Kaiju Rising: Age of Monsters

by James Swallow

“My grandma said monsters are real,” Sukie replied calmly. “And she’s right. You’re just afraid.”

  “My mom said that we should be afraid,” Cody muttered. “She said no one should ask them to visit.”

  “It’s okay. They’re my friends.” Sukie reached out and patted Cody’s hand. “But don’t worry, I won’t let them hurt you.”

  Mrs. George expected Cody to pull his hand away. Girls still had cooties at this age, and the boy was so upset with Sukie that she didn’t expect him to be pleasant.

  But instead of belligerence, Cody relaxed. “You promise?”

  Sukie nodded. “I promise.” She looked up at Mrs. George. “I won’t let them hurt you, either, Missus Gee.”

  “Well, thank you, dear. That’s very brave and kind of you. Now, Cody, are we all alright here?”

  He nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry, Missus Gee.”

  She squeezed his shoulder. “It’s okay. We all get scared sometimes.”

  She headed back towards her desk, but as she did, something moved in her peripheral vision. It was Sukie’s picture—it still looked like an over-fat T-Rex, but it no longer looked crudely drawn. Now it looked filled in and real. And she could have sworn she’d seen it move.

  But when she looked at the drawing directly, all that was there were the green and brown crayon scribbles Sukie had done.

  Mrs. George shrugged and went back to the front of the room. “Class, are we ready for Story Time? Today we’ll read Clifford, The Big Red Dog.”

  The children all cheered, Cody included, and Mrs. George went happily back to the normal routine of her day.

  ~

  The normal routine lasted until recess. Sukie wasn’t playing with the other children. She was off in a corner, under a tree, crayons and paper with her, busily drawing. Her face was wrinkled in concentration and her crayons moved swiftly over the paper.

  Mrs. George wondered if she should reprimand Sukie for bringing the art supplies outside. The children weren’t supposed to do this. However, the girl wasn’t bothering anyone, and she was taking good care with both crayons and paper.

  Mrs. George looked around. There was a belligerence in the air that wasn’t normal. As she watched, several small scuffles broke out, between children who normally didn’t fight with anyone, let alone each other.

  She and the other teachers and aides broke these little fights up. All participants seemed on edge, which was to be expected, but none seemed angry, which wasn’t. Students from her class and Mr. Crandall’s upper grade glass were the most involved, percentage-wise. Spradlin was in Mr. Crandall’s class.

  At least one child per fight had a picture of some kind of “monster” on their person or identified as theirs. Only those from her class and Mr. Crandall’s. Mrs. George looked at each drawing. Some were lizard-based, some aquatic, and a few looked like giant trees, but all had a great many fangs and claws and such. She was certain they were all Sukie’s work.

  Each child who had a drawing was hysterical to get their picture back, either from the teachers or, in a few cases, from the children they’d been fighting. She and the other teachers discussed punishments. No one was truly hurt, and all the children were so riled up, discretion seemed the better course. A few minutes of Quiet Time to think over bad behavior was determined to be the appropriate course of action. In order to ensure all the children would be able to calm down, they decided full confiscation wasn’t the right answer either.

  So each child got their drawing back. Every one of them seemed more relieved than normal for something like this. The children who didn’t have drawings seemed envious. Mrs. George wondered if the fights had started because children without drawings had tried to take them away from children who had them. Then she dismissed this idea as silly.

  This excitement filled the majority of recess time, and most of the school had come to gather around while the fights were subdued. However, a fast headcount showed there were some missing, from her class and Mr. Crandall’s.

  Mrs. George looked back to Sukie. Who had all the missing children near her, either waiting in a well-ordered line or standing off to the side, pieces of paper held in their hands.

  Sukie finished a drawing and handed it to the next child in line, who happened to be Cody. He trotted off to the other group, looking quite happy.

  As the first bell rang and the children all trooped back inside, Mrs. George called him over. “What do you have there?”

  The boy held the paper up for her to see, but didn’t hand it to her. “My own monster!”

  This drawing was no better or worse than the others Sukie had created. It was crude, and from her lizard-like group, only this one was reddish, with wings, a long, sharp beak, and six claws on each foot, of which it also had six. In keeping with what appeared to be Sukie’s theme, there were extra claws on the wings, as well.

  “I thought you didn’t like monsters.” This one resembled a bigger version of a pterodactyl, with more legs, feet, and claws than a real one. “This looks a little…scary.”

  “This one’s mine, so it won’t hurt me,” Cody said, all happy confidence. “Or you, Missus Gee,” he added loyally. He trotted off, carrying his drawing carefully.

  Mrs. George took a good look at the children in line. All were in her class. The ones in the other group were all in Mr. Crandall’s class. She wasn’t sure if this was good or bad but, as Sukie handed another drawing to Lori, who took it and skipped off, the second bell rang.

  Sukie said something and the other children headed for the classroom. Some looked disappointed, others crestfallen, some worried. Only Cody and Lori and the others who had drawings already seemed happy and contented.

  Sukie was last in and, as she took her seat, Mrs. George wondered if she should just allow Sukie to keep on drawing or not.

  “We’re going to have Quiet Time because there were a lot of children behaving badly.”

  The children who had drawings, whether they’d been in fights or not, hunched protectively over their pictures.

  “I’m sorry, Missus Gee,” Sukie said. “I’m doing my best. I had to take care of Spradlin’s class first because they’re old and bigger.”

  How to reply to this? Clearly Sukie felt the fights were over her drawings. The rest of the class’ expressions showed they agreed.

  “Well, Sukie, you weren’t involved in the fighting.” At least, not intentionally. “Why don’t all of you who weren’t a part of it color? Those who were, you just sit quietly and consider why fighting isn’t a good thing.”

  “Sometimes it’s good, Missus Gee,” Lori said. “Sometimes you have to fight. Like in the Civil War and stuff.” The other children nodded, but Sukie’s attention returned to her drawing.

  “Well, yes,” Mrs. George acknowledged. “But not over petty things, children.”

  Cody opened his mouth, but before he could speak Sukie reached over and touched his arm. The boy shut his mouth immediately.

  Mrs. George decided to let this play out.

  ~

  “And then, the children just acted as if everything was normal,” she told her husband over dinner. “But it wasn’t normal. We had Quiet Time for the rest of the day and not one of them complained or acted restless.”

  “Did every child get a drawing?” he asked as he cut into his steak. He sounded about as interested in her work as he normally did, which was barely. Her work was never as interesting as his.

  “Yes. It just seemed…easier to let Sukie draw pictures for the other children.”

  “Then you handled it right.”

  “I suppose. But, how was your day?” Mr. George was a police officer, and normally he was the one with the unusual stories, not her. She didn’t allow herself to feel disappointed that he wasn’t that interested in the oddities of her day. She’d gotten used to it years ago.

  “Something like yours. More petty crimes, increase in domestic calls, lots of fighting. Some issues on one of the oil rigs.”

  “On the rigs? What h
appened?”

  “Fighting mostly. A couple of the riggers went over into the ocean. Not our problem. That’s what the Coast Guard’s for. We were informed because we had to notify next of kin.” He gave her a comforting smile. “None of the parents at James Conason Elementary, don’t worry. I always check.”

  “Hard not to worry what with all this…fighting.”

  He shrugged. “Full moon’s coming. You know it makes the crazies crazier.”

  “The children didn’t seem crazy. They seemed…scared.”

  He finished his meal quickly, shoved his plate back, and patted her hand. “I’m sure it’s just a little fancy that will pass. Some popular TV show or something.”

  “Something…I suppose.”

  “Double shift time. Don’t wait up.” He got up as quickly as he’d eaten, eager to get back to work.

  In the early days of their marriage, Mr. George had worked double shifts so he could move up and they could have a better life more quickly. Once he’d reached a better pay grade he’d stopped, so they could spend more time together, especially since they’d never had children and only had each other.

  But for the past couple of years he’d started taking more and more double shifts. Mrs. George had given up asking why. She had her suspicions, and they didn’t center around Mr. George trying to make a better life for the two of them. They centered around the fact that Mr. George had a beat that covered most of the strip clubs near the seedier casinos.

  Mr. George gave her a quick kiss and headed out the door. Saving her from dwelling on what had happened to their relationship or having to ask herself why she hadn’t mentioned the drawing Sukie had given her, at the end of the day, just before the final bell rang. She hadn’t wanted to mention it, in part because she couldn’t explain to her husband why she had it in her pocket, and why she didn’t want to let it out of her reach.

  Her drawing was of a dragon, meaning Sukie was branching out into mythology. Crude, like all the others and, as with the other drawings, not quite like a dragon should be. Six legs, three sets of wings, with the middle set being the largest and, as also with Sukie’s other drawings, lots and lots of claws and teeth.

  Mrs. George also didn’t mention that if she looked at this drawing just right, out of the corner of her eye, it looked much more real. And very much alive.

  ~

  The next day Mrs. George noticed a change in the class. Whereas the day before they had seemed nervous, frightened, and belligerent, today they seemed expectant.

  The moment everyone was seated and the tardy bell had rung, Sukie raised her hand. “Missus Gee, may we sing a song, please?”

  This was an odd request, but there was nothing wrong with a little singing. “Certainly. What song?”

  Sukie cleared her throat and began to sing. “Good morning to you, good morning to you…”

  The other children joined in. “We’re all in our places, with bright shining faces, good morning to you.”

  “Well, isn’t that nice? Did you know that schoolchildren used to sing that song for their teachers about a hundred years ago? Where did you learn it, a television show?” If this was now a song from a new, popular show, then perhaps all the rest would be, as Mr. George said, easily explained.

  “No,” Sukie said. “Missus Gee, you need to sing, too.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes,” the little girl said emphatically, “you do. Do you still have what I gave you?”

  Mrs. George looked at the class. They all looked expectant and, she realized, they all had their drawings on their desks. “Yes, I do, Sukie. I see we all do.” She pulled the drawing from her purse and put it onto her desk.

  “Put your hands on your picture,” Sukie said. “And then we all sing.”

  Mrs. George had learned how to prevent a first grader from taking over her class in her first year of teaching. However, there was something in Sukie’s tone and expression that made Mrs. George do as requested.

  “Now do we sing?” Cody asked Sukie.

  The girl cocked her head, as if listening to something. Then she nodded. “Now.”

  They sang. The song ended and Mrs. George waited. Nothing. She cleared her throat. Time to take back control of the class and put them onto their regular schedule. “Well, that was a nice way to begin the day. Let’s all pull out our math books and—”

  Lightning flashed and, moments later, thunder rolled. The ground rumbled and shook and the windows rattled. She’d heard the sound and felt the movement before, many times. A sudden storm had arisen. Perhaps the children had picked up that it was coming, just as animals were supposed to be able to do. Perhaps that was why they’d been so strange.

  Mrs. George stood up. “Class, orderly lines, please, like we’ve practiced.” In case of hurricane, all the children were to go to the auditorium, which had the least windows and where the school could ensure everyone was accounted for.

  The children all looked at Sukie. Who nodded. They got up and headed for the door. As she counted heads and ensured everyone was out of the classroom, Mrs. George happened to look down at Cody’s desk. While the paper Sukie had given him the day before was there, there was no drawing on it.

  It was foolish and foolhardy, but she looked at the other desks. All the children had left their papers, but all the pages were blank. She hurried back to her desk, telling herself it was to grab her purse. But as she did so, she verified that the page Sukie had given her was now blank as well.

  Lightning and thunder hit again, this time with almost no break in between. The sound was louder than before and the ground shook again. Mrs. George trotted outside. There would be time to figure out what was going on later, once the hurricane was over.

  But, as things turned out, what was causing the ground to shake wasn’t thunder, lightning, or a hurricane. It was Mr. Crandall.

  ~

  Well, it might be Mr. Crandall. Or, rather, it might possibly be Mr. Crandall, on a very strange and frightening day.

  There was a creature—a giant creature—standing in the middle of the playground. It resembled a giant lizard, but more sinuous, and it had flippers. She realized it was much more like a pliosaur, only with many teeth and claws on the flippers which the original pliosaurs hadn’t had.

  It also had Mr. Crandall’s face, or what was left of his face. As she watched, his face melted into the giant monster, forming a shining face shape around his eyes. The only thing that seemed to remain of Mr. Crandall were his eyes—she was very sure they were Mr. Crandall’s eyes still.

  There was bedlam, of course. Only not from everyone. The children in Mr. Crandall’s class and hers weren’t running, screaming, or crying. They were all looking at Mr. Crandall, but without fear. Just as she was.

  Cody took her hand. “Ready, Missus Gee?”

  “Ready for what, Cody?”

  “To make things right,” Sukie said, as she took Mrs. George’s other hand. “We’ve been chosen.”

  A woman stepped out and stood in front of whatever Mr. Crandall had become. It was Mrs. Selwyn. She smiled, a very feral smile, and Mrs. George felt afraid for the first time.

  Mrs. Selwyn raised her arms and all of a sudden, she grew. And then she changed. First there was a giant woman and then, as lightning struck and thunder rolled, there was a giant tree, with arms and legs, covered in bark that looked like sharp scales, vicious branches replacing limbs and digits, and there, in the center, Mrs. Selwyn’s face.

  Her face melted into the tree leaving, as with Mr. Crandall, only a shining shape of her former face around the eyes. The eyes looked human, only old; ancient really. And they looked around with clear malevolence.

  The Selwyn-Tree roared something to the Pliosaur-Crandall, which in turn roared at the children who were in Mr. Crandall’s class. Starting with Spradlin, the children all changed. They were lizard-like, or dinosaur-like, some aquatic, even a few tree and plant-like creatures. None were as big as either the Selwyn-Tree or the Pliosaur-Crandall, though they w
ere still quite huge. But all ended up with bright, flat, shining faces around human eyes—human eyes that flashed with hatred when they actually looked at humans.

  The tree looked straight at Mrs. George now, and her mouth went dry. The hatred from the Selwyn-Tree was intense, almost physical it was so strong.

  Sukie squeezed her hand. “It’s okay, Missus Gee. Grandma doesn’t hate you at all. Changing doesn’t hurt. And you’ll be happy once it’s through.”

  “Can I go next?” Cody asked. He sounded breathlessly excited.

  The tree looked at him and nodded. “All of you…now.” It was a horrible voice, loud, screeching, jarring, and definitely malevolent. “Sukie, lead the way.”

  One by one her class turned into giant monsters, just a little smaller than the monsters who’d been Mr. Crandall’s class only minutes ago. Each one was a replica of what Sukie had drawn. Each one kept the shining, flat outline of their original faces along with their own eyes, but Mrs. George was sure they weren’t interpreting what they saw with their childish, human minds. Whatever their minds had become, human wasn’t it.

  Sukie was a giant T-Rex, only more so. Cody was now a nightmare version of a pterodactyl, Lori some kind of giant squid, and the other children were the same, or worse, depending on where you stood on the tentacles versus limbs debate.

  The Selwyn-Tree came to her, its leg-like roots tearing up the ground as it moved. “You fear. You think you should stay. Let me show you what you want to save.” A tree limb swung towards her and Mrs. George flinched, but it landed gently on her head.

  She saw an image of Mr. George at work the night before, but he wasn’t alone. He also wasn’t fully dressed. He was making love to one of the female officers she’d met once or twice, making love in a very animalistic way he hadn’t done with Mrs. George for years.

  “You’re making that up.” But she knew it was true, had known it was true for those same years.

  “You know I’m not. He has betrayed you as they all have betrayed us.”

  “But the others…” Mrs. George found herself using the favored line of reasoning she’d heard from her students for years. “It’s not fair.”