What is a Monster?

Daddy’s face whitens, like someone is sucking all the color out of him. “Daddy?”

               He stabs his phone with his finger, and jams it to his ear. “Janie, I need you to meet me at St. John’s Memorial. Something happened to Amanda.” He looks right through me. “Yeah, she’s with me.” His voice shakes. “I can’t do this.”

               He scoops me up without any warning. I yelp. He carries me to the car. I usually love when he carries me, but I don’t like it today. Daddy’s not acting like Daddy. He’s scaring me. I try to push out of his arms, but he squeezes me tight.

               “Madison, chill out.”

               “I want Mama.” I sniffle as he buckles me in.

               We get to a huge, monster building. Horns shoot out of it and big, bloody lips open to swallow people up! Did it eat Mama? I really want to ask Daddy, but his knuckles are white against the steering wheel. We usually play the radio when we drive, or talk about what we see out the windows. But this car ride was silent. Except for Daddy yelling bad words at other cars, and honking at them. I try to be invisible.

               “Madison, you stay with me when we go inside. Aunt Janie is going to be here to hang out with you soon, okay?”

               “I don’t want to go!”

               “Madison, Mama’s inside. I need to find her.”

               I blink back tears. “It ate Mama, and it’s going to eat us too.”

               “What are you talking about?”

               “It has horns, and the red mouth keeps eating people!”

               Daddy rubs his head. Then he growls, “Madison, those are towers, not horns. They’re tall so helicopters can land on them. Helicopters get hurt people here real fast. So they can get help. That’s not a monster, it’s a hospital.”

               “Is Mama hurt?”

               He doesn’t answer. He just carries me again, right into the monster’s mouth.

               “Sit here. And wait for Janie.”

               The chair is hard and slippery. Is it a monster tooth? It’s one big piece of blue with a curve in the back. I try to curl up in it, but I keep sliding down, almost falling out. I face the toothy chair. It smells like the stuff Mama put on my arm when I scraped it after falling off my bike. No wonder that stuff hurts. It must be monster breath. I smell it everywhere.

               I wish I had Duckie. Daddy’s never forgot Duckie before. He’s being so mean. I don’t know what I did wrong. I turn back around and he’s gone. The monster got Daddy! Its crackly voice blasts over my head. The monster hollers out weird announcements. I like announcements at preschool, but these are really scary. And they won’t stop. The monster won’t shut up.

 Daddy is gone. Aunt Janie is probably eaten too. And I really, really need the bathroom.

               I’m afraid to move, but I don’t want to have an accident. So, I tiptoe through the monster’s insides. Lots of people walk by. They all wear the same clothes, and act the same. Maybe the monster turns some people into slaves to do whatever he wants them to do. None of them see me, just like at family holidays. I’m really good at disappearing.

There’s a door with a picture of a woman on it. I run inside. The monster probably doesn’t like getting that stuff on him anymore than I do. But will he eat me now that he knows I won’t have an accident on him?

               I open the door a crack and look around. Down the hall are double doors. They remind me of Daddy’s westerns. They don’t match the other doors in this place. I chance a closer look, and on one of the doors is a big t. Grandma told me what that was once. I struggle to remember. What was it? Oh yeah, a cross. She called it a cross. She said if I ever got lost, a building with a cross on it would be a safe place to go. Did Grandma know how to hide from monsters?

The doors are heavy. It takes all my strength to push one open a tiny bit. The smell of Mama’s garden covers the monster breath. One big gulp of it, and I’m able to open the door enough to slip inside. When it closes behind me, the monster’s voice disappears.

This room doesn’t look like part of the monster. I move away from the doors. My dress makes crinkle sounds, and my shoe taps echo. The room has long benches, and at the front there’s another big cross. It’s brown with a pretty, purple scarf wrapped around it. And it’s surrounded by white lilies. That’s Mama’s favorite flower; her garden is full of them. I wish Mama would find this room.

               One of the doors start to open, and I dart under a bench. Shiny, black shoes clomp past as the door creaks closed. There’s a swishing sound with the clomps that go to the front of the room. Then there’s a thump, like my heart beat. Did he drop to the ground? Oh no, did the monster send someone to look for me?

               I have to see, so I peek around a bench leg. It’s a thin, old man. He’s facing the other way; kneeling in front of the cross. A big, gray suit hangs on him; his little hands and arms poke out of the sleeves like the way my Barbie's does when I try to put Duckie’s clothes on her. His neck is wrinkly, and he has just a little bit of white hair circling the back of his head.

He looks around the room, and I clasp my hand to my mouth. There’s red dripping from his nose. His neck is purple. The monster tried to get him. Is he hiding in here like me? He turns back to the cross, and reaches toward it with shaking hands.

               “Father, what happened? I don’t understand.”

               I don’t know who he’s talking to; we’re the only ones in here. Maybe he talks to his dad even when he’s not here to make him feel better?

               “You wanted me in church. Honor thy sabbath you always say. That’s where I was going. I was following your commandments. Why did you let this happen?”

               None of that makes sense. Except maybe his dad made him end up here like my Daddy did. Why do our daddies not see the monster?

               “No. No. This is what you wanted. For me to be in your house today. You told me so. It was up to you to make the way safe. This is on you!”

               His voice roars the way Daddy’s does when I do something wrong. I curl back up under the bench.

               “You know I can’t ask for someone to drive me. I am not an invalid. If you wanted me at church, you should have healed my eyesight!”

               He stops talking, and I’m glad. I wish he was scared like me. But he spits angry words, so I’m afraid to ask him for help. I don’t think the monster can get me in here, but I’m trapped.

The silence goes on forever, so I peek out again. His head and hands are down on the step. I’ve never seen an old person lay on the ground like that. He’s not moving. Is he asleep?

“You’re right. I’m sorry, father.” I flinch. But his voice is different now. It’s wobbly. “I’ve been so stubborn. I didn’t want help, and now someone is hurt.”

His head lifts back up to the cross, and his cheek shimmers with tears. My throat gets really tight. Mama is hurt. She might be eaten up completely. I bury my head in my knees.

“Please, father, don’t let my pride cost another person their life. Please don’t say that in honoring one commandment, I broke another. I can’t live with that.” He gasps through his crying. “If I wasn’t doing your will before, please let me do it now. Take me, father. If you need life to right this wrong, let it be my life.”

               I don’t understand what he’s saying. There are too many words. The monster scrambled his brain, and it’s trying to scramble mine. I’m going to be eaten for sure. 

My ruffled sleeves dig into my arms, and I rip at them. The crinkly fabric I loved feels like sandpaper against my skin. Everything is too tight; the space under the bench is getting smaller. I jerk, and my head bangs into the seat.

“Hello?”

               No! I squeeze myself smaller than I ever have before. Please don’t find me. I don’t want the monster to eat me.

               Slaps echo. Footsteps boom. I see the black shoes. My dress clenches my neck. I can’t breathe. His head drops down, and our eyes meet. I scream.

               “Oh dear, I’m so sorry I frightened you. It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you.” He pauses, but I can’t speak. “Can you come out? I promise you’re safe with me. I’ll help you find your parents.”

               His voice warms my insides. My dress loosens its grip, and slide out from under the bench. He sits and pats his hand beside him. I just stand, staring at him.

               “What’s your name, little miss?”

               “M-M-Madison.”

               “That’s a very pretty name, to match a very pretty girl. Madison, how about we go to the nurse’s station and find your parents?”

               I shake my head.

               “Why not?”

               “The monster’s out there. Daddy told me to stay in the chair, but it was a tooth. And when I turned around, the monster ate him! He wanted me to wait for Aunt Janie, but she wasn’t there so the monster must have got her too. I didn’t want the monster to get me. It’s breath smells so bad, and its voice screamed in my ears.” I suck in air. “Grandma told me the cross was safe, so I hid in here. I think she’s right; I don’t smell or hear the monster in here.”

My face drips. I try to wipe it dry, but my hands are dirty from the floor, and I’m turning into one big mess.

               “Boy, sounds like you’ve had quite a go of it. Here, use this.” The old man holds out a white handkerchief.

               I wipe my face and hands. It feels a lot better, but I made the handkerchief all dirty. I shake as I start to hand it back to him.

               “It’s okay, that’s what it’s for. And it washes up good as new. I can understand seeing this place as a monster. It certainly does have scary sounds and smells. How ‘bout this? We stay here for a bit; I’ll protect you from the monster.” He pats the bench again.

               I sit with my arms wrapped around my legs, hugging them close.

               “Would you feel a bit better if you knew my name?”

               I nod.

               “It’s Spencer Adams. I guess people might say you should call me Mr. Adams, but I think Spencer would be okay.” He winks at me. His brain doesn’t sound scrambled anymore. “Why did your Daddy bring you to the hospital?”

               “Mama’s hurt.”

               “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

               “Where’s your daddy?”

               His eyes get small, “Why do you ask that?”

               “You were talking to him.”

               New wrinkles fill his forehead, then his eyes shine. “Well, you’re right. I was talking to my daddy. I was talking to everyone’s daddy.”

               Crap. His brain is scrambled.

               He chuckles. “You look at me like I’m crazy. I was talking to God. Have you never heard of God?”

               I shake my head.

               “God made you and me, and everything. And just like your Daddy loves you, God loves all of us.”

               “Did he make the monster?”

               Spencer lets out a big sigh. “Yes and no. I think that’s probably too complicated for me to explain to you, little miss. What matters most is he loves you, and he wants to help.”

“He can help?”

               “Yes. You see, I was praying. Now, that’s just a fancy word for saying I was talking to him. I was asking him for help. I’m here because I know someone hurt too, and I want God to help her get better.”

“Can I ask God for help?”

“Of course.” Then Spencer leans down real close, and looks me in the eyes. “But, there’s something really important I want you to know. God doesn’t always give us what we want; he doesn’t always help the way you ask. But he always hears you, and he always gives you the answer you need.”

               “I don’t understand.”

               “That’s okay, Madison. Most grown-ups still don’t understand.”

               I lower my legs. They hang down, not touching the floor. “What do I do?”

               “Just tell God what’s going on; he’s listening. And you can lower your head and close your eyes. Just focus on talking to him.”

               I close my eyes. “God, Mama is hurt. I don’t know what happened to her, but she’s at the hospital, which I’m pretty sure is a monster that’s eating everyone. But Daddy says it isn’t. And Spencer says it’s not either. But Daddy still disappeared, and Aunt Janie never showed up. Please help us. I don’t know what to do.”

               The doors swing open. I look up and see brown curls bouncing up and down. It’s Aunt Janie!

               “Madison! There you are!”

               “Aunt Janie, the monster didn’t eat you!” I run and leap into her arms; breathing in lemons. She always smells like lemons.

               “Hello Ma’am, I found Madison under a pew. We were just about to find a nurses’ station for help.”

               “Spencer helped me pray. Is the monster still out there?”

               “What monster?”

               Spencer answers, “Hospitals are pretty scary places. She seems to think this place is one, big monster.”

               “Madison, hospitals aren’t monsters. They are good places; they help people who are hurt.”

               “Like Ma-ma?” Tears well up again.

               Aunt Janie lowers me to the ground. She kneels down. “Yes, sweetie, like your Mama. She got hurt while driving her car. But it’s going to be okay. The doctors are working really hard to help her. Hopefully, we can see her real soon.”

               I look back at Spencer. His face is funny.

               Aunt Janie takes my hand. “Let’s go see your Daddy in the waiting room.”

               I hold my breath when she opens the door. She drags me out of the safe room. I gasp when I can’t hold it any longer, but it’s not so bad now. There’s still voices above my head, but they sound like people. We walk to find Daddy.

               Familiar footsteps clomp behind. Spencer is following. “Excuse me, can I ask for her Mama’s name? I’d like to keep her in my prayers.”

                Aunt Janie stands real still, then sighs. “Sure, it’s Amanda Thomas.”

               Spencer changes right in front of me. His eyes go wild. Something rips his mouth open. He looks like a zombie.

I hide behind Aunt Janie’s legs.

               Spencer speaks but it’s not his voice that comes out. “I’m going to pray really hard for your Mama to get all better, okay?”

               Aunt Janie quickly says, “Thank you,” while pulling me down the hallway.

               “Aunt Janie, what’s wrong with Spencer?”

               “Madison, there’s nothing wrong with him. Let’s just forget about Spencer. We’re going to see Daddy, okay?”

               I twist my head back. He watches us walk away, his body hollow and lifeless. He doesn’t move at all.

               There really is a monster. And it took Spencer.