Temporary Monsters

by CRAIG SHAW GARDNER

  The swami began to shuffle and stomp his feet.

  “You know, that’s kind of catchy.” Bob started to shuffle along.

  Swami Phil redoubled his shuffle, clapping along to the beat. He began to hum.

  “Now you’re talking!” Bob began to dance. Lenny thought he was pretty good for someone with four hooved feet.

  “One, two, cha-cha-cha!” Bob called.

  The swami’s hum grew louder. The melody surrounded them. Lenny could faintly hear a full orchestra playing along.

  “Everybody mambo!” the pooka called. Bob danced through the wall of the bus, disappearing from sight.

  “All clear,” Swami Phil said as he sank back onto the couch. He was breathing heavily. Sweat darkened the base of his turban and rolled down his face.

  “Excellent!” Foo replied. He glanced at the other, much larger occupant of the couch. “In all the excitement, I didn’t introduce the other member of our team. This is Bruno.”

  Bruno took up fully two-thirds of the couch. He glared up at Lenny.

  “He’s paid mostly to be a silent menace,” Foo added.

  Lenny heard the bus’s air brakes groan as the vehicle stopped abruptly, almost jarring him off his feet.

  “But we’ve arrived!” Foo slapped him on the back. “It’s time for you to rescue the fair maiden!”

  Lenny had never thought of Sheila in quite that way before. But then, he’d never been on a rescue mission before, either.

  “What do I need to do?”

  “I think we should let Sheila decide that,” Foo replied.

  This was making an odd rescue even odder. Unless, of course, it was a trap. Which it probably was. Lenny wished the rest of his team was around to explain things.

  Foo grabbed Lenny’s arm and propelled him toward the front of the bus. Lenny glanced back to see Swami Phil and Bruno follow. Phil’s first few steps were tentative, as if he hadn’t regained the energy he’d used on his banishment spells. Bruno lumbered at the rear, making hardly any noise at all.

  The bus doors hissed open, and Foo pushed Lenny forward. Lenny stepped out of the bus to find they were in a large parking garage. It seemed every bit as anonymous as that strange hotel hallway, or the huge urban wasteland where Foo’s minions had pitched their tents. Lenny couldn’t see any signs or markings identifying the place, besides the pillar opposite the door that informed them the bus was parked at G68. Foo led him through the parking lot and through a pair of unmarked doors.

  Then Foo directed Lenny down an equally anonymous hallway, the sort you’d walk down to the men’s room in a shopping mall. Dull yellow paint flaked from the walls. The group moved past doors marked JANITORIAL and ELECTRICAL ACCESS. Lenny felt he had seen too many hallways since starting this job. He imagined this one, like all the others, hid more than it seemed. They were probably walking straight toward another trap.

  And why not? It was much easier to have him walk than to be dragged somewhere.

  Lenny wished Terrifitemps had taught him some basic martial arts moves, or given him a lighter that doubled as a blowtorch. Maybe those would come later in his orientation. The crisis had come on his first day of work, and he had been thrown out into the field and, ultimately, into the hands of the enemy.

  Foo stopped abruptly. “Turn here.” A portion of the wall shifted silently aside, revealing a large, mostly empty room. As far as Lenny could tell, the only object in the room was Sheila, still tied to a chair. Lenny ran across the worn carpet, straight to her side.

  “Sheila?” he called as he looked down at the complicated knots wound around the back of the chair.

  She spat out her gag. “You’re alone?”

  Lenny waved at the hooded figure who marched toward them. “Foo brought me here.”

  Sheila nodded, apparently satisfied. “Good. I don’t need any of this anymore.” She stood, the ropes falling away around her.

  “I hope you weren’t too uncomfortable.” Foo stepped to Lenny’s side. “My little princess.”

  Sheila kissed Foo’s cheek. “Could you give us some time alone, Daddy?”

  Lenny stared.

  Daddy?

  Chapter Eleven

  Foo did not look at all pleased.

  “Time is of the essence!” he insisted. “We need to talk logistics!”

  Sheila looked at Foo. Lenny knew that look. Foo stood his ground.

  “Daddy?” she said. Lenny also knew that tone of voice.

  Foo took a step back. He knew that voice, too. He held up his hands in surrender.

  “All right, dear. We’ll give you a minute.”

  Sheila continued to stare at her father.

  “I divine,” Swami Phil announced, “that these two would prefer to be left alone.”

  Foo looked the slightest bit cross. Bruno continued to glower. The swami shooed both of them from the room.

  Lenny took a good look at Sheila. And she did look good. Her blonde hair was cut in an attractive bob that framed her face, and all those ropes and gags had not smudged her impeccable makeup or creased her low-cut evening gown. Lenny had never seen Sheila dressed so formally.

  The door slid shut behind the others. The two of them stood there in silence. Lenny didn’t know what to say. Sheila smiled as though she might be the slightest bit embarrassed.

  She took a deep breath before she began. “I suppose there are a few teensy things I never told you about me.”

  “Few?” Lenny asked. “Teensy?”

  He studied the woman who stood before him. What did he really know about Sheila? She had worked in advertising back when they were dating. He had even been to a Christmas party at her office. He wondered now if the ad agency had just been another front for Foo.

  “This is somewhat bigger than teensy.” Lenny waved at the very large room, and all the rooms beyond. “Why didn’t you tell me about any of this?”

  “Would you have understood?” Sheila asked with a scowl. “How does someone describe a father like Foo? Let me tell you, it’s not easy being the daughter of an international criminal mastermind!”

  Lenny guessed she had a point. But what else did he know about her past—or what did he think he knew? Back when they were together, Sheila had told him about a childhood spent in boarding school, followed by four years at a small college in Ohio. She hadn’t dated since her college boyfriend had met with a tragic accident. It was only now Lenny thought to question the details of her boyfriend’s death.

  On their first few dates, Sheila had spent a lot of time asking about him. And he was happy to talk. He had dated girls on and off from late in high school, but Sheila was the first one who would really listen. He had felt an instant connection. They seemed to enjoy a lot of the same things—movies, games, nights out with friends—at least at first. Lenny had had other relationships before, but this was the first one where everything felt right. They just fit together—Sheila pushed Lenny forward when he dug in his heels, while he held Sheila back when she got a bit too impulsive. And it had worked, until it didn’t.

  Thinking about it now, maybe he had opened up a bit more than he should have. And why hadn’t he asked more questions about Sheila?

  Lenny felt a cool pressure against his fingers. Sheila had taken his hand. In her fashionable heels, she was almost as tall as he was. She looked him in the eyes.

  “I know we ended badly. I know the things I said. Like we weren’t meant for each other. Like you had no ambition. Like you would never do anything with your life. Like I couldn’t be seen going out with a man whose life was becoming a joke. Like I couldn’t let on that people were laughing at you behind your back!” She looked up to the ceiling, as though she could barely contain the emotions welling up inside her. “And like you always let the dishes pile up in the sink.”

  She squeezed his hand with a sigh, and looked Lenny straight in th
e eye. Lenny had always thought her eyes were a very nice shade of blue. “But I was wrong.”

  Lenny and Sheila just stood there for a long moment. She had told him people were laughing at him? He had forgotten that part.

  Sheila spoke first. “Well, maybe I wasn’t wrong about the dishes, but still, look at you now.”

  Sheila was an attractive woman, especially when she was smiling. And yet, looking at her, Lenny remembered all the fights they’d had at the end of the relationship. After a while, no matter what he said, it was wrong, wrong, wrong. Seeing Sheila smile, a part of Lenny wanted to forget all about the past. But how long would that smile last?

  “You have finally found a job perfectly suited to your skills,” Sheila said. “For the first time, you have a real chance of success.” She increased the pressure on his hand. “It should be obvious that I find this very attractive.”

  Lenny took a deep breath. “I’m flattered. But there were a lot of reasons that we broke up.”

  Sheila’s smile faltered ever so slightly. “You never did listen. I’m on your side. I’ve always been on your side. Why else would I want to get to know you so well?”

  Lenny realized a bit of his old anger was coming back. “It was different when we were first getting to know each other. But then you stopped asking how I felt about things and just started telling me what to do. My job wasn’t good enough. We needed a better place to live. Why didn’t we get away more on weekends?”

  Sheila’s smile faltered. “Are you saying I ordered you around?

  “Well, yes.”

  “I was only looking out for your best interests!”

  “Sure, as you saw them.”

  “And that’s why you got so angry? It would have been nice if you had explained that to me—back when it happened.” Her voice got louder with every word. “A relationship is a two-way street. If you’re still not bright enough to know that, maybe we don’t get back together after all!”

  “Fine with me! Until you showed up, I hadn’t thought about you in months!” As soon as Lenny had said that, he realized his words weren’t totally true. But they sure sounded good and angry.

  “Even better for me!” she snapped. This was the Sheila he remembered well. “When I think of all the time I’ve wasted thinking about you, dreaming about the two of us together.” She wiped away a single tear. “With you, I thought world domination could be something really special! But it’s the same old problem. I would have had to explain my father.”

  Sheila sighed. “There are no winners here. You’re still impossible! How could I ever think I could change you?”

  Before Lenny could come up with a suitably angry reply, he heard a soft knock on the door. Foo and his two cohorts reentered the room.

  “Have you come to your decision?” Sheila’s father asked as they approached.

  Sheila gave Lenny a single glance before she replied. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I think we’re going to have to kill him after all.”

  “Wait a minute!” Lenny shouted. When did a lover’s squabble end in death? “Just because we don’t agree on some things is no reason—”

  Sheila gave him one of those looks that cut him off midsentence. “It is a bit abrupt, I’ll admit. But what else can I do?” She brightened, ever so slightly. “I know! Lenny, would you like to choose how you’ll die? For all you’ve been through, it’s the least I can do.”

  “So he gets to choose his destruction?” Foo asked. “Most generous!” He turned to regard Lenny. “Very well, young Mr. Hodge. What’s your poison? The room of a thousand knives? The mind-alteration lab? Torture Suite B?” When Lenny didn’t reply, Foo turned back to his daughter. “Sheila? Any suggestions?”

  She hesitated a moment before she answered. “I was leaning toward the shark tank. He needs to suffer.”

  “Now, Sheila?” Lenny had to take control. “Maybe I was too hasty. We’ve always fought. But remember what came after that? It was always better when we made up again.”

  Her face showed the hint of a smile. “You’re right. Sometimes I can be a little impatient.”

  Sometimes? Sort of like Niagara Falls sometimes has running water. Lenny did his best to keep on smiling.

  Sheila nodded. “Okay, he doesn’t have to suffer that much. I think it’s the reptile den, Daddy.” Her smile grew as she thought of her decision. “It will be quick—well, quicker.”

  “Very well.” Foo grinned at Lenny. “Don’t be so worried, Mr. Hodge. With the reptiles, you have a choice. Will the Komodo dragon get you first, or it could be the giant crocodile, or even the poisonous black mamba snake? Think of it as an adventure.”

  “Bruno?” Foo nodded to the large man at his side. “If you would accompany Mr. Hodge? Now that Sheila has made her decision, we don’t want to tarry.”

  Lenny looked at the man lumbering toward him. How could he fight against that? Maybe he could move faster than Bruno, dodge his grasp, and make a run for it.

  Lenny ducked, and found his head firmly held by a very large hand. Another hand grabbed his belt.

  “But—” Lenny began as the large man simply picked him up and carried him.

  “We’ll be coming along,” Foo said by Bruno’s side. “We may be taking you to your death, but at least you’ll have an appreciative audience.”

  How could this be happening? Lenny had to do something. But what?

  Lenny heard a burst of Wagner’s Der Ring des Nibelungen. Foo pulled out his cell phone.

  “What?” Foo barked. “How is that possible?”

  He looked at the others. “Apparently our direct route to the reptile pit is blocked. What is it?” He said to the phone.

  He looked back to the others with a frown. “Apparently the hall outside is jammed with a herd of buffalo.”

  He turned back to the phone. “What? Not just a herd of buffalo? Oh. I see.” He looked at the others. “This is no ordinary herd. The bison are all wearing uniforms. Red jackets with brass buttons. And they’re singing.”

  “Singing?” Sheila stepped in front of Lenny. “This is your fault!”

  Lenny blinked. Apparently, it was.

  Chapter Twelve

  Foo’s mouth actually fell open as he stared down the hallway. “This is totally preposterous!

  Sheila nodded. “Welcome to my world. Well, Lenny’s world, actually. I was only visiting. But, this is not much stranger than—well, a lot of things.”

  Actually, Lenny thought, this one is up there with the tap-dancing toads. He was oddly calm in the face of this. Despite the fact that he had tried not to think too much about these surprises in his life, he had more or less come to accept them. Compared to whatever waited for him in the reptile room, those singing buffalo seemed positively comforting.

  The wide corridor before them was packed with a large number of buffalo. Just your ordinary very large, very hairy mammals—Lenny had seen some of them at a Western theme park when he was a kid—except that each of these large animals was wearing what? A team jacket? The clothes were draped over the animals something like a horse blanket, if that blanket were to have short sleeves to cover the top of the bison’s forelegs, and if that blanket was made out of some shiny, dark-red material. A large yellow “B” was emblazoned on every one. And there were, indeed, brass buttons on the corners.

  The bison snorted and grunted and made low rumbling noises as Lenny and the others approached.

  “What should we do?” Foo murmured. “I was so looking forward to the reptile room.”

  “There’s only one way to approach this,” Sheila replied. “We have to give them Lenny.”

  “No reptiles?” Her father sighed. “Very well. I suppose death by buffalo stampede will have to do.”

  Foo stepped aside. Bruno pushed Lenny to the front of the group.

  The satin-jacketed buffalo noticed immediately. Their snorting and shu
ffling increased in intensity. Lenny wondered if Foo’s secret headquarters could withstand the onrushing herd.

  “Whatever is going to happen,” Sheila said, “it will happen now.”

  Lenny stared at the mass of animals crammed in the corridor before him.

  And something changed.

  It began with a sort of a moooo mumble sound, as a low rumble spread across through herd. A louder voice came from somewhere at the center of the crowd. “One, two, three!”

  With that, the bison began to sing.

  Pack up your troubles in your old kit-bag,

  And smile, smile, smile!

  “They’re singing!” Swami Phil cried with delight. “And in harmony!”

  “They’re not only singing, they’re also not moving!” Foo was not so pleased.

  The bison continued with growing enthusiasm:

  What’s the use of worrying?

  It never was worthwhile, so

  Pack up your—

  Swami Phil regarded the buffalo a bit more skeptically than before. “We have ways of getting around this.”

  The words snapped Foo back to attention. “The swami is correct. This place was built to my specifications. I planned for everything.” He studied a wall panel filled with random decorative tiles. “Even the secret passages have secret passages—”

  His voice faded as “And smile, smile, smile!” thundered down the hall.

  The bison paused. Foo looked sharply at Lenny, as though he were the cause of all this. Well, actually, Lenny supposed he might be, if he could ever figure out how these strange events happened. The silence stretched on. Lenny waited, almost afraid to breathe.

  The herd stirred. Quiet moos turned to murmurs. And then a voice from the center shouted:

  “A-one and a-two!”

  The furry chorus responded in unison.

  It’s a long way to Tipperary,

  It’s a long way to go.

  “It will never end, will it?” Foo asked. “This corridor will always be filled with singing buffalo.” He took a deep breath. “But I have other corridors! Let these buffalo sing forever!” He felt along the wall. “It should be just about here.”