing. He saw a five-year-old with no hand, screaming as blood poured from his wrist. He saw Ruth Huppert, dressed in her homemade sack, holding a child’s head. He saw two women hiding behind the turtle, which was still in its cage and appeared to be sleeping.