Lovers and Other Monsters

by Marvin Kaye (ed)

  ❖

  A white-skinned Dennis with red hair and green eyes sauntered down the path of a magnificent wood-and-stone Tudor home, reaching down now and then to smell a rose or pet a passing cat. “What do you think, Mr. Atwell?” he asked out loud.

  In his one-room apartment, Dennis Casper looked expectantly at the man visible on the incoming side of his screen.

  The man’s bushy black eyebrows drew together and frown lines appeared across his forehead. “Show me the front view from a distance one more time. I want to see the landscaping.”

  “Whatever you’d like, sir.” Both Dennises made a shooing gesture and the perspective changed. They now viewed the house from half a block away. The giant shade trees surrounding the house complemented the wooden beams and the bright roses gave it a homey look.

  Mr. Atwell smiled. “I love it, Dennis. You’ve outdone yourself. How soon can we start building it’”

  “We can start by the end of next month, if you’d like.”

  “I’d like that very much.”

  “Fine.” Dennis motioned and the house and his image vanished, leaving the screen blank briefly before the red-haired Dennis returned. “Give me a second.” He looked down and entered some information in the keyboard. “Consider it started. I just licensed the idea and hired the contractors. Don’t forget, I know a great interior decorator if you need one.” If Mr. Atwell wants an interior decorator, Dennis thought, I’ll introduce him to Dennis—model number six.

  “Fantastic. I’ll keep that in mind. I’ve transferred the money to your bank. I love seeing you walk around the house. It makes it seem really alive. How do you do that?”

  “You don’t want me to give away all my secrets, do you?” Dennis chuckled a little nervously.

  “An artist. I understand.” Mr. Atwell sipped his glass of wine. “You know, I’m glad you’ve gotten over that... phobia... you had about letting people see you. I’d heard about you, seen your work, and I loved it. But, personally, I never would have worked with you before. I like to look in a person’s eyes while I’m talking to them. It gives me a feel for what they’re really like.”

  Dennis nodded sincerely. “I couldn’t agree with you more. You never know what someone is like until you’ve seen them.”

  Mr. Atwell loosened his tie and leaned back in his large black leather chair. “Now, on a more personal level, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

  “Oh?” Dennis sat up straighter on the edge of his loveseat. “Who might that be?”

  “It’s my daughter, Roxanne.”

  “I thought she was away at school.” Dennis ran his hand through his lanky black hair, echoed by the redhead on screen.

  Gregory Atwell grinned. “We do let her come home sometimes. I’ve told her about you and she’s interested in meeting you.”

  Dennis hesitated, weighing his bank balance against the discomfort of meeting new people. What are you getting so nervous about, Denny old boy, you don’t have to go there. They’ll never come here. Just say hi on screen. No problem for Big Red. “I’d be pleased to meet her.” Dennis answered. “Do you think she’d like to see the house? I can call it back up.”

  A slightly pained expression crossed Gregory’s face. “Actually, she’s a little shy. She said she’d rather call you, if you don’t mind. I tried to talk her into joining me today, but she can be very stubborn. Is it all right if I tell her to call you in about an hour?”

  “That would be fine. It will give me a chance to freshen up.”

  “Great. Goodbye, Dennis. A pleasure doing business with you.”

  Dennis said goodbye and flicked his image to full screen. He stared at his counterpart on the screen, enduring the return scrutiny. I wonder what he thinks of his other self? If he could, would he leave? Dennis ended the call and the red-haired image disappeared.

  The incoming message tone sounded during Dennis’s meal. He was so busy lately, he rarely made it through a meal uninterrupted. He wore the suit during all his waking hours, so he just walked over to the computer and plugged in. The phone identified the caller as Ms. Roxanne Atwell. Dennis made sure the program running was the same one Gregory Atwell had seen.

  “Hello, Dennis Casper speaking,” the red-haired man said from a sparsely, yet tastefully decorated living room.

  The screen divided, revealing a petite girl with long black hair and bright blue eyes. “Hello, I’m Roxanne Atwell. My father told you I’d call.”

  Dennis groped for a reply; he’d never guessed Atwell would have such a beautiful daughter. “Ah, yes, Ms. Atwell. Your father did say you would call. What can I do for you? Shall I build you a house?” He grinned to show her it was a joke.

  Roxanne looked lost. “Well, I thought... Dad said you had something to tell me. I thought...”

  Dennis glanced wildly around the room. “Oh.” He searched for something to say and found himself looking straight into her eyes. They were such blue eyes. Almost violet. “Well,” he tried again.

  She frowned. “Never mind. I can see my father’s matchmaking again. I’m sorry. I won’t bother you anymore.”

  He leapt up from the loveseat. “No, please, don’t go.”

  She looked at him questioningly.

  Dennis paced for a second. His creation walked around his room, picking up small objects and placing them back down somewhere else. “If I’m not being too bold, maybe he had a good idea.”

  “Oh?”

  Dennis was shocked at himself for the suggestion, but it was too late to back down now. He tried to remember that she didn’t see him, not really. Big Red could handle this. “Not that you need a matchmaker,” he added quickly, stammering. “Someone as beautiful as you obviously doesn’t need help meeting men.” Those romance videos he sometimes watched in the afternoon were coming in handy now. This sappy stuff didn’t sound so bad when you said it to a girl who really was beautiful.

  Roxanne blushed. “You think I’m beautiful?”

  “Yes.”

  She leaned forward, her hair curtaining her face. “You don’t even know me.”

  “Trust me, no matter what your father’s told you,” he said wryly, “you don’t know me, either.”

  She looked up. “I think I’d like to get to know you.”

  “I know I’d like to get to know you.” The two Dennises smiled.

  “So, where do we start?” Roxanne tucked her legs up under her on the couch.

  Forcing his eyes away from her face, Dennis looked around the room in which Roxanne sat. “Where are you calling from?”

  Roxanne laughed and waved her hand around the room. “From my sitting room. Why?”

  “No reason. I’ve never seen this part of your father’s house before. I like how you’ve decorated it.”

  “Thank you. I did it myself.”

  “It’s very polished. You could do this for a living.”

  Roxanne blushed from the neck up. “Thanks again. Anyway, I know you’re an architect, but what do you do for fun?”

  “Fun? Let me show you some pictures I took on my last vacation,” Dennis said, walking over to the nearest wall.

  ❖

  On-screen, Roxanne raised a glass of champagne and toasted Dennis. “Happy New Year! I can’t believe it’s been six months since we met. It went so fast.”

  Dennis raised his glass in return, being careful not to spill it on his tie. “Happy New Year to you, too! Trust me, it’s been six months. I have the phone bills to prove it.”

  Roxanne looked worried. “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t talk so much.”

  “Don’t apologize. I love talking with you. You’ve made this the best New Year’s I’ve ever had. I feel like dancing!”

  Roxanne laughed, but her smile faltered. “I don’t really dance much.”

  Dennis waved his champagne glass at her. “Oh come on, it’s New Year’s! I can’t kiss you, so you have to dance with me!” He danced a few solo dance steps, humming “Auld Lange Syne.”

  Roxanne laughe
d and stood up, extending her hands to the screen, swaying in time to Dennis’s humming.

  Together, they danced in the New Year.

  ❖

  With shaky hands, Dennis pushed the hair back from his eyes. He paced back and forth in front of his screen, ignoring the blaring commercials. “TV off,” he whispered as he passed the monitor. The commercial continued. Dennis stopped pacing and stood in front of the screen. He couldn’t stop his leg from vibrating, so he tried to ignore it. He took a deep breath. “TV off,” he said loudly, releasing his breath in a long sigh.

  “Phone on. Call Roxanne.” He pushed the hood of his suit over his head and, while waiting for her to answer, selected the Dennis she knew. He knew she’d answer. She always did.

  “Hi, Dennis.” She smiled broadly and walked over to her chaise longue.

  “Hi, Rox.” His smile flicked to life and died quickly.

  “How are you doing? Is everything okay? You don’t usually call me twice in one day.” She rubbed the arms of the chair with the palms of her hands.

  Dennis grabbed his leg to keep it from shaking. “Nothing’s up. I just felt like seeing you.” He stood up. “So, home again on a Friday night?” She sat stiffly in the chair. “I know we’re friends, but I don’t have to explain my life to you.” She forced herself to relax, picking invisible threads off the arm of the chair. “Besides, you’re home, too.”

  “Yeah, but you know I go out. You’ve seen the photos.” He turned his back to the camera and picked up a picture of red-haired Dennis on horseback. “Roxanne, how come you’re always home when I call?” He kept his back to her. “I know you’re done with school, but don’t your friends ever make you go out?”

  “I don’t have that many friends, you know that.” Her mouth smiled, but her eyes were wary. “Are you tired of calling me? Am I too boring? I hope I haven’t said anything wrong.”

  “Oh, no, never. I like talking to you. I just worry that you don’t go out enough. And we’ve never gone out. Doesn’t it bother you?”

  She looked away from the screen. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine,” she said, breaking the connection.

  Dennis sat in his darkened apartment and watched Roxanne as she moved around her room, passing in and out of the camera’s field of view. Sometimes she hummed to herself or sang aloud with the radio.

  It worked, Dennis thought, slumping against the back of the sofa. The hardware really kept Roxanne’s signal open. I can shut her out, but she cant leave me. He gripped the remote tightly in his hands, simultaneously forcing himself to turn the phone off and fighting to keep the line open.

  On screen, Roxanne left the room. A few minutes passed without her return. The remote dropped from Dennis’s hand, shutting off the monitor as it hit the floor.

  ❖

  Dennis watched Roxanne every day. He noticed things about her, things he never really thought about before. She and Dennis had a few things in common. Neither one had a mirror in their room. Neither one ever had visitors.

  ❖

  “Dennis! You’ve dyed your hair black! I really like it. It suits you.” Dennis reached to feel his newly cut hair. It was shorter than he was used to and very clean. “Thank you. It’s actually my natural color. For a while, I thought red looked better, but now I feel like looking like myself a little.”

  “Well, it’s nice with your blue eyes. Come to think of it, weren’t your eyes green?”

  “No, my eyes have always been blue. You must be thinking of somebody else.”

  “Maybe.”

  ❖

  Dennis waited until Roxanne dressed before putting a call through to her. He liked to watch her when she first woke up. She looked even more beautiful with her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed. For the hundredth time, not without a twinge of guilt, Dennis wished she would get dressed within the camera’s field of view. Half of him was glad she didn’t. He wasn’t sure he could handle that.

  “Hi, Dennis,” she answered perkily. She pulled on boots and reached for a sweater. “What’s up?”

  “Good morning. You seem pretty chipper this morning.” Her checks were flushed and her eyes shone with an unusual brightness.

  “I am. I’m a little nervous, too. Daddy’s going to show me the new house.” She slipped into the sweater and shuddered.

  “Is it cold there?” Dennis asked, seeing her shiver.

  “No, I’m just a little nervous. All those people at the site. Builders and gardeners. Maybe I won’t have to get out of the car.”

  “Roxanne, honey, are you almost ready?” Gregory Atwell called from off camera.

  Roxanne jumped off the foot of the bed. “There’s Daddy. I’ve got to go. Bye, I’ll call you when I get back.” She blew Dennis a kiss as she reached out to end the call.

  Dennis watched her leave the room. He didn’t remember the last time he’d seen her go outside or even heard her mention outside. Whenever he brought it up, she changed the subject. Dennis often thanked God that Roxanne never asked to meet him; to go out on a date. But lately, he felt like meeting her. All those hours of watching her and not being able to touch her. Even the feedback capabilities of the suit couldn’t feel a video image.

  I wonder how I’d look to her; would she be disgusted? Maybe I should get a mirror.

  ❖

  Dennis woke slowly. A dream of searching for someone in a crowd of shifting faces lingered briefly before being driven away by the harsh, insistent buzzing filling the room. Dennis pried his eyelids open and stared at the clock. 3:48 a.m. Much too early to be awake, so it couldn’t be his alarm. He searched for another explanation for the ruthless sound. This hour of the morning, it sounded like the trumps of doom. And it wasn’t stopping.

  Dennis heaved himself into a semi-sitting position with a groan. Even losing thirty pounds over the past three years didn’t make it any easier to sit up in the morning.

  The buzzing continued. “What is it?” Dennis yelled to the ceiling. He knew the answer even as he spoke. “The phone. The goddamn phone. This had better be important.” He belted on a robe as he walked to the couch.

  “Answer phone, outgoing audio only.” He sprawled on the couch, almost falling asleep in the half-second before the call came through.

  “Dennis?” a female voice sobbed.

  Dennis opened his eyes. Roxanne stared wildly from the screen, tears flowing down her face.

  “Dennis, are you there? Why can’t I see you? Oh, Dennis, answer me!”

  “Roxanne? What’s wrong?”

  “Dennis, where are you? I can’t see you.”

  “My video output isn’t working. I was going to take a look at it in the morning. What’s the matter?” He sat up straight, finger-combing his hair and pulling the robe tighter around his body.

  “I want to see you.” The words rushed out of her.

  “I told you, my video output’s not working.”

  “I have to see you. Can you see me?” She looked straight into the camera, pushing strands of hair from her face.

  Dennis smiled fondly at her. “Yes, I can see you perfectly. You look beautiful, as always. What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

  “I don’t know. It’s my father. No, it’s not Daddy. It’s me. Do you really think I’m beautiful?”

  “Sure I do.” Dennis’s head spun with the early hour and the speed of her words.

  “Do you love me?” she asked, looking piercingly at the screen for a second and then turning away.

  Dennis opened his mouth and closed it again. He groped for the screen.

  “Dennis?” Roxanne started crying silently. “Dennis, I really need to know. You know me better than anyone. I told you things I would never tell anybody. At first it was because there was nobody else to talk to, but then I did it because I wanted to talk to you. You’re my best friend. The only one I feel comfortable with. And I love you.” She wiped at her tears and sat back in the chair breathing heavily.

  Dennis stared dumbfounded at the screen. Me looked around his
grungy two-room apartment; at the dishes in the sink, the faked photos of his alter-identities on their faked vacations. He stared at his cloudy reflection in the image of Roxanne’s darkened room. “Uh, I love you, too.”

  Roxanne smiled weakly. “You don’t sound too sure.”

  “I never sound sure at three o’clock in the morning. No, really I’m sure. I just never thought about it before. But I guess I do. I tell you everything. You know all my fears and dreams. You make me laugh. You laugh at my stupid jokes....” Dennis paced around the room. “So I love you and you love me. Now what? And what were you so upset about?”

  “My father wants to kick me out.”

  “What?”

  “Dennis, do you know how old I am?”

  Trying to follow the switch in conversation, Dennis guessed wildly. “Twenty-five?”

  “I’m thirty-four. I’ve known you for two years and I never even told you my age. And you know something else I never told you—the reason why I always call you from the same room?” She stood up from her chair and walked around the room, touching her possessions. “I never leave my room.”

  “Never? What about a few months ago, when you went to see the house?”

  “I didn’t go. I couldn’t. I got as far as the road, and I saw all the people.... I lost it. I made Daddy take me home.”

  “But we talked about it.”

  “I lied. Daddy showed me some pictures.” She looked directly at him. “Dennis, I wanted to see it so badly. It’s your house. You designed it. Sometimes I pretend you designed it for me.” She smiled shyly.

  “I would love to build you a house. I would build you a castle.”

  “But how would I get there if I couldn’t leave?” She started crying again, hiding her face in her hands.

  “Roxanne, honey.” She looked up at that. “I understand. Please believe me.” Dennis gestured sincerely, even though she couldn’t see him. “I know what’s it’s like to hide. It’s so easy.”

  She looked at him. “Yes, it is. But now Daddy says it’s time to stop hiding. And I want to, but I’m scared. I’m scared, Dennis, and you’re the only one I trust. That’s why I want to see you. I want to come to your house. I think I would feel safe with you.” Her eyes seemed to meet his briefly before she turned away.