by D. M. Guay
I was once again enjoying the lying in bed portion of my avoidance strategy when angel eight ball rolled into my forehead. “You're late.” His arrow pointed at the alarm clock.
10:25. At night. Monday night. A chill ran through me. I was supposed to be at work right now. “No. I'm not.” I was never going back there. No way. I was not gonna get eaten by monsters. I threw angel eight ball on the floor, rolled over and hid under my blanket.
I pulled the comforter over my head, and something growled. I was assaulted by a horrific smell, like rotten tuna that had been left out in the blazing hot sun for ten days, then sprayed with thirty gallons of spring-scented air freshener. “Aaaaaah!”
Yes, I screamed. Angel eight ball put a monster in my bed!
I lifted the covers and kicked my legs, ready to fight. A gray ball emerged from the dark depths. Gertrude! Phew. She hobbled and grunted as she waddled toward me. She thrust her dry pink nose in close to mine, stuck her stinky tongue out and tried to lick me.
“Noooooooooo!” I raised my arm as a shield.
Dude. I had a firm no licking policy. Cat tongue is kitty toilet paper. Cats don't take showers or use soap. I didn't want that on my face. Did you? But Gertrude was determined. She tapped my cheek with her cat-box fake-fresh-scent paw as I tried to Karate block her every move. “Blech. Stop it!”
Frustrated by my spurns, she walked past my head, turned around and attempted to sit her butt hole on my cheek. “Gack! Did that stupid angel put you up to this?”
I pushed her, but she didn't go away. Sure, she lifted her butt, but it just hovered there. She waved it around, avoiding my shoos, trying and trying again to sit her pink puckery behind on my forehead. Here's the thing about Gertrude: Like any old person, she feels entitled to do whatever she wants. Unfortunately, she wants to drag her dirty pink anus across any surface that strikes her fancy, whether it's my face or Dad's tweed recliner in the den.
She was about to drag it across my nose when I finally managed to roll her fat body off me. She lost her balance, and was so round that when she fell, she kept right on rolling, straight off the side of the bed.
Thud.
“Meeeew.”
“Sorry, Gertrude.”
I heard the shw shw of furry cat stub rubbing against the carpet as she tried to right herself. Before I could retreat underneath the covers again, a small circle of green light appeared above my head. Kevin leaped out, landed directly on my nose, and punched me in the eye.
“Ow!”
“Get up, kid. You're late.”
“Get off!” I swatted him, and he thunked into the unopened combo meal on my nightstand. I hadn't eaten it. Mr. Jimmy's death had ruined my appetite.
“It's not my fault you're late. A well check is Demon Mart standard procedure. For all we knew, you were dead and the cat ate your face. I mean, look at that thing.” Kevin pointed at Gertrude, still on the carpet, too fat to roll over. “Definitely a face eater. What are y'all feeding it? Is everything in this house fat?”
He eyeballed me.
“Shut up, Kevin.”
“Whatever.” He crawled straight into the Monster Burger bag and reemerged with a chunk of cheeseburger. “You didn't eat this? Are you nuts? This was your last chance! Monster Burger's out of business without Jimmy. No one's gonna buy a restaurant with no customers.”
He shoved the entire chunk in his mouth. “Mmmm. Dewishuuush.”
“Go away.”
“Sure thing, kid.” The green vortex opened next to him. “Get up, buttercup. Be at work in fifteen minutes, or I'm writing you up. We all know you didn't quit, because no one showed up to replace you. So stop playing with yourself and get dressed.”
He stepped into the portal, thought better of it, and backed out. He grabbed a corner of my Monster Burger bag and pulled it into the vortex behind him. He and yesterday's lunch disappeared.
I don't know if you remember, but Demon Mart is awash in magic spells. One spell dictates that when you quit, the poor sucker destined to replace you shows up when you leave. So don't worry about Kevin. I wasn't leaving him in a lurch. My replacement would be along any minute now, because I was definitely one hundred percent never going back there.
I fluffed my pillows, laid back down and tried to sleep.
Thwap. Crack.
My bed shook. Uh, what was that?
Crack.
My room flashed like Dr. Frankenstein's lab. White light feathered across the ceiling. Gertrude hissed.
Eight ball rolled out from under my pillow, triangle up. “Go to work.”
“You can't make me. It isn't fair! I saved the world already. Isn't that enough?”
“Apparently not, or else I wouldn't have a new work order for a hero's journey.”
“What does that even mean? What else is there to do?”
“Look, you saved the world. Then you went right back to living with Mom, playing video games 24/7. Nothing changed. Your heroic moment didn't sink in. You didn't learn anything. It didn't add direction and purpose to your life, so now we have to do it all over again,” he said. “Beowulf didn't slay Grendel so he could spend fifty years playing Fallout 4 in his mom's basement.”
And yes, that was a lot of text to fit on such a small triangle. I had to squint. It was like two point type. “Wait. Who did what?”
“It was a literary reference. I keep forgetting you dropped out of college.” He triangle eye rolled me. “Doesn't matter. Get up, get dressed, get to work. It's time to hero up. Slay some demons, woo the princess, yada yada. Get ready to fairy tale the shit out of your life. You know the drill.”
“What?” I had no idea what he was talking about. “No. I'm not going back there!”
Crack. Fwap. Lightning hit the window outside.
“Aaaaah! Make it stop!” I white knuckle death squeezed my blanket and pulled it up around me.
“I'm only the messenger, remember? Seriously. Angel literally means messenger.” The triangle turned. “I can't make it stop. YOU have to make it stop.”
Crack. Fwap. Crack.
Lightning. Lots of it. So close it was almost on top of me. I was so scared, I made this high-pitched eeeeeeeeeeeeep noise that I didn't even know humans could make. It was definitely not a noise that screamed bravery or self respect. I mean, come on. This is me we're talking about here. I didn't magically transform overnight.
“Get up. Time for work.”
“I ca-a-a-an't.”
Zzzzp. Lightning skipped across the ceiling, short circuiting the fan. Yet I still couldn't bear the thought of stepping foot in that store.
“No.” I whimpered. “I'm not going.”
Why sugar coat it? Struck by lightning would be better, right?
“Fine,” angel eight ball huffed. “Remember I told you so.”
Crack crack. Flash. Crack. Flash. Reeee eeeee.
I held even tighter to my blanket as lightning and wind whipped the giant oak tree by my window. I would have peed my pajamas, if I weren't so terrified. Yep. This whole showing God I could stand my ground thing? Nailing it!
Crack. Crack. Crash!
A tree branch broke through my window and hit the floor hard. Glass and bark flew in all directions.
“MEEEOOOOOOO!” Gertrude screamed, then went silent.
“Gertrude?”
She didn't answer.
In the darkness, I could see the outline of her fat, round body crunched in half beneath the branch. Her tongue hung limp from her mouth, her blind eyes frozen in terror, looking right at me. Her mouth curled up, as if to say, “How many times did I let your dickhead friends yank me around by the tail so you could look cool, huh? How could you do this to meeeeeee?”
“No! Gertrude! Take it back, and I'll go! I'll go. I promise! Don't hurt Gertrude!”
“Oh, good. That's settled then,” angel eight ball said.
My bedroom went completely dark, then the light flipped on. And the room was perfect. Well, messy and twenty-one-year-old man disgusting yes,
but the window wasn't broken. The tree was outside where it belonged. And Gertrude was alive, licking the few parts of her fat belly she could actually reach as she lay on the carpet next to the bed. Alive.
Oh thank, God. Thank you. Thank you!
Angel eight ball jiggled in my lap. “Now get up. You're late.”
I did not hesitate. I threw on my Pumas and was outside in the driveway in under five minutes, car keys in hand. Shit. My car was two blocks away with two shredded tires. This sucked. I didn't want to ride my bike.
Lightning flashed overhead. “Fine. I'll ride my stupid bike!”
Yes, I yelled at the sky like a lunatic. But boy, did I ride. I pedaled, hard and fast, brrr freezing down to my core, because autumn nights in Ohio are really, really cold. But I pedaled, and I didn't turn back, even though I wanted to. I was driven by the vision of poor dead Gertrude on my bedroom floor. And the fear of getting struck with lightning or turned to a pillar of salt like some poor sucker in the Old Testament.
Man. God could really be a meany pants. Wait. Could He read my thoughts? Shit! Oh...uh...sorry. Forget I said that. I didn't mean it. Actually, I totally did, but—oh crap. La la la la la. Nothing to see here!
I coasted into the Demon Mart parking lot, and suddenly the freezing fall air was no match for the icy cold doom bubbling inside me. The happy naivety of believing monsters only existed in the movies? Gone forever. That was the hardest part of the job. Monsters were real. Hell was real. And once you knew that, it changed everything.
My guts churned when I saw the neon 24/7 Demon Mart sign flickering in ominous blood red. The movable type said, “Grand reopening. Gate open midnight to dawn. Rules strictly enforced. Professions of eternal, undying love strictly prohibited.”
Well, that last line was clearly a jab at Tristan, who's bid to win over DeeDee had accidentally thrown the hell gate wide open and summoned an angler fish of doom. Have I mentioned how much I hate hipsters?
I leaned my Huffy against the signpost. I didn't bother to lock it because anyone dumb enough to steal it would be carried away by a humongous demon bird. And, you know, if it were stolen, maybe angel would let me drive the car.
Angel eight ball hit my foot. Triangle up, of course. Always an opinion. “No bike = walk. Or jog, preferably. Cardio!”
Jerk. I kicked him away. He cursed as he rolled across the lot into a couple of bushes.
I fished my name tag out of my pocket. That's when I noticed I had run out of the house so fast, I was still in the clothes I'd slept in. A green T-shirt with two thumbs pointing up that said “This Guy Needs a Beer,” paired with my—Seriously, God? Why?—Christmas pajama pants. The red and white striped ones with gingerbread men tap dancing with candy canes. My cheeks flushed hot. Mom always bought me the worst pajamas. It's like she wanted me to be four years old forever, only with a job and my own apartment.
I took a deep breath, straightened my name tag, and reminded myself that I only had to stay alive until God decided I could quit. Whenever that might be. Maybe if I did what angel eight ball told me to, that would be soon. But right now, I had no choice but to be brave. Fake it 'til you make it, right? For Gertrude.
I mustered a tiny shred of courage, stepped in the front door, and was immediately smacked in the face by a naked man.
Chapter 5
A tiny one. I meant a tiny man. Get your mind out of the gutter.
He was buck naked and about the size of a Star Wars action figure. He moved like a hummingbird, hovering in front of me, held aloft by fast buzzing wings. He had a beer gut and skinny legs, so his body kinda looked like a potato with two toothpicks sticking out of it, and his wrinkly skin was so pale it was almost blue like a raw shrimp. His hair was pure white, and the curtains matched the drapes, if you get my drift. What. The. Hell.
I had a lot of questions, but the most immediate was, “where are your pants?” Did he really need to have his little dinger hanging out there for the whole world to see?
The tiny naked grandpa gave me a pointed look, then said something in a high, fast voice. He jabbed his finger at my nose, then pointed at his not-so-private parts like he was lecturing me for looking.
“Uh.” I was actually staring at a hairy brown mole next to his belly button. He should definitely get that looked at. I tried to keep my eyes up, but dude, it was so hard. I mean difficult. Gah!
“Well, this is getting weird.” Kevin sat on my shoulder, holding a spray can that was bigger than he was. “Kill him already. It's us or them. Too late.”
The flying, bare-ass grandpa charged. He poked me right in the eye. “Ow!”
I fwapped at him, but my vision had gone blurry, so he managed to zip out of the way. I swung again, and he zipped the other way. Man, he was fast for a fat guy.
“Unlike you,” Kevin said. “Jealous?”
“Shut up.”
The naked grandpa spat some words at me and flipped me the bird. Seriously?
“Jesus, kid. You're worthless. Take two steps left.”
I did. Kevin squirted his spray can at a different little naked dude, who was buzzing in circles around us. Jesus! How many tiny naked guys were in here?
This one was young and fit, with milky skin covered in freckles, big green kitten eyes, and fiery red hair. He landed on my cheek, sunk his nails into my skin and scratched. “Eeeoow!!”
Kevin sprayed me right in the face. “Aack! Is that poison?”
“Relax. It's Pixie Rid. It won't hurt you.”
The spray smelled like lemons to me, but it seemed to hurt the tiny guy. He let go of me, screeched, and rubbed his skin like he'd been sprayed with acid. He fluttered to the floor and rolled around on the linoleum.
“Get him. Quick! Before he get in the walls. No mercy! The damned things are like roaches.”
I looked at Kevin. He looked at me. “Not me. Regular roaches. Duh. Step on him.”
I lifted my foot, but hesitated. This was basically a tiny human. Wasn't this, like, murder? I tapped the little dude with my foot, and he yelped. No. No way. I couldn't squish him. It didn't feel right.
“What are you waiting for? Pixies are total assholes!” Kevin yelled. “Kill him!”
“You know the rules. We aren't allowed to kill them.” DeeDee walked up. “The store is certified cruelty free, remember?”
“Not on my watch. Stupid hippies,” Kevin snipped. “Kill 'em, kid.”
I didn't. Mostly because the world melted away, leaving only me and DeeDee behind. She was flawless and beautiful, head to toe in black. The diamond in her septum ring sparkled under the fluorescent lights. She'd dyed her hair a deep burgundy, just like in my dream. Except she wasn't a zombie, which was nice. Being close to her made my insides tingle.
DeeDee stared at me for a minute. She smiled, then her perfectly tweezed eyebrows shot up. “What are you wearing? You look like a Christmas elf who's pledging a fraternity.”
My cheeks flushed hot. Yes. Yes. I did.
DeeDee shrugged, then wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me tight. Oh God. She was so warm and soft and smelled so good. Tropical, like pineapples and coconuts.
“I missed you, Lloyd. I'm so happy you're here. I was afraid you weren't coming back. Silly, right? I knew I could count on you. You're my hero!” She winked and pinched my cheek.
Well, tonight was looking up. I tingled all over, just from the touch of her. Especially down south. Ahem. Until she handed me a big pink flyswatter.
“We have a pixie problem. Use this to keep them in the air. If they're on the ground too long, they build nests and have babies. We don't want that. We're nearly at infestation level already,” she said. “They probably snuck in during construction. We have to flush them out. Check between the slushy machines. They like to hide there. It's warm.”
“Disgusting things,” Kevin said. “Step to it, kid. We gotta get 'em before they start humping. That's some gnarly shit. Trust me.”
“Keep them in the air until I find the net,” DeeDee said. “The c
onstruction crew shuffled all the tools around. I can't find anything. Nothing is where it belongs.”
Just then, something streaked past her face. She raised her hand to grab it but missed. It landed in her hair and starting pulling. She tried to smack it off, but it was tangled up and hanging on for dear life. “Stupid thing. Let go!”
She dropped a few F bombs as she wrestled with a tiny naked lady. Oh geesh. It had boobs. Tiny perky boobs.
“What are you, desperate? Mind outta the gutter, kid.” Kevin pinched my ear.
“Ow!”
“You heard the lady. Get moving.”
Fine. I inched down the row of slushy machines. Huh. There were more flavors, more machines. Hades Honeydew? Salvation Strawberry? Mmm. Yes, please! No. Wait. Scratch that. I didn't need any more reasons to stick around, no matter how delicious they might be. Well, one sip couldn't hurt. If I was gonna be killed by a bunch of tiny naked redheads, I may as well have a taste. I leaned in and nearly had my mouth under a nozzle when Kevin punched me. Right on the spot where that pixie had bitten me. “Eowch! Cut it out!”
“Focus!” Kevin snipped. “And use a cup. This isn't your mom's milk jug. But I'll tell ya, I'd like to get my hands on her jugs. Heh heh.”
OMG. You are not talking about my mom right now.
Kevin was about to say something but was interrupted by the thunk vooooooorp sound of the tiny lady pixie DeeDee pulled out of her hair hitting the window then sliding down the glass.
“Disgusting.” DeeDee smoothed out her hair. “Remember, Lloyd. Keep them flying.”
I moved down the row, clutching my pink fly swatter like it was a baseball bat. Kevin's spray can rattled as he shook it, mixing up the brew for another round.
“There, kid. Get 'em!” Kevin pointed at the Rapture Raspberry.
Two of them—young ones, judging by the red hair—were on the lever. And well, I'll just come straight out and say it. They were doing it, and not in a way that could be mistaken for making sweet love. They were really giving it to each other. Hair pulling. Biting. Grunting like rabid wild boars hopped up on boner pills.
