by T L Barrett
“How was—Wait a minute. What happened? Why have you got that shit-eating grin on your face?” Glen asked.
“What grin?” Barry asked.
“You got high, didn’t you? I hope you brought me back some. I could use it,” Glen said. “I need to get really high, maybe then I could find a spirit guide that is worth half a shit.”
“No, I didn’t get high. I met someone. I met the someone, I think. Her name is Brenda, and…”
“That’s great! You met someone. What about Stephanie, and the other one…the one with the huge tits?” Glen asked.
“Those were just girls, a lark. Brenda’s a real woman.”
“How old is she?” Glen asked.
“She’s forty-one,” Barry said.
“Oh, that makes me sick! Don’t tell me about it, man. I don’t want to know. Each to his own, but can we go now?” Glen said.
“Actually, Brenda had to have a late lunch with her daughter and her daughter’s new boyfriend, but after that, she’s invited me to have dinner and spend the evening with her,” Barry said.
“Spend the evening with her? What does that mean?”
“It means, my friend, don’t wait up!” Barry giggled and turned to the mouth of the cave.
“Fine, see you later, then, I guess,” Glen said. “If I were you I’d stop at the store before you go.”
“Right! Breath mints! Thanks, buddy,” Barry said.
“Actually, I was thinking Ben Gay so you can rub that all over her sore old lady parts.”
“Have fun masturbating in the cave!” Barry called back on his way back toward the road.
“Fuck you. Fuck you very much,” Glen muttered and probed at his wounds again.
* * * *
Brenda didn’t mention that her daughter’s boyfriend’s contact slid onto his unblemished cheek. She pretended small talk as his vertically slit pupil regarded her.
Just before the entrées arrived, the boyfriend, Daniel Westmore, an up-and-coming trader and entrepreneur, excused himself to the ‘little boy’s room’.
“Isn’t he just wonderful, mom?” Jessica asked. Apparently, her daughter had been too busy studying her mother’s reaction to notice the fact that her boyfriend was apparently not human.
“I think he’s a very ambitious…young man,” Brenda managed. She started patting her mouth with the napkin and ended up patting her face entire.
“Oh, come on, Mom! What’s that supposed to mean?” Jessica asked.
“I just think you should be careful, sweet heart. There’s something about him that reminds me—”
“Of Dad. Yeah, I knew you’d say that,” Jessica said with a pout and a crossing of her arms across her chest.
“Actually,” Brenda thought, “I was going to say that he reminds me of a snake, especially the slit pupils in his cold dead inhuman right eye, but yeah, what the heck, he reminds me of my ex-husband, too.”
“You know that’s why you haven’t met anyone, yourself, Mom,” her innocent little daughter said. Brenda had an impulse to pick up her daughter and run from the place. “You compare everyone to Dad. You are too judgmental to find a man.”
“Well, for your information, young lady, I have met someone.”
“What?” Jessica beamed all full of happy curiosity about this turn of events. It was what made Brenda love her daughter so much. It also made her want to warn her daughter, all the more. She considered writing on her napkin under the table.
“Who is he? What does he do?”
“Well, he’s an…activist of sorts…” Brenda managed.
“Man, that’s not like Dad at all! When did this happen?”
“It’s recent, honey,” Brenda said. Suddenly, Daniel Westmore was over the table again, this time, grinning harmlessly, both of his contacts in place.
“Why don’t you use the bathroom before the entrées get here, sweetie,” Brenda suggested.
“Jesus, Mom, I’m not six anymore!” Jessica said.
“Oh, I know, my girl’s all grown up! I just thought it would give Daniel and I to get a little better acquainted.
Jessica winked and pistol shot her mother before getting up and scurrying to the little girl’s room.
Brenda folded the cloth napkin with studious attention. She could feel the stare from the man across the table from her. Finally, she drew in a little breath and raised her eyes to him.
The monster pretending to be Daniel Westmore stared at her with the pre-possessed lazy hate of a snake. Brenda opened her mouth to speak.
Daniel stopped her with a slow shake of his head. Slowly he put a manicured finger up to his lips. Brenda had never felt like a shrew before, but under that creature’s stare she did.
Daniel completed the deadly little game of charades they were apparently engaged in. He motioned toward Jessica’s empty chair and swept his hand back toward where she had gone off to the rest room. Then, as if rubbing an itch he drew his hand over and his front and slid a finger over his windpipe.
“I was just telling your mother about the possibilities of acquisition in Venice, and that we might be spending some time there in the next few months,” Daniel said when Jessica returned.
“Mom, have you been crying?” Jessica asked.
“Oh, no, honey,” Brenda smiled quickly and dabbed her eyes with her napkin. “It’s just these damned allergies is all.”
* * * *
“Something tells me I’m into something good!” Barry hummed to himself as he waited at the bar.
“Somebody has gotten lucky, I’m guessing,” a middle-aged poet in the poet’s uniform of tweed coat with elbow patches said.
“No, I haven’t,” Barry said over his drink, then he turned and grinned: “but the night is still young.”
“I’m sorry, I’m flattered, but…”
“No, I meant that I am meeting someone here, my date, a girl,” Barry said.
“Oh, ho!” the poet said theatrically, “well done, sir!” He did a little annoying tip of the hat gesture to Barry. “Wait a minute! You look really familiar. Have we met before?”
“No. I’m really flattered…but like I said, I’m meeting—”
“No, I’m sure of this. Damn it, I’m just drunk enough and not drunk enough to recall it. I know you.”
“No, you don’t,” Barry said. “I’ll be waiting over there,” he told the bartender. The bartender nodded and went back to prepping the bar for the evening of literary lushes.
Barry just settled in at an angle to hide his face when Brenda appeared at his table.
“Oh, thank goodness, Barry. I couldn’t find you at first!” Brenda said. Barry looked up to see Brenda in an obviously upset frame of mind.
“Brenda, is everything all right?” Barry said, rose and put a hand on her arm.
“Oh, Barry, I don’t know what to do? What am I going to do?”
“Hey, slow down. Why don’t I get you a drink and then you can tell me what’s bothering you,” Barry said. He marveled quietly at how together he felt around this wonderful woman.
He motioned to the bartender.
“Hey, I’ve got it! Holy Moley!” the poet said and got up from his stoop. “I totally know where I’ve seen you before.”
“Oh, shit!” Barry said. The poet walked close and leaned over the table.
“I’m pretty sure that you are that guy, aren’t you? You are, aren’t you? You’re that monster man, what’s his name, Barry Trudeau. Yes, you’re—”
Brenda screamed and started slapping the poet.
“He grabbed me! You pervert! Somebody call security!” Brenda shouted.
The bartender was talking into a phone instantly.
“Wait a minute,” the poet said. “I didn’t touch any—” He was interrupted by the two security men who dragged him out of the bar.
Barry looked over at the woman across the table from him and felt a deep and abiding love for her.
“Thanks, Brenda. Why don’t you tell me about what’s bothering you,” B
arry asked.
“Actually, can we go up to my room and talk? I think I’d feel safer there,” Brenda said.
“Of course,” Barry said. “I thought you’d never ask!”
Brenda managed a smile. Barry came around and helped her to her feet. She took his hand and they walked like that, like two lovers all the way to her room on the third floor.
They sat on the bed and she told him what had happened.
“Sounds like a naga. I’ve run into them, I think I told you a little about that cult guy? It’s not good, but it doesn’t sound like your daughter is in any immediate danger yet. The naga will probably want to use her as leverage on your ex and his company. He obviously knows that you know, however, which isn’t good. He won’t want your daughter to find out. He’ll do anything to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Oh, Barry, you can’t leave me. I’m so scared!” Brenda cried.
“I won’t leave you, I promise,” he said. She cried then, and he held her, and then at some point she started kissing his neck and his cheek, and then they were kissing.
Afterwards they lay sprawled in each other’s naked arms and looked at the ceiling in wonder.
“Can we do it again, but this time, can you change into your wolf self?”
“I’m not sure you could handle it, darling,” Barry drawled.
“Oh, looks like I’ve got a hostage of my own!” she said and squeezed. Barry complied with her request.
Brenda Woodmansee handled it, very well.
* * * *
Glen tried to sleep. Being in a cave again was nice, but he kept having to pretend that Barry was just down the hill, and not a couple of miles away in some fancy hotel room banging an old lady.
He thought about what that would be like. Not the old lady part, but the part about walking around at a conference where people weren’t dressed up like aliens and superheroes and having people be okay with that. Maybe, now, because of what Barry had done, maybe those days were coming. Glen imagined what it would be like to act in movies, or go to Applebee’s or go to a comic book shop.
He imagined that he just stared in a superhero movie, but he had been slightly injured on the set and he had to go and see the doctor. He would sign autographs to the all the wet-eyed little bastards in the lobby and then he’d get called to his room. It turned out that he would need two nurses, something about weight limits and personnel needs. In his fantasy, Glen’s two nurses looked exactly like Rhonda and Clea. They examined him very thoroughly.
Glen was asleep in five short minutes.
* * * *
Glen dreamed he was walking in the desert and talking to Stan Lee. They talked ideas around for a line of comic books about him and Barry and the girls in Saint Louis. Things were looking good, until Barry started screaming in the distance.
“You are hearing that, too, aren’t you?” Stan asked.
“Yeah, but go on with what you were saying Stan,” Glen said.
“I think this is your chance to be a hero, my friend,” Stan said, and patted Glen on the arm.
Glen roared in triumph and leapt through the air. He flew for a while and enjoyed the feeling of wind in his hair until he saw a coyote struggling in a trap. As he approached, the coyote called out in Barry’s voice.
“Hey, buddy, can you give me a hand. I’ve gotten myself into a real pickle this time,” the coyote told him.
“You’re not going to bite me this time?” Glen asked.
“What? Are you kidding? You are my best friend, buddy,” Barry said. “Hurry, up okay? I can hear snakes coming.” Glen looked around and hurried to his friend’s side. He pried the manacles away, but then saw that the coyote had also been shot in the chest.
“Barry, talk to me man!” he said.
“Every time we get with women, the snakes always show up. Have you noticed that? I think it must be a universal male condition, huh?” Barry/Coyote asked, and then went limp.
“Barry!” Glen screamed.
He woke up to his own scream echoing back to him from the mouth of the cave.
“My spirit guide!” Glen panted. “Barry needs me!”
Glen leapt to his feet and hit his head on the ceiling. He crawled around on the floor for a while and cursed. Finally, he rallied, and ran out into the desert night.
* * * *
Barry sat in the sunshine outside Glen’s cave in the Vermont hills. From inside the cave, his mother kept calling and telling him it was bed time.
“I’m fine, Mom!” he called. “I’m not the kind of guy that crawls back into caves after he’s left.”
“That may be the studliest thing you have ever said,” Mister Cuddles said from where he was perched on a rock. Barry looked up and saw Mister Cuddles giving him that fox-like grin that had burned itself into Barry’s heart. Mister Cuddles tucked his head, leaned back and began to lap himself.
“Mister Cuddles, you’re alive!” Barry said, jumping up.
“You betcha!” Mister Cuddles mumbled and sank his snout lower, between his red legs.
“You can talk!” Barry said.
“Yeah, I can, but this is way more fun,” Mister Cuddles said, lapping at himself eagerly.
“You know there were days when I was very jealous of your ability to do that,” Barry said.
“Yeah, well, you don’t have to worry about that these days. That Brenda, she’s a fox!” Mister Cuddles looked up and grinned.
Barry laughed outrageously.
“Seriously, Barry, You have to wake up! Some wicked shit is about to go down!” Mister Cuddles said.
Barry bolted into a panic and ran one way, stopped, and ran another.
“You can wake up in just a millisecond, buddy,” Mister Cuddles said. “Before you do, could you put out some beer in my bowl?”
“Sure,” Barry said. He poured out a beer into Mister Cuddle’s little bowl and…
…woke in a warm bliss. Brenda’s naked back lay against his stomach. He didn’t want this night to end. He didn’t want the sun to come up.
Something stirred at the end of the bed.
“Brenda,” a man’s voice called from the end of the bed.
“Wha—” Brenda murmured, rising from sleep.
“Brenda, get dressed. You and I are going for a ride. Before you make a sound, I want you to think about Jessica. You love Jessica. You don’t want anything to happen to her.”
“Barry?” Brenda asked.
“No, Brenda, it’s Daniel. You need to get up like a good mother and get dressed,” Daniel said from the end of the bed.
Barry reached up and pushed the button on the bedside lamp.
Daniel was standing with a pistol with a silencer on the end at the end of the bed. He hadn’t bothered with his contacts this time. Barry remembered the man leaping from the stage during his short stint with the sex cult.
“You!” Barry and Daniel shouted at the same moment.
“You know him?” Brenda asked and held the sheets over her chest.
“That’s the sex cult leader I was telling you—” Barry began.
Daniel shot Barry three times in the chest. Barry fell back against the pillow.
Brenda screamed.
Daniel leapt onto the bed and pushed the gun down against Brenda’s head.
“Silence, you cow! We need to get out of here now! Get some clothes on, or I swear your daughter will pay for your disobedience!”
A knock came from the hotel room door.
“Mom, was that you! Mom open up!” Jessica’s voice came from the other side. Daniel and Brenda looked up at the door.
Barry leapt, a flurry of hair and teeth. He took Daniel off the bed with him. The gun fell onto the floor.
Barry tore prosthetic skin off the naga in ribbons. The naga dug back with his own claws. Blood hit the large wall mirror behind them. Barry pried his nails under some scales on Daniel’s side. The naga hissed and coiled forward striking Barry with his head. They fell apart. Barry fell against the wall, and the ceilin
g mirror came down on top of him with a crash. He pushed it off him, but the naga was waiting.
Daniel grabbed Barry’s arm and drove his knee up against Barry’s face. Barry fell back against the wall a second time, pinned by Daniel.
Daniel opened his mouth, too wide for any man’s, and bared two sinister fangs. They dripped venom. Barry struggled under the tensile strength of the Naga’s grip as Daniel came forward to give him one deadly bite.
Brenda brought the lamp from her side of the bed down on the back of Daniel’s head. He fell away, and Barry kicked out, connecting with Daniel’s midsection. Daniel flipped over and reached for the gun which Brenda dove for as well. Daniel grasped at the woman and clawed her across the arm. Brenda twisted and fired the gun. Daniel ducked and Barry fell over from the fourth bullet impact.
“Oh, Barry, I’m sorry!” Brenda squealed.
“Mom, open up the door!” Melissa screamed from outside.
Daniel leapt to his feet and circled around by the window. Brenda circled to toward the door, keeping the gun trained on the naga.
“Give me the gun, Brenda!” Daniel hissed.
Barry hooked Daniel with his claws in the lower back and the back of the neck. He lifted him and tossed him through the window.
Daniel flew out of sight and down three stories. Barry went to the window.
There was a loud smacking sound from below.
“Is he dead?” Brenda asked. “Would that kill him?”
“I don’t know. We have to get you and Jessica out of here!” Barry panted.
“I’m so sorry I shot you!” Brenda said and came forward. She kissed him.
“Aw, heck, it was worth it. Let your daughter in, and get dressed, quick.”
Barry transformed and struggled into his jeans and threw his jean jacket on. Brenda had her clothes on and was at the door by the time Barry turned around.
“Mom, what’s the matter! What’s going on! I woke up from this awful dream about you, and Daniel wasn’t there and—who the hell is that?” she pointed at Barry. Brenda closed the door.
“Honey, this is Barry. We have to leave here right now!” Brenda said.
“Wait a minute what happened here. What did you do to her?” Jessica demanded.
“Your boyfriend attacked us. He’s a monster, a bad one.”