Monster - A. Lee Martinez [74]
“I don’t want a magic pen.”
Ed lowered her book just enough to peer over its cover. “What’s the difference?”
“Anybody can have a magic pen,” said Ferdinand. “Lucky pens are a lot rarer.”
Ed thought about this a moment. She didn’t see the logic, but then again, she rarely did. Ed wasn’t a logical sort. She made up for it with a sunny disposition.
“I know,” she said. “We could go into the kitchen and try out all the other pens. I’m sure one of them will be lucky.”
Ferdinand found the idea absurd, but she was intrigued.
“How would we find that out?”
“I could think of a number between one and ten,” Ed proposed. “One pen at a time, you’ll write a number, and the first pen that gets it right must be the lucky one.”
Ferdinand nodded. “That’s not such a bad idea.”
“Goody!” Ed jumped up, throwing her book to the side. “This will be fun! I think I’ll go with nine. That’s a good number.”
“You can’t tell me what it is beforehand,” said Ferdinand.
“Sorry. Okay, so it won’t be nine, then. For sure out of all the numbers it could be, it’s not nine. Definitely not.”
“It’s nine, isn’t it?”
“Wow, that’s good,” said Ed as she followed Ferdinand into the kitchen. “Are you sure you need a lucky pen?”
Meanwhile, the fox-faced creature, Ferdinand’s lucky pen firmly in hand, slipped from its hiding place under the couch and darted up the stairs. It was naturally sneaky, so it didn’t make a sound. Not that it had to contend with any sentries. Only cats, and they were all too busy with their own concerns (mostly napping and cleaning themselves) to care about one more furry beast roaming the house’s halls.
The creature sniffed its way toward its target, guided by its keen sense of smell. One door caught its attention, and a few moments with its nose pressed under the doorjamb confirmed it had found who it was looking for. With one jump, it latched on to the handle. It set its feet apart and twisted its entire body to turn the knob. The protective spell only kept the door locked from the other side, so it opened. The creature jumped off the door, and it slowly began to swing shut again.
Monster was in the middle of putting on his new pants. He jumped toward the door, tripping on the loose pant leg. He still might’ve made it except that the fox-faced beast dashed under his feet. Monster fell just short, and the door closed with a click.
“Son of a bitch.” He turned over on his back and stared at the ceiling, wearing an unbuttoned shirt that was a size too small and trousers only halfway on.
The imp climbed onto his chest and, yipping, held out Ferdinand’s lucky pen.
“Thanks.” Monster took the pen. “This is just what I needed.”
The imp wagged its stubby tail and licked him twice on the chin. It hopped onto the nightstand and tipped the tray, sending the meal flying through the air to land on the bed.
“You didn’t have to do that,” said Monster. “I wasn’t going to eat it.”
The creature yipped before making absolutely sure of that by stomping on the sandwich and urinating on the cookies.
Monster sat on the corner of the bed that wasn’t soaked with beer or imp piss. The creature, having apparently accomplished its mission, lost all interest in Monster. It amused itself by tearing up the pillow.
Monster studied the pen in his hand. It wasn’t hard to figure out what was going on. Judy’s subconscious was at work again. She must have summoned the imp and ordered it to bring him a writing utensil as a means of escape.
This still didn’t make a bit of sense. One moment, Judy was out to kill him. The next, she was looking to him for rescue. He didn’t even see why she needed him at all. She had the power to summon all manner of cryptobiological beasts. There were probably limits, but if she could call up an army of gaborchends, Inuit walrus horrors, winged horses, and purple worms, then she should’ve easily been able to escape on her own. If she was going to send a crypto to his rescue, why send an imp with a pen when a dragon would work just as well? Why bother with this half-assed approach?
No, there was