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Chandra Renais is a friendly, mild-mannered librarian by day, but on nights, weekends, and the occasional holiday she morphs into an aspiring writer and lunatic-general. She lives in North Carolina and enjoys Skeeball, Halloween, and laughing. "Bugaboo, Electric Blue" is her first published story. |
Beth hung up, bristling at the mockery. “An officer is coming from Animal Control to take care of it,” she told the girls. “I didn’t know they did that,” Rachel said. “Yes, well, that’s what we pay taxes for. I think.” Clara padded to the fridge, the panda still at her neck. “Can I have a juice box?” Beth shuddered. There was sugar in that juice. “It’s too late for juice. Have a glass of water.” Then she remembered the girl’s past accidents. “A sip, have a sip of water.” Through the water-getting, the pitiful begging for juice, and the eventual giving up and offering of only a tiny bit of juice, just a sip, apple, all-natural-no-sugar-added, Beth kept one eye on that door. It never moved. Still, she remained on edge, so that when the doorbell rang, she jumped and shrieked, startling the children. She ran to answer it, the girls at her heels. He was the most beautiful man she had seen in a good long while. Pretty, way prettier than Jake. Thick, black hair a shade too long, gorgeous green eyes. He smiled and Beth smiled back, stunned into forgetting that she wore no makeup, that her hair looked exactly as though she had just seen a monster, and that she wore a faded pink sweatshirt two sizes too big and stained with spaghetti sauce. “I hear you’ve got an intruder.” Even his voice was beautiful, rich and deep. Beth could only manage an apologetic shrug. “I don’t think it’s a frog.” “O-kay.” The corners of his eyes crinkled beautifully. He hitched up the smallish cage he’d brought. He also held what appeared to be a lasso on a stick. “I’ll just go take a look. It’s back here?” “Yes.” The rear view was beautiful, too. “Are you going to open the door? Should I take the girls outside or something?” “Nah, I don’t think there’s any need for that. I’ll shut the door behind me.” Beth sank onto the sofa, and the girls fell in beside her, one to each side. She tensed as she heard the door open and shut. Relieved, she leaned back. The nice officer was going to take care of everything. She waited for the sound of a scuffle and the victorious emergence of the Animal Control cowboy. She waited. The sounds of scuffling never arose. The cowboy emerged with no air of victory and no monster. Walking into the living room, he shook his head. “What?” Beth asked. “There’s nothing back there. I’m sorry. I looked everywhere. You sure it didn’t get out?” “It couldn’t have.” Her eyes swept the living room. “It couldn’t have. It was in there when I shut the door. There’s no way.” “Is it possible you didn’t see, maybe, what you thought you saw?” Clara, taking exception to the man’s tone, piped up in her aunt’s defense. “There was too a monster!” “A monster, huh?” His eyes, less beautiful now, narrowed as he took in the candy wrappers on the floor. “Under the bed? Ma’am, could I have a word with you over here?” Oh, shit, thought Beth. She rose from the sofa with a sinking feeling. “What?” He kept his voice low; he didn’t look beautiful when he was angry. “Maybe it isn’t my place to say, but you really shouldn’t encourage those kids like this. And calling me out here? That’s a false report. We could fine you for that.” Beth kept her voice low, too. “There was something under that bed! Clara’s four, so she can call it a monster if she wants, and I don’t know what I saw, but dammit, there was something there.” She steamed and sputtered. “It even made a noise. It snorted.” “Lady, there’s nothing in there. I’m not going to report this, this time. You do it again, though, you’re looking at a fine, maybe even jail time.” He rattled his little cage with meaning. Beth positioned herself between the girls and the man, her face turned so they couldn’t see, and mouthed, “Screw you!” The Animal Control cowboy turned red. “Lady, grow up.” He lifted his lasso on a stick to his shoulder, then left the house with a flourish that seemed inappropriate from a cowboy. Beth felt like crying. Maybe she had imagined the whole thing. Not frigging likely, but maybe. “I am grown-up,” Beth told the front door. “I pay bills. I have insurance. I have three kinds of insurance.” The girls sat still on the sofa. Clara hugged her panda. “Auntie Beth? I think you’re a grown-up.” “Thanks, sweetie. It’s all relative, though, isn’t it?” When Clara frowned, puzzled, Rachel rushed to explain. “Relative means—” “I know what a relative is,” Clara snapped. The troops were getting cranky. Beth wondered what to do and wished one more time that her sister was there. Or maybe Mom. Mom would be great right now. What if the cowboy was right? What if the thing was gone, disappeared back to wherever it had come from in the first place? Beth made up her mind and edged down the hall toward the bedroom, then changed her mind and went back for her purse. She had some pepper spray in there. When she got back to the hall, the girls were at the bedroom door. It was open. Rachel frowned. “He must have forgotten to close it.” “It’s okay. The officer said there was nothing in there, so I’m just going to double-check. You know, just to make sure. In the meantime, I want you to get on the dining room table.” They stared at her, speechless. “Go on. Hop to.” “We’re not allowed to get on the table,” Rachel said. “Yeah, well, just for tonight. Don’t tell your mother.” Clara grinned, and she and her panda climbed onto the forbidden land. Rachel followed, dazed, as though unable to comprehend the odd turns the night had taken. With the girls safely stashed, Beth got out her spray, swung her purse to her shoulder, and stepped into her bedroom. As it turned out, the beautiful jerk had been right. There was no monster under the bed. There was no monster hiding behind the door, in the laundry hamper, or in the closet. No monster here, there, or anywhere. Beth felt both relieved and put out. She wandered out to give the girls the news. And screamed, jumping on the table with them. The girls noticed the source of her alarm and they screamed too. It was bigger now. Still not Rottweiler sized—Beth saw she had exaggerated before—but bigger than it had been. It seemed to still be growing. And she didn’t remember those claws. Sprouting from webbed feet like that, claws looked downright unnatural. It moved toward them, lumbering really, pulling itself forward in a cumbersome shuffle. Well, that’s not that bad, Beth thought. We could outrun that. “You were right,” Rachel said. “It does look like a frog. Like a fat rainforest frog from the jungles.” “Guatelama!” Clara yelled it like a battle cry, shaking her panda at the monster. “It’s Guatemala, stupid!” Rachel exploded. "Girls!” Beth shouted. “Stop!" Clara reached to hit her sister, and dropped the panda. It tumbled to the floor. They all froze. Even the monster. “Daisy!” Clara screamed. She lunged for the stuffed animal, almost toppling off the table, before Beth caught her back. And then the panda was no more. Fluff and faux fur went flying about the room. Some of the lighter pieces floated up before their faces. Beth’s jaw dropped. Rachel’s lower lip quivered. Clara started to cry. The monster’s teeth were very long and very sharp. I don’t remember seeing teeth before, Beth thought. “He ate Daisy!” Clara wailed. “Daisy was stupid and she was falling apart,” Rachel said. “Maybe Mom can get you a better panda.” “I want to go home. Mitch never ate Daisy.” The monster plopped itself down with a whomp, munching away at the cottony wisps of Daisy’s remains. Rachel pushed her glasses up. “Yeah, I wish Mitch was here.” Me too, Beth thought. “Who’s Mitch?” Clara scowled, peeking over the table at the beast below. “Mitch stays under the bed.” “Who’s Mitch?” Rachel looked at Clara. “That’s our monster at home," the younger girl answered. "Mitch is my monster.” She pursed her lips. “I don’t like yours.” Rachel hunched over, elbows to knees. “I’m sorry, Auntie Beth, but I don’t like it, either.” She hurried to add, “I liked dinner, though. That was good. I’ll tell Mom you can too cook.” “Thank you, honey. That’s very kind.” Anne probably would not be impressed by spaghetti, but it was a nice gesture regardless. “So, you’ve got one of these at home, huh?” “Not like this one. This one’s rude.” The monster spat out a piece of mauled and sticky white fur. Clara gave up chastising it and huddled close to Beth. “It’s not mine,” Beth said. “I’ve never seen it before tonight. So… if you already have a monster at home, then who’s this? Some kind of bugaboo freelancer?” “What’s a bugaboo?” Clara asked. “What’s a freelancer?” Rachel asked. “Oh, dear,” said the lavender rabbit in the hall. |
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