Monster

The real kind

 

A green pickup truck loaded with trash climbed the rocky, steep hill at the edge of town. Once over the top, the driver stopped, got out and dumped the truck's contents in the ditch, then drove off. Just feet away, nearly concealed by mounds of refuse, sat a 1940 Pontiac with no wheels. In the back seat of the old car, nine year-old Willy Banks sat up scratching and yawning. Knowing there might be something good in the freshly deposited garbage, he came out to investigate.

"A hair brush--It looks almost new!" said Willy, picking up the blue woman's hairbrush and dragging it through his tangled brown locks.

A scrawny, blonde-headed kid with thick glasses came rolling up on his bicycle and said, "Who you talkin' to?"

Willy looked at him and replied, "Oh, uh, me, myself and I, I guess."

"Heh-heh--that's funny!"

Willy walked over to the kid. "What's your name?"

"Pete."

"Hi, Pete. I'm Willy."

"Were you sleepin' in that old car?"

Willy told him, "Yeah."

"How come? Don't you have a house?"

"Of course I have a house! I ain't no orphan."

Pete swiveled his head around in all directions. "Where? I don't see one."

Willy lowered his eyebrows, pointed his dirty finger and said, "It's over there."

Pete's eyes looked bigger than ever as he strained to see a house. "I don't see it. All I see is trees and trash."

"Oh, c'mon, I'll show you!" said Willy, and he led Pete down the road about fifty feet, then climbed a short embankment. Stepping onto a yard with knee-high grass, Willy said, "There it is! Now do you see it?"

Pete saw a very dilapidated old house with half the windows knocked out.  "You live there?"

Willy growled, "No! Are you blind? Me and my dad live right over there, in that trailer!"

It took a few seconds, but Pete finally saw the tiny green box, half-hidden by a giant mound of scrap lumber and two peach trees. Taking in all the details, he noticed the single extension cord leading to the trailer from the house, plus the garden hose that apparently supplied water.

"Wow!" said Pete. "It's like you're camping out in the jungle, or something. Can you show it to me?"

"Sure," said Willy. "Watch your step, though; there's stinky stuff on the ground."

Carefully, the two stepped around puddles of raw sewage that drained from an open pipe and entered the trailer. The interior looked no better than the exterior, and smelled of cigarettes and booze.

"Is this why you sleep in that old car--because it smells so bad in here?" asked Pete, hanging his tongue out and wrinkling his nose.

"Yeah, that's why, and uh...because dad likes to bring girlfriends in here with him at night."

Pete lowered his voice and croaked, "Are they noisy when they do that hoola-hoola thing?"

Willy grinned. "Yeah."

Nodding his head knowingly, Pete told him, "My aunt and uncle do that when they come to visit. They think I'm asleep, but I'm not."

Willy saw a paper sack with "Dave's Burger Barn" on it and looked inside. Pulling out a half-eaten burger, he asked Pete, "You want half?"

"Nah, thanks. Mom made me oatmeal this morning."

Willy took a big bite of stale hamburger and told him, "Oatmeal--I love oatmeal!"

"I'm tired of it. She makes me eat it all the time. Hey, Willy, let's go look at your old car. Have you got it fixed up like a bedroom?"

"Ummm--more like a clubhouse."

"Oh, neat-o! I wanna see it!"

"Okay," said Willy, and they went back to the wheel-less Pontiac and crawled inside. Pete seemed excited over every little thing he saw and asked question after question.

"Pete, you wanna see my good luck charm?"

"Yeah, boy!"

Willy pulled a special item from his pocket and handed it to Pete.

"Hot diggity, it's a tooth! What kind of a tooth is it--a bear tooth?"

"No, it's too big to be a bear tooth. I'm pretty sure it came from a tranny-saurus."

Pete squealed, "You mean... a dinosaur tooth?"

Willy confidently replied, "Yep. It came from the biggest, meanest, scariest dinosaur that ever lived."

Pete hooked the air with his little crooked finger. "Gosh! I'll bet this tooth used to be all bloody, with raw meat hanging off of it!"

"You know it. Probably even bit a caveman in half."

Beside himself, Pete flopped back against the seat and let fly the most powerful words in his vocabulary. "Golly-molly!"

"And you know what else, Pete?"

"What?"

"It protects me. Everything is scared of this tooth. Wildcats, vampires, Frankenstein monsters--even that pack of wild dogs that comes around here sometimes, they're all scared of it."

Pete moaned, "Ohhhh, I wish I had a tooth like that."

Willy patted him on the back and told him, "Well, let's just go find you one."

"Oh, boy!" cried Pete. "Where do we look?"

"Right out here in this garbage. People throw away valuable stuff all the time. Why, I don't think they even know what they're throwin' away sometimes!"

The search was on for another tranny-saurus tooth, but after much looking, only a few small animal teeth and a broken set of dentures were found.

"Do you think that dinosaur only had one tooth like that?" asked, Pete, running his tongue across his own incomplete set of ivories.

"I dunno." replied Willy. "If we can't find one, maybe we can find something just as good."

For two more hours the boys searched, but came up with nothing. A bit tired and discouraged, Pete said, "Mom's probably got supper made, so I'd better go home."

"Yeah, okay, Pete. We can look some more tomorrow."

"Okay," replied Pete, and hopped on his bike and rode away. Soon afterwards, Willy's dad came by and gave him a cheese sandwich, bag of potato chips and small box of milk, then headed out for an evening of woman-chasing. Willy gobbled his scant supper, then retired to the back seat of the Pontiac, where he read the two new comic books he'd found while looking for Pete's good luck tooth.

Grrrrrrrr, sniff-sniff.

Wild dogs! I'd better roll up the window!

A not uncommon occurrence, the feral dog pack that roamed the area sniffed piles of rubbish, looking for scraps. Much like everything found around that hilltop, they, too, were discards, dumped-off like the trash through which they scratched. Led by a large brown and white mixed breed, they were known to kill other dogs, cats, and livestock. So Willy thought, people might easily find themselves on that gruesome menu someday, too. He stuck his trembling hand into his pocket and pulled out the tooth.

"Look here, you monsters!" he growled, tapping the tooth on the car window and waving it around. Several of the small, insignificant dogs sniffed and pawed the window, but not alpha dog.

"Yeah, don't pretend you're not scared, big boy! You're just trying to show the others how brave you are, but you're scared to death of my tranny-saurus tooth!"

After a few minutes, the dogs left, and all Willy could hear was old man Biggs sitting on his porch, drunk as a hoot owl, cussing at the moon. (It was his house that, for a flat fee of six dollars per month, supplied water and electricity to the trailer.

 Ah, shut up, you old codger! One day, that Bay Rum hair tonic is gonna eat a hole through ya!

Willy laid back and tried to go to sleep.

Ca-plunk!

New garbage. Maybe there's a tranny-saurus tooth in it.

Willy slowly opened the left rear door.

Squuueak.

Oh, I gotta oil that.

Willy tippy-toed over and grabbed the bag of trash. A full moon provided lots of light, and he slowly, quietly began sorting through it.

Potato peels, fish bones--yuck! Used tampon--double yuck!

Willy felt something wet and mushy near the bottom.

Feels like coffee grounds.

Grrrrrrr!

The dogs!

Willy held onto to the handful of whatever and rushed back inside the car, the wild dogs nearly upon him.

Whew, that was close! Now to see what kind of a mess I'm holding.

Willy opened his hand, and sure enough, it was coffee grounds. There was a lump in it, though, and as he cleared away the grounds, something round and sparkling emerged.

A marble! A big, green one!

Willy held it up to the moonlight.

It's a dragon's eye! Oh, boy.... I can't believe it!

His heart pounded and breathing became erratic.

This is probably the most powerful charm in the world! Maybe I should keep it, a-and give Pete the tooth! No, wait... Pete's a good man. I promised to find him his own good luck charm, and this is it. I'll keep my word.

Pete came rolling up on his bike about nine the next morning and found Willy tinkering with an old fishing pole.

"Are you goin' fishing?" asked Pete.

"Nah, I'm just trying to get this thing to work right."

Pete handed Willy a banana. "Here--this is for you."

"Thanks!"

Willy crammed the banana down his throat in three bites, then said, "And I've got something for you!"

Pete's eyes lit up. "For me? Is it a tranny-saurus tooth?"

"Just as good," said Willy, and he held the sparkling green orb before Pete's wide-open eyes.

"Ooo--ooo-oo, golly-molly!" squealed Pete, hopping up and down like a bunny. "What is it?"

"A dragon eye!"

"A... gulp...dragon eye?"

Willy thundered, "Yep. The eye of the most feared beast the world has ever known--well, except for a tranny-saurus... a-and it will keep you safe from wild dogs and other stuff!"

Pete held the dragon eye out before him and blew faux flames from his puckered pink lips. "Hwoooooo! I'll burn your village, I'll roast Mr. Pope like a marshmallow!"

"Who's Mr. Pope?" asked Willy.

Pete looked down and mumbled, "Oh, uh, I didn't mean to say that."

"Is he an old mean school teacher?"

"No"

"A preacher?"

"No. I... I can't tell you."

Willy kept on. "A politician?"

Pete was silent.

Willy put his arm around Pete and whispered, "I think I know. It happened to me one time, and that's the real, main reason I sleep out here."

Pete looked up, a tear dripping down his cheek. "It happened to you?"

"Yeah. One of dad's drunk friends did it, but that was before I got my Tranny-saurus tooth. It would never, ever happen to me now, and you've got that dragon eye, so it's not gonna happen to you again, either."

Pete smiled, sniffled, and wiped off the tear. "You know what, Willy?"

"What?"

"You're the best friend I've ever had!"

Willy smiled and told him, "Hey, there's a creek about a mile from here; what do you say we go look for some arrow heads?"

"Yeah! I like arrow heads!"

Willy and Pete became great friends and spent nearly every day together over the next few weeks. After much relentless begging, Pete's mother finally gave him permission to spend the night with Willy in his old car. "It's the coolest way to camp out there ever was!" he told her.

Pete brought a sack full of chips, sodas, and delicious sandwiches his mother had made, and the two had a great evening of munching, story-telling, and munching some more. About midnight, they heard someone grumbling and stumbling about in the garbage.

"Alright, you little mama's boy, I know you're here somewhere."

Pete peeked out the window and saw the monster of all monsters--Mr. Pope. Dressed in his usual too-tight khakis, his fat belly hung well over his belt and his bald head shined in the moonlight. He was a man with a lust for children, a monster of the most terrible kind.

"What is it?" whispered Willy.

"It's him, the bad man--Mr. Pope. He owns the dry goods store where mother works. He must've heard her say I'd be here! Cover up, Willy! Don't let him see you!"

Willy jumped up and began locking doors.

"There you are! Don't think you're gonna keep me from getting you!" yelled Pope, and he began banging on the left rear glass with his big fist.

Willy held up his tranny-saurus tooth and waved it around while making hissing sounds.

Pope pounded all the harder, and the window cracked.

Pete puckered his lips, blew streams of hot breath at the monster and showed him the dragon's eye.

Pope paid no heed, and smashed the window out. Willy and Pete increased the intensity of their attacks. Soon, the monster would yield, they knew.

A large hand reached in and grabbed Pete's shirt collar, but Pete bravely shoved the dragon eye right into Pope's face.

Aaaaeeee!

Shrieks and screams pierced the night! Blood ran! The monster whimpered a weak "Help me," as it was carried off and devoured by beasts with large sharp teeth and glaring, angry eyes.

"What the hell is goin' out here?" slurred Willy's dad, wobbling about with a whiskey bottle in one hand and a two-by-four in the other.

The police arrived within minutes and secured the scene. Signs of a struggle were evident all around. Blood  was on the ground, and spatters covered the side of the 1940 Pontiac. Drag marks told the story of something large and heavy being carried off. When questioned, Willy and Pete said they'd been attacked by a monster, but the cops didn't believe them. "These children are traumatized," they told themselves.

Ten years later, Willy and Pete joined the Marines on the buddy program. They had faced the monster, and with their respective talismans to keep them safe, they'd face the enemy.

                      The End

 

 

Author's Note

I used the name "Pope" because it belongs to a real (and long dead) child molester I knew as a kid.

Reviews

[Karen Redburn]

This is a hard one because of the subject matter. I appreciate the story and how it turned out. If I understand correctly the dogs actually got the child molester is that right? As usual though you write brilliantly, can't stop raving about your style.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thanks again, Karen, and you're correct that the dogs dragged the molester off.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

I enjoyed this one but mostly for the karma of justice for the monster in the end of the story. Retribution has its merits but too often seems too little too late. I saw a trailer in Kentucky that had heaps of garbage in the front yard...just an open landfill and I wondered what sort of person could abide to live near such filth, rats, maggots, flies and who knows what else. This story brought that image back. I liked the interaction between the kids.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thanks, Fabian. I saw some pretty sad situations when I was a kid. So many po folks. As poor as one may be, you can still take a little pride in what you have.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Agreed. Ours was a family in poverty but we had each other. Our clothes were clean even if they were hand-me-downs and we found joy in simplicity; a hot meal, a warm bed, a sunrise, flowers and birds and just being alive.

[LKBillips]

Wow, just wow. This story was really interesting and had a good progression. I liked the characters and their style of speech. I also liked that even though something bad was their common denominator something good came from it. The only thing that was confusing was how Willy got from Politian to child abuser...was it a look, Pete's demeanor? It just seemed to leap rather than connect. Otherwise I really thought it was cool.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you. Pete pretends to be a dragon and says"...I'll burn your village, I'll roast Mr. Pope like a marshmallow", which prompts Willy to quiz him about who Mr. Pope is. "A mean school teacher? A preacher? A politician?" Reluctantly, he then had to reveal that Pope had abused him.

[barleygirl]

Once again, you've done a superb job of blending real life with the imaginary. Some messages, I think people "hear" more readily, when the situation is one step removed, such as in this story. A "monster" is what a child abuser feels like to a child, so your portrait is realistic & also a more intense version of reality, bordering on fantasy. There are layers to your social message, as you describe how the dogs were dumped off, just like the boy & other garbage.

You manage to weave in dozens of references that I'd almost forgotten about my own childhood, such as: "Me, Myself, & I" . . . and dragon's eye marbles!!!! New memories in every story, too! You always add such interesting & fresh details to paint each scene, such as piles of scrap lumber & the single extension cord for a flat fee of $4!!! I could go on & on. The richness of your stories comes from digging out little gems of grim realistic detail, not making up flashy drama or going for shock value.

Great job! Important message! I know, becuz the monster visited me for years.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you. Yes, we need not fear creatures from the Black Lagoon or toothy bloodsuckers on moonlit nights, but those who daily walk among us.

[MelissaAndres]

Very well written, once again, Mr. Dickens! Your tales are woven so perfectly. Unfortunately, there are many similar TRUE stories out there like this where children are concerned and it is so sad. I wish every child was equipped with a tooth or a marble to keep the monsters away.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you, and I know you're right. I patterned Mr. Pope after a real molester I knew of when young. Actually, there are a few parts of this story that came from real life.

[MelissaAndres]

That's awful ... but it is good that you are telling your story. Actually, true stuff here, there was a molester within my own family. He has passed away now - thank goodness! He stalked and physically and mentally damaged my youngest sister. Evil, evil man! I could write story after story after story about my family happenings. We all should have been on The Jerry Springer Show for sure!

[Viv Wade]

This story really held my attention all the way through. Willy's tough life, the boys friendship, the child molester, the demise of Mr Pope - PHEW, so much in one story! I think I'll go and have a root around in the bin, find myself a talisman...

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you. I'm pleased to know you enjoyed it. As for carrying a talisman--it can't hurt!

[Dara]

Not only was I transfixed throughout the entire story I found my heart pounding a bit as the boys' secrets unfolded and once again they were 'under attack'. Child abuse is a subject that I would like to help combat in some form or fashion. Thank you for bringing it to light here Sam. It is a difficult topic and one some would sweep under the rug. This write displays your gift for story telling at its finest.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you, Dara, I'm most honored. I was sorely neglected when young, but not physically or sexually abused. There was a close call with a molester when I was about nine, and I patterned Mr. Pope after him.

[Dara]

Yes, it is frightening when you think how vulnerable young children are and it can happen when least expected. I am glad you were spared from the worst of it.

[Ryan Henderson]

Great story! I really like how this piece flowed and the word choice was very well done. The words you used to create the imagery were fantastic and really gave me a sense of what was going on and what it looked like!

"What the hell is goin' out here?" slurred Willy's dad, wobbling about with a whiskey bottle in one hand and a two-by-four in the other.

For example, that little piece of dialogue is my favorite in the whole piece. You described that Willy's dad drinks and is a bit rough around the edges without actually describing it, instead of describing it you used props and dialogue to do it. Very clever!

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you, Ryan. I'm most pleased to know you enjoyed it.

[J. K. Beach]

Sam,

There's a lot to be said for talismans of unimaginable power--trannysaurus teeth, dragon eyes and friendship--in the fight against the withering fire of life. You invoke here the best that is within us... and the worst. There can be no greater tale of horror for a boy (or girl) to have a monster like Mr. Pope infringe upon any part of their life, mental, physical or otherwise. This is a great story! I'm just glad you twisted the knife another quarter turn so that it could be released and pulled out! Great writing, Sam!

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you so much. As with many of my stories, there are bits of real life mixed in.