Jeff Strand - Dweller

“So do you think I’ve been obsessing about turning fifty?” Toby asked. “Sarah thinks I have. I don’t know, I probably have, but I guess my real question is, do you think there’s anything wrong with obsessing about turning fifty? It’s what I’d expect other people to do. And Sarah wasn’t exactly bouncing with joy when she turned forty-you know that, I told you about it. Hey, chew with your mouth closed. Nobody wants to see that.”

As always, Owen continued to chew with his mouth open. Toby hated being here right after a fresh kill. “Do you really have to do that in front of me?”

Yes.

“Okay, then. That answers my question. I can’t stay long today, anyway. I promised Garrett we’d get started on that tree house.”

Bring him.

“You say that every time. Not going to happen, buddy. Not if I want to stay out of divorce court.”

Owen looked disappointed. But, let’s face it, life was full of disappointments.

“There’s one behind the tree!” Garrett shouted.

“Holy cow! Shoot it! Shoot it!”

Garrett pointed his fingers at the tree and zapped the imaginary space invader. Then he made a sound effect to indicate that the alien had blown into a million pieces, the bits scattering across several acres.

“Good job,” Toby said. “The woods are safe.”

They stood in the backyard. The tallest of the three trees in their yard had been declared the site of the new tree house, which meant that they’d have to saw off a few branches and displace a squirrel.

Toby looked over the plans that Garrett had carefully drawn up. They depicted a two-level structure with a fireman’s pole connecting them. There was a secret passage, a guest bedroom, a room with a fully functional alligator pit where enemies could be deposited, a pizza parlor, and a cannon. Garrett was aware that the project had to be scaled back, though Toby promised to respect his creative vision.

“All right,” Toby said, brandishing the hacksaw like a knight’s sword, “neither one of us has a clue what we’re doing, so we’ll make a good team. Your job is to hold the stepladder, while Mom watches us through the window and gets really nervous. Can you handle that?”

“I want to cut down the branches.”

“Okay, here, have a dangerous saw-no. I’ll do the cutting. You can haul away. That’s a lot more fun.”

“Watch out, Daddy!” Garrett shouted, pointing at the same tree as before. “It’s another one!”

Toby turned and shot at the alien with the hacksaw, which didn’t make logistical sense but seemed effective. “Okay, we need to drop the alien stuff,” he said. “We’ve got hard work ahead.”

Garrett saluted. “Yes, sir!”

Toby scooted the stepladder closer to the trunk of the tree and then climbed up a couple of steps. “Make sure it’s sturdy,” he said. “Hold it with both hands.”

“I’ve got it.”

Toby sawed away at the excess branches, carefully tossing them aside as he cut each one from the tree. This was going to be a fantastic tree house. Garrett was going to be the envy of the neighborhood kids. This would make him some friends.

“Do you think it’s going to be safe?” Sarah asked.

“Yep. I’ve already given him the lecture about not going near it until it’s finished, and I won’t let him up there alone until I’ve done jumping jacks inside.”

“How’s your back?”

“It’s fine,” Toby lied. It wasn’t anything a few aspirin couldn’t fix.

She kissed him. They still kissed, and laughed, and made love, but it really wasn’t the same. The jokes felt more forced, the Sunday morning cuddling less intimate. She didn’t seem to have missed him as much when he came back from the long walks in the forest by himself.

Still, he had a lot of joy in his life. Garrett, Hannah, and Owen.

“Can I come?” Garrett asked, looking away from his video game. Toby figured he had to be doing pretty well as a father-it was a place of high honor to pull Garrett’s attention from his Nintendo. Toby had played games with him on a few occasions, and found himself getting embarrassingly addicted, so he tried to avoid them when at all possible.

“This is Daddy-alone time,” Sarah explained. She sat on the couch, holding Hannah on her lap.

“Please?”

“Not this time,” said Toby. “Next one’s yours.”

Garrett returned to his video game. Toby and Sarah had gotten lucky-he rarely got whiny about anything. Having kids forced them to socialize with other parents, and some of those other children were tantrum-throwing demons.

He hadn’t seen Owen in three days. It just wasn’t easy to get out of the house alone, except to go to work. He really wished there were another Owen-creature, maybe Esmerelda, that lived nearby to keep him company. It would help ease his guilt about not being able to visit more often.

He had a brand-new picture of Garrett and Hannah, covered with pancake batter, to show Owen. Owen loved seeing the pictures. He’d only accidentally ripped two.

Toby hated not being able to bring his son along.

Hated it.

Sarah would never understand, but Garrett would. Garrett would think it was the greatest thing ever. Toby could picture his expression of wonder. Some fear at first, yeah, but it would transform into pure joy at the discovery his father had shared with him.

They could come out and visit Owen every day.

Just he and Garrett. Father and son.

But it could never happen. Not a chance. This was always going to be Toby’s secret, hidden from the world forever. Maybe even after he died. Some kid would be wandering through the woods fifty years from now, and he’d find the remains of a quaint old shack, and thoughts of what might have lived there would capture his imagination. Maybe he’d envision something with even bigger talons, bigger teeth, and scarier eyes.

Or maybe Owen would still be alive, and he’d find a new friend.

Goddamn he hated not being able to share this with his son. What a cruel joke, that something that gave him this much joy had to remain hidden, a dark, dirty secret. In what kind of universe was it fair that he couldn’t tell his own son about the greatest discovery of his life?

Granted, there were murders involved…

Still…

Owen looked particularly happy to see him this time, and Toby didn’t even come bearing treats. As Owen hugged him, Toby wondered why he couldn’t bring Garrett out there to meet him.

Garrett was old enough to keep a secret. Toby had kept his own secret at age eight. No, wait, he hadn’t-he’d told his parents everything, but when they hadn’t believed him, he’d kept it a secret from everybody else.

Until Melissa.

Forget the past. No, don’t forget the past, learn from it. Garrett would keep Owen a secret. Toby knew he would. And if he didn’t, well, Toby’s parents hadn’t believed him, so why would Sarah believe Garrett now?

“Yep, that’s one crazy kid we’ve got,” Toby would say with a laugh. “What an imagination! Reminds me of me when I was his age. I thought I saw a monster out there, too. Garrett’s lucky, though-I got a spanking, and we don’t believe in physical punishment.”

Melissa had accidentally scratched Owen’s eyeball. The monster had been peaceful until then. Owen would never hurt Toby’s son on purpose, and if Toby took every possible precaution…

No. Terrible idea.

Or, life-changing brilliant idea.

He’d have to think about this some more. Brainstorm from every angle.

Good Lord, was he excited.

“Owen, I may bring you another friend,” Toby said, one week later.

Owen looked positively delighted at this prospect.

“But there are parts of this that you’re not going to like, and if you don’t agree to them it’s not going to happen. So, how do you feel about being in a cage?”