To Love A Monster

by Marina Simcoe

  It took him a moment to reply, as if my hands had put him in trance and he needed some time to come back.

  “I better be,” he smirked finally, “after the pile of pills I just took.”

  I flexed my fingers, tugging on his mane slightly. His promise not to harm me made me bolder.

  “You have a hard time being nice, don’t you?” I said sweetly, still leaning to his ear. “All you have to do is say thank you.”

  A smile curved his mouth, putting the sharp, snow-white canines on display.

  “Thank you.”

  “See. It wasn’t that hard, was it?” I beamed.

  “You have no idea.” He exhaled a laugh in return.

  “It should get easier with practice.” I patted his shoulder reassuringly. “You just have to do it more often.”

  “Practice?” he scoffed, turning more my way. “What for? There is no one around.”

  “Well,” I suggested slowly. “You could do it simply for the inner satisfaction of being a decent human being.”

  “Human?” He lifted a bushy eyebrow in question. “Do you see anything human in me?”

  “Yes,” I nodded firmly. “You wouldn’t tell me who you are, but—”

  “I have no idea who I am myself,” he barked out abruptly, leaping to his feet.

  “Maybe you don’t.” I rose from my seat too. “But you have a conscience, awareness. You know right from wrong. Start from there—”

  “Start what? Being a decent human being?” His voice rose, heavy with sarcasm, as he paced the room. His tail lashed at his legs with force. “When I look in the mirror, all I see is a beast. There is nothing left of a man, Sophie. Not a thing. There’s no way back for me.”

  “Back?” I whispered, as realization jolted through me like a bolt of lightning. “What do you mean by back?”

  He stopped in his tracks at my question, his back to me. His shoulders heaved as his tail continued to whip around his legs, but he wouldn’t face me.

  “Did you—” I took a few steps around him to see his face, but he turned his head away, refusing to meet my eyes. “Were you a man before?” I leaned to the side, needing to see his expression. “Were you born a human?”

  Slowly, he moved his head my way, and his stare hit me from under the heavy brow.

  Something in the way his eyes flickered between mine for a second made me hopeful that he might explain it all to me. At least he appeared to be considering it for a moment.

  “You were, weren’t you? What happened then?”

  He blinked, his expression turned stony.

  “You promised,” he snarled. “No questions.”

  “Right. No questions.” I nodded with a sigh of disappointment settling heavy in my chest. “I just hope that one day you will trust me enough to tell me.”

  “One day?” he asked quickly. His eyes squinted at me inquisitively. “Will you come back again?”

  “Um,” I twirled the end of my ponytail. Caught unprepared by his question, I realized now that I did want to come back, if just to see how he was doing. Any distant chance of solving the mystery surrounding him was an added incentive. “Well, I’m staying in town for a little while. I could come back. Is there anything else you need me to bring?”

  “Yes.” His answer was quick.

  “Okay. What is it?”

  “A lot of things, actually.” His tone was lighter now, and his shoulders finally relaxed. “Come, we should get on our way to your truck if you want to make it back to town before dark. I’ll tell what I need while we’re walking.”

  “IS YOUR LEG OKAY?” Monster asked again as we headed through the woods.

  “It’s fine. Honestly.” I insisted on walking this time. The snow wasn’t that deep under the trees, and there were still a few hours of daylight left. “It was just a sprain, nothing was broken.”

  “When are you planning to go home to Calgary?” He matched his pace to mine, which made him appear like he was on a leisurely stroll even as my own cheeks heated and my breath came out in pants as if from a strenuous workout.

  “When my leg gets better,” I answered mechanically, giving him the same answer I’d given to anyone who asked.

  I tried to think if I ever actually told him that I lived in Calgary. Maybe I mentioned it sometime the night I spent here, but I couldn’t remember it now.

  There was certainly no rush for me to go back home. Sadly I had to admit there was no one and nothing that waited for me in the city.

  All my volunteering positions were still there for me, but after exchanging emails with my supervisors, I had been reassured all my work had been covered for the time being.

  I missed my mom, of course, but she was in the third month of her relationship with Jeff, the first decent man she had met in years. Even before my trip here, she spent more time at his place than ours, making me feel like I was the mother watching my grown-up daughter leave home to build a new life for herself, instead of the other way around. With her gone most of the time, our townhouse definitely felt a lot like an empty nest to me.

  I was very happy for my mom. She, of all people, deserved to be loved. But I wasn’t looking forward coming back to the empty house. Not yet, anyway.

  It wasn’t that I had a lot going for me in Rocky River either, but I had been enjoying the quiet pace of life there.

  “Actually, I’d like to start something at the school in Rocky River, so I may stay around for another couple of weeks at least. You know, to make sure it’s all up and running properly before I leave.”

  “What is it?”

  I didn’t sense any real interest behind his question and could tell he was asking just to be polite. Still, he was making an effort at conversation.

  “Well, you know it’s not always easy for schools or parents to provide healthy lunches for kids. Around here it’s especially challenging—fresh, healthy food is not cheap and not always available. I thought I could hire Megan—she and her husband Bob own a restaurant in town—to cater hot lunches for the kids during school. Something simple but nutritious. Like a soup or a healthy sandwich. Maybe a small salad and some fruit, too. Stan, the store manager, could get the necessary groceries on order.” The idea took shape in my mind as I spoke. “Maybe just once a week for now. I can also talk with the owners of the charter company here, to see if their pilots could bring some fresh groceries whenever they fly to bigger towns nearby—” I cut myself short, realizing I was babbling, the way I often did in the company of a man, especially, if I found him attractive.

  I blinked, surprised by the thought. Monster could hardly be called attractive, not by any stretch of imagination.

  Could he?

  I peered at him from the corner of my eye. Tall and broad, his shoulders wide, his head held high, he strode through the snow with ease. Each movement alluded to power and strength.

  With his polished horns winding out of his head, tail swishing at his feet, thick, brown fur dusted with snow from the trees, no one would call him handsome by human standards. No one would even call him human, based on his appearance.

  Could he still be considered attractive, though?

  Why would I even wonder about it, at all?

  I cleared my throat, annoyed at myself. “I’m sorry. I get carried away sometimes, talking about things that wouldn’t interest anyone.”

  “I find it fascinating.”

  I glanced at him again, wondering if he was being sarcastic.

  “Sure you do.” I moved my gaze to the snow churning around my boots with each step.

  A rather uncomfortable silence hovered over us, and I didn’t trust myself to break it again—chances were I’d pick another boring topic anyway.

  “What’s in it for you?” Monster spoke first. The hostile note in his voice puzzled me.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re paying out of your own pocket to feed a bunch of kids you don’t know. What are you getting out of it? I don’t imagine there are many PR opportunities ar
ound this godforsaken place. Or is your asshole photographer creating a documentary on your virtuous nature after all?”

  “What are you talking about?” I shook my head, confused by his accusations. “Jason left already. We broke up. I’m not sure what’s made you angry this time. I have a charity budget for each month. And I just happen to be able to allocate some of this money for a school lunch program in Rocky River.” I stopped walking to face him. “Why is it wrong for me to feed these children, in your opinion?”

  “Don’t tell me you’re not getting a credit for your good deeds here.”

  “I’m not interested in PR opportunities, if that’s your concern.”

  “Fine.” He met my gaze. “What are your reasons then? Simply good karma? Are you hoping for a place in heaven?” The undisguised sarcasm in his tone was irritating. I hated to be put on defensive for doing something that felt right. The note of hostility behind his questions bothered me. I might not be perfect, but I didn’t want him to think badly of me.

  Deep inside, however, I knew what made me annoyed more than his tone. For the first time ever, someone questioned my true motives, forcing me to acknowledge them.

  I could have voiced my annoyance or fake offense, brush off his questions or just ignore them all. But something about being this far away from my life in the city led me believe that anything I told him here would stay between us, prompting me to explain.

  “I’ve been doing charity for years now. I started volunteer work when I was still a kid. Then in high school I got more into it. And now, it’s all I do.” I kicked the snow with my boot, watching it fan out, as I tried to put into words things I never had to explain to anyone. “It gives purpose to my life. I don’t feel alone—there’re always people at the shelters or at the Soup Kitchen. No one asks me questions about me, everyone has their own problems to worry about.” I inhaled, raising my gaze to the snow-covered branches behind his shoulder. “I like to think that I’m helping solve their problems a little just by being there for them. I wish I could do more, advise them in some helpful way. But really, people are grateful if you just listen. Even the ones who don’t want to talk sometimes don’t want to be alone. I stay with them, read them a newspaper. Sometimes, all you want is to hear another person’s voice to keep away the loneliness . . .”

  “Whose loneliness?” His voice came from above, calm and thoughtful. “Whose loneliness are you trying to keep away, Sophie? Theirs or yours?”

  Both.

  Definitely both. Because despite my mom and her friends, despite the occasional boyfriends I managed to have, I was always alone in my head—one on one with my thoughts and my nightmares.

  I wasn’t ready for this confession right now, though. My chest tightened with sadness that threatened to drown me, and I shoved it aside refusing to dive any deeper in it.

  “Theirs, Monster. I try to keep people at the shelter from feeling lonely. That’s all I can do, really, in addition to cleaning or paperwork, as well as donations for food and maintenance. I wish I could be more helpful in terms of advice too, but I’m not a counselor—”

  “You could be.”

  His scrutinizing expression made me feel like he could see right through me.

  “Hardly,” I scoffed. “I already have one failed attempt at higher education—”

  “How did you fail?”

  “I dropped out of medical school. I didn’t pass the first-year exams, but really my grades were so low, I should’ve been expelled earlier. My father’s influence was the only thing that kept it going as long as it lasted. Anyway, it’s stupid to keep trying the same thing and expect different results. Right?”

  “Bullshit.” The conviction in his voice was startling. “You’re not stupid, Sophie. The excuse is, though. Just because you failed at becoming a doctor doesn’t mean you can’t do something else. Did you figure out exactly why it didn’t work for you? How come you had bad grades? Did you even want to be a doctor in the first place?”

  I plucked at the fringe of my scarf, considering his questions.

  In high school, I wanted to be a nurse, but Henri pushed a career in law or finance on me. Medical doctor was a compromise, one which Henri was not happy with—but for the first time in my life I had insisted on something and went against his plans for me.

  Of course, when I failed, he was simply livid with rage. He claimed he’d always known I’d turn out to be a disappointment because there was too much of my mother in me. He yelled he never wanted to see me again.

  It was the last time I saw him. Over three years ago.

  “Honestly, it doesn’t matter what I want, Monster. I don’t think I could keep up with any program. I did okay until about the last couple of years of high school.”

  In fact, I had all A’s and was going to graduate with honours. But then I started having trouble. I couldn’t focus for long on anything. No matter how hard I intended to listen to the teachers, the meaning of what they were saying wouldn’t register with me. Anxiety would kick in, paralyzing any comprehension. Eventually, studying became a real struggle and I began avoiding it at all cost. In university, I was skipping classes whenever I could, which made matters only worse of course.

  “I can’t concentrate on academic studies long enough to learn.”

  “You wouldn’t know for sure unless you try studying something you really like,” he retorted.

  “Maybe.”

  I hadn’t even noticed that we’d made it all the way back to the fence until it was right in front of me.

  “You never told me what you want me to bring you next time,” I reminded.

  “Next time?” He blinked as if snapping back from his thoughts.

  “Do you want me to drop by again?”

  “Yes.” He nodded quickly and raked the fingers of both hands through his mane. “Could you bring me some fuel?”

  “Like gas?”

  “Yes. Just make sure it’s pre-mixed with two-stroke oil. Tell them it’s for a chainsaw.”

  “A chainsaw?” I raised an eyebrow. “Do you need a more efficient way to deal with trespassers?”

  The corners of his mouth lifted in a smile.

  “No. The sight of me is enough to chase them away. I just need to do some housekeeping around here.”

  “Okay. I’ll bring you some.”

  “When you come, get on this side of the fence and stay by the opening here. Don’t walk through the forest by yourself. As long as you’re on this side of the fence, I’ll know you’re here and come to get you.”

  THROUGH THE REARVIEW mirror, I watched Monster’s lone figure at the edge of the woods as I drove away.

  He asked me about feeling lonely in a city filled with people. How desperate his own loneliness must be then, with not a soul to talk to?

  How could one still hold on to any humanity inside, being this completely and utterly alone?

  Chapter 15

  MONSTER

  She’ll come back again.

  Monster watched the old truck disappear behind the trees. The remnants of her tantalizing scent still tickled his nostrils. The memories of her light fingers in his mane teased his senses, sending a rush of blood to his groin once again.

  Through a tremendous effort, he had been managing to control his feral lust around her, shoving the wild urges aside with everything he had.

  Still forced to jerk off like a horny teenager when she was safely out of his reach, he held back any thought of ripping those puffy snow pants off her when she was near.

  The trick, as he’d discovered, was not to get too close and not to breathe her scent in too deeply whenever he felt another rush of lust approach.

  Slowly, painfully, he had been learning to control his raging desire for her body. However, the simple longing for her company proved to be so much more difficult to deal with.

  When she left, his prison felt only more oppressive. The woods seemed colder and emptier without her here, the loneliness even more unbearable.

  He
couldn’t go back to the simple existence of an animal in search of oblivion any more. As long as there was another chance to see her, he needed to hold on to any trace of human he had inside him.

  With her, he wanted to be a man, regardless what painful emotions and tormenting memories it brought to him. He would take the pain as long as it came with the pleasure of hearing her voice and feeling her touch.

  It surprised him to discover that his yearning was not just physical. He’d never felt anything beyond sexual desire for a woman before. The glimpses of Sophie as a person, however, stirred his curiosity to know more.

  Her genuine need to help turned out to be so different from the motivations of people in his past. Their actions were always dictated from outside, and their concerns were only about how they would be taken by others. Sophie’s motivation seemed to be coming from the inside, and the benefits were also intrinsic.

  A warm rush of excitement tingled along his skin at the thought of seeing her again soon. Even as a teenager, he never recalled feeling this much anticipation before a date.

  Not a date, you moron. The girl is bringing you gas out of the goodness of her heart. Nothing else.

  There never could be anything else.

  He hadn’t seen himself in the mirror for many years now—ever since he’d destroyed all the mirrors in the house—but he still occasionally glimpsed his reflection in the river and knew that one thing never changed. He was still a monster. On the outside, just as much as he had always been on the inside.

  And here he was luring an innocent back into the den of the beast.

  Guilt scratched at his conscience again, dousing any spark of excitement, and a black cloud of anger moved in from the far corners of his awareness.

  With a snarl, he leaped to his feet and sped through the woods, east to the river, needing the icy water to smother the flames of impending fury.

  As he dashed faster and faster through the trees, knocking the snow off the low-hanging branches, he realized that his anger was not directed at the world, at the circumstances or at other people, but at himself.