Chasing the Moon

by A. Lee Martinez

  She glared at them.

  “Oh, fine.” Vom picked up the bowl of popcorn and shoveled handfuls down his throat.

  “Save some for me,” said Smorgaz.

  “Get your own,” replied Vom, shoveling faster.

  The monsters went into the kitchen. When they were gone Chuck relaxed a bit. He was still on edge, but he was nowhere near the wild energy she’d seen last week.

  Her first instinct was to ask what was wrong, but she already knew the answer.

  “Maybe we should go for a walk,” she said.

  “Out there? I can’t go. It won’t let me.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I know.”

  “Chuck, if I could maybe offer you some advice, I think you have to stop being afraid of it.”

  “What are you talking about? It’s a monster, a creature that lives to torment me. I’d be stupid not to be afraid of it.”

  She said, “But that’s just it. I don’t think it actually wants to torment you. I think it’s just responding to the emotional vibe you keep putting out. If you keep acting fearful, then it will think it should be feared. These things, these monsters, they don’t really mean any harm. They just can’t help it.”

  His brow furrowed. “Why are you talking about them like they’re people? They’re horrible things that don’t belong here.”

  “I know, but that just means they’re confused and disoriented. They need something or someone to ground them in our reality.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” he said, “but I don’t see how anyone can choose to not be afraid.”

  She wanted to tell him it wasn’t that hard, but it was a lot harder than she’d realized. She remembered her first reaction to meeting Vom. It had shattered everything she understood about the universe, and while she’d gotten over that, she couldn’t explain how.

  Maybe it was a question of temperament. Maybe some human minds were more ready for the unknowable than others, and there was nothing anyone could do to alter that.

  “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”

  She took him by the hand and led him toward the door. He moved stiffly but didn’t fight.

  “It’ll be easy.” She used a soft, relaxing tone. “We’ll just walk out the front door, and the creature won’t care because we will stay calm.”

  She opened the door. His demon pup was on the other side of the threshold. It raised its hideous head and yipped. Chuck squeezed her hand tight.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “Everything is just fine.”

  The dog bared its pointed teeth and growled.

  “Oh, God,” he whispered. “It doesn’t like this.” He pulled free and stepped back.

  “You can’t let this thing rule your life,” she said.

  “That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to deal with it every day.”

  She frowned. “Just a second there. I have three unholy beasts in my kitchen right now. So I think I know what I’m talking about.”

  He scowled. “Yours are easy. Not like that little creature. It’s just waiting for me to drop my guard so it can kill me.”

  The dog howled.

  “Close the door!” he said.

  “Chuck, you can’t—”

  “Close the goddamn door!”

  The dog snapped its lipless mouth open and shut several times.

  Diana shut the door.

  “It’s still out there,” he said. “Oh, God, I can feel it watching me through the walls.”

  She wanted to reassure him that he was probably just feeling the unrelenting stare of Zap, but reconsidered. He probably wouldn’t find that very reassuring at all.

  She excused herself to grab a drink from the kitchen.

  “Sounds like that boy is near his expiration date,” said Vom.

  “He’s going to be fine,” she replied, though she noted she didn’t sound convinced.div height="0em">

  “Believe me,” said Zap. “I’ve seen his future. It isn’t pretty.”

  “So now you can see through time?”

  “The very use of the phrase highlights the fallacies of your limited perceptions. One does not see through time. Rather, one sees along time.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  Zap waved his tentacles in a condescending manner. “It means that trying to explain it to you would only be a waste of time for both of us.”

  “You are such a pretentious prick,” said Smorgaz.

  Vom snickered.

  Zap glared.

  “He’s right,” said Vom. “You are.”

  “Well, if being privy to the mysteries of the universe makes me a pretentious prick, then I guess I’m guilty as charged.”

  Vom and Smorgaz laughed.

  “That is such a prick thing to say,” replied Vom with a snort.

  “Philistines,” said Zap.

  She left the monsters to their debate.

  Chuck paced back and forth. He was losing it again. She wondered how often this happened to him. Was he just having a bad month or were the sane moments the anomaly? She didn’t need to deal with this. It was selfish on her part, but keeping him sensible wasn’t a responsibility she wanted or needed right now.

  “Chuck…” She wasn’t certain how to put this.

  He jumped at her, clamped a hand over her mouth.

  This was definitely not a healthy relationship, she decided right then.

  “Listen,” he whispered as he stared at the door. “Can’t you hear it?”

  She did catch the faint scratch of claws on wood.

  Diana pushed Chuck away.

  “Okay, this is not cool,” she said. “Not cool at all. I’m going to have to ask you to leave right now.”

  He wasn’t listening to her. He curled up in a corner of the couch and covered his ears.

  “Oh, no. Don’t try that with me. I have my own monsters to deal with, so—”

  Something pounded hard against the door. The creature struck three more times, and the hinges showed signs of buckling.

  “Ah, guys,” she called. “I think I could use a little help here.”

  Her roommes entered the room as the assault intensified.

  Chuck cackled like a madman.

  “Damn it.” She put her hands on his cheeks and tried to get his attention. “Chuck, it’s responding to your confusion and fear. If you stay calm and in control, then you have nothing to be afraid of. It doesn’t want to hurt you. It just doesn’t understand.”

  For a moment she glimpsed reason surfacing in the storm of madness in his eyes. It didn’t last.

  The door burst open as the demon pup sprang into the room. It was the size of a Bengal tiger, and its twisted body oozed and popped as it boiled. Vom, Smorgaz, and Zap pounced on the beast. Howling, it thrashed to free itself.

  “I got it! I got it!” Smorgaz was kicked across the room. He bounced off the wall, shook his head clear, and jumped back into the battle.

  The demon dog’s serrated tail sliced off one of Vom’s arms. “You little son of a—”

  “Stand back!” said Zap. “I’ll blast it!”

  “No!” said Diana, Vom, and Smorgaz in unison.

  “Just a little blast,” said Zap.

  “No blasting,” repeated Diana.

  “Oh, fine.”

  She had to do something fast. It was only a matter of time before the demon dog slipped free and pounced on Chuck.

  She slapped him. A shock to the system was all she could think of. It worked just long enough for him to punch her in the throat and scramble away. No serious harm was done, but by the time she caught her breath he had managed to lock himself in the bathroom.

  He was going to hide. Facing an incomprehensible threat, his only instinct was to retreat from it. It was sensible, but it wasn’t going to work. Not this time. When you couldn’t run from the unfathomable, your only other choice was to confront it head-on, but Chuck didn’t have the capacity.

  The dog threw off Vom and Smorgaz. Zap slo
wed it, but in three short steps it’d tear Chuck to pieces.

  Diana stepped between the dog and the bathroom. She planted her feet, folded her arms across her chest, and squinted with steely determination. She almost shouted at the monster, but it seemed unnecessarily dramatic.

  The hound growled at her.

  “You’re confused, scared. I get it. You don’t have to be. Not anymore.”

  The creature tilted its head left and right, trying to decipher her like a puzzle.

  She moved toward the dog. Rule number three was don’t pet the dog. So she held out her hand under the creature’s multitoothed mouth. Its tongue darted out and wrapped around her arm. It cooed.

  “Yes, you can stay with me.”

  The dog shrank to its less threatening puppy size.

  Vom groaned. “Are we running a halfway house here?”

  “I’m not cleaning up after it,” added Zap.

  Diana attempted to coax Chuck out of the bathroom, but gave up after a few minutes. He’d have to come out eventually.

  She sat on the sofa with the dog and watched television with her roommates. Two hours later he finally stepped out.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey,” she replied.

  There was nothing more to be said after that. He quietly slipped out of the apartment and was gone from the building by the next morning without even a casual goodbye. She would’ve liked to get mad about that, but she couldn’t blame him. She probably would’ve done the same in his situation.

  They named the dog Pogo.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Bowling was Diana’s idea. Bringing along her roommates was Sharon’s.

  “I’ll bring my guy,” she said. “You bring yours. They’ll get a kick out of it. Trust me.”

  The monsters seemed less interested in meeting another cosmically misplaced entity and more interested in getting out for a few hours. For beings that lived outside of time, they had a peculiar tendency toward restlessness.

  “Sharon’s going to be there?” asked Vom.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m out then,” said Smorgaz.

  “What? You guys have been bugging me for days about getting out of the apartment.”

  “I don’t like her. She makes my head buzz. And not in a good way.”

  “Well, I’m in,” said Vom after a bit of thought. “I can put up with the buzz if it gives me a chance to stretch my legs.”

  “Me too,” said Zap.

  “You don’t have legs.”

  Zap glared. Sparks of lightning danced around the edges of his single giant eye. “Har har.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come?” she asked Smorgaz.

  “Pass. Don’t worry about it. I’ll keep myself company.”

  He budded a full-grown spawn and plopped on the couch. “Want to get us some popcorn, buddy?”

  “Why me?” asked his identical spawn.

  “Because I’m Smorgaz prime.”

  “That doesn’t give you the right to boss me around.”

  “Have it your way.” Smorgaz prime snapped his fingers, and the clone dissolved into a puddle.

  “Hey, watch the rug,” said Diana.

  “Sorry.” Smorgaz budded off another clone. “Now are you going to get me some popcorn, or are we going to have a problem here?”

  The clone lumbered into the kitchen.

  “Have fun,” said Diana. “And clean up your mess.”

  “We’ll get right on it,” promised Smorgaz.

  “I call shotgun!” shouted Zap.

  “I always get shotgun,” said Vom. “Right, Diana?”

  “Sorry, but he did call it.”

  “Ah hell.”

  Vom sulked in the backseat, and Zap played with the radio on the drive to the alley.

  The moon was glowing tonight. Transference from Zap had given her supernatural sight. She could perceive auras around people and objects now. Not all people and not all objects. Not even every monster she passed on the street had an aura, and the auras would sometimes disappear. Vom always had one. Zap never did. And Smorgaz prime was usually encased in a soft yellow glow, while his clones tended to be wrapped in purple.

  The moon always shone like a light. Threads of luminosity stretched from the silver orb to Fenris, its eternal pursuer, who himself always glittered almost as bright. The two auras were so bright that they were a pair of virtual midnight suns. Except that the light they spread across the night sky was a prism of colors, many of which humans had not invented names for yet.

  Diana was getting used to this stuff, but the night sky unsettled her. It was like gazing into a kaleidoscope that showed the end of time. She could accept that the universe was finite, but she didn’t like the idea that there were things on the other side. Horrible things. Unfathomable to mere mortal minds and to inhuman creatures like Vom and Zap alike.

  Zap put his tentacles on the dashboard and looked up at the sky. “That Fenris is up to no good.”

  “I could’ve told you that,” said Vom.

  “It’ll happen soon,” said Zap.

  “What will happen soon?” asked Diana.

  He blinked. “I don’t know. It’s too hard to see it from this point in the space and time, but something is going to happen.”

  Vom laughed. “You’re like a bad psychic. Could you be more vague?”

  “Mock me if you must—”

  “Oh, I must. Something is going to happen! And soon! You want to know what I think? I think you’re full of it.”

  “Hardly surprising,” mumbled Zap, “considering that you are nothing but a pair of mouths on legs with the perceptual capacity of all that requires and nothing more. I, on the other hand, am a cosmic observer birthed from the very first star to bear witness to the universe.”

  “Guys, can we knock off the bickering?” asked Diana. “At least for a few hours. I don’t want to make a bad impression with these people.”

  The entities grumbled but agreed to do their best to play nice.

  At the bowling alley Diana had to rent three pairs of shoes. They didn’t have any in Vom’s size, and Zap didn’t even have feet. But the man renting the shoes insisted. She still hadn’t deciphered how human minds transformed the monsters into something ignorable, but she’d stopped trying to figure that out.

  “What am I supposed to do with these?” asked Zap.

  “Just carry them, I guess,” she replied. “You have plenty of arms.”

  Sharon’s monster wasn’t what Diana had expected. She’d come prepared for something bizarre, and instead found a man so ordinary that she wasn’t sure he was a creature at all. Calvin did have a weird aura, a crackle of light like tiny sparks were created as he dragged himself across the surface of reality. If she looked hard, they seemed like rips in the universe, but they disappeared almost immediately. Even these weren’t readily visible or constant. They only seemed to manifest with sudden movements.

  Introductions were passed around. Diana noticed Calvin didn’t offer his hand to shake. Vom and Zap went to pick their bowling balls.

  “Been forever since I bowled,” said Diana.

  “We go all the time,” replied Sharon. “I’m still pretty lousy, but Calvin is fantastic.”

  “She’s exaggerating,” said Calvin.

  “Don’t be modest.”

  He lowered his head and smiled. “I do all right.”

  Vom and Zap returned. Vom had selected a thirteen-pound ball, but only after he’d eaten several others. Diana had seen him do it. She elected not to say anything. Zap’s ball was only six pounds, but he was having trouble levitating while carrying it. He might have been privy to secrets of the universe, but he wasn’t very strong.

  Vom grinned. “Need help with that?”

  “I got it,” Zap grunted, swaying a bit.

  Calvin bowled the first frame and scored a strike.

  “Whoa,” said Vom. “Looks like we have a ringer.” By the third frame Calvin had a clear lead. Vom trailed
in second. Sharon and Diana ended up knocking over a few pins, competing for third place. And Zap, barely able to push his ball down the alley, had a score of three. He sat in a hard plastic chair and grumbled.

  Cosmic monsters were an immature lot, mused Diana, having come to this conclusion several days earlier.

  Vom offered to get some snacks, but she told him to stay put. Diana and Sharon went to the vending machines. Diana didn’t have any change. Then she discovered a handful of quarters had materialized in her pocket. As reality-altering slips went, she could live with it. She started dropping coins into the slots without much thought. Whatever she brought back would be fine with Vom.

  “So Calvin is nice,” said Diana.

  “Oh, yes. He’s probably the nicest guy I’ve ever met. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “Hard to believe he’s one of… them.”

  “I know, right? I’ve never met a guy who was so levelheaded and sweet. Maybe it’s because he’s been around forever, but he never loses his temper. And he’s thoughtful and intelligent. And funny, too, though you have to get to know him to find that out. He has some stories about the Ice Age that’ll make you laugh until your sides ache.”

  Diana pushed some random buttons and let the machine dispense whatever it felt like. “Wait a second. Is this the guy you like? The guy you work with?”

  “Do you think I should get a Mars bar or a Twix?”

  “Twix,” said Diana. “Don’t change the subject. Is this the guy?”

  Sharon nodded very slightly, as if confessing to some terrible sin. “But you can’t tell him. You have to promise me.”

  “I wouldn’t tell him. But what makes you think he doesn’t already know? Don’t you two already live together?”

  “Sort of.” Sharon leaned against the machine, resting her forehead against the display window. “It’s complicated. I told you he just doesn’t see me in that way. In most ways he’s very human. But not in that way. He doesn’t function like that.”

  Sensing she was encroaching on dangerous territory, Diana didn’t ask any more questions. Sharon volunteered answers without being asked.

  “He’s not a sexual being. I’m not just talking about the act of sex itself. I’m talking about the entire reproductive element of what makes us humans tick. He’s eternal. He doesn’t need to. And I’m not sure he finds us attractive. I’ve never even seen him check out another woman. Or man, for that matter.