Jeff Strand - Dweller

“But we’ll show him this picture. He’ll love it.”

“Careful. Be very careful.”

One month and ten visits later, they walked toward Owen again. Owen stood in his chains, arms at his sides, head lowered slightly as if to say, “I’m a humble, harmless creature.”

While Garrett stayed back a few feet, Toby moved right up to Owen and stroked his fur. “Yeah, you’re a good boy, right? The best buddy ever. It’s going to be a pleasant experience for everybody. No gore at all. Is everybody calm and happy?”

Yes.

“One more time: you’re a good boy, right?”

“You’re treating him like a dog,” Garrett said.

“I’m being cautious.”

“He doesn’t like that, though. He’s smarter than a dog.”

“Yeah, and he’s also got way bigger claws and teeth than a dog, and as your father I’m allowed to be overprotective. Put your mask on.”

“This is stupid.”

“Mask.”

“Yes, sir.” Garrett put on the mask, which completed his baseball catcher’s uniform. It wasn’t as good as a suit of armor, but if Owen did lash out unexpectedly, this would help protect him from scratches. Toby would much rather have his son look like a fool than risk having this encounter end with bloodshed.

“Gloves, too.”

Garrett put on the thick, padded gloves without protest.

“All right. Come on up.”

Garrett stood there for a moment, as if working up his courage.

“You can take as long as you need.”

It took Garrett another couple of minutes. Then he stepped forward, reached out, and gently touched Owen with his index finger.

“Easy,” Toby warned Owen, even though Owen hadn’t moved.

Garrett moved a bit closer, then began to pet Owen’s arm. The monster remained docile.

“Isn’t that cool?” Toby asked.

“Not with the gloves.”

“Okay, you can take the gloves off. But that’s it.”

Garrett pulled off the gloves and shoved them back into his pocket. He ran his fingers through Owen’s fur. “He’s got bugs on him.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You should give him a bath.”

“Do you want a monster or a poodle?”

“A monster.”

“He’s got lots of knots in his hair, too. I haven’t been combing him as much as I used to.”

“Can I do it?”

“Not today. But you can someday.”

“I like him.”

“Me, too. Okay, that’s enough for now.”

As Garrett stepped away, Owen signed: Friend.

“He says you’re his friend,” said Toby.

Garrett smiled and made the friend sign back.

“Why can’t we go see him?” Garrett asked.

“Do you know what ‘arousing suspicion’ means?”

Garrett considered that. “It means people think you’re doing something bad?”

“Pretty much. If we go out there too often, then your mother will question what we’re up to, and then there’s a bigger chance that she’ll find out about Owen. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah.” Garrett looked disappointed.

“I’d be out there with Owen all day, every day if I could be. Heck, I’d have him move in with us, give him his own bedroom. But since we can’t, we have to be careful.”

“Okay.”

Toby had to admit to himself that it probably wasn’t a very good parenting technique to give his child advice on how to avoid arousing suspicion in his parent when breaking the rules, but this wasn’t a normal situation. There was nothing better than the excitement in Garrett’s eyes when they went off to see Owen, and he couldn’t risk Sarah finding out.

“We’ll go tomorrow, though. I promise.”

“Can Hannah come with us sometime?”

“Not until she’s eight.”

As they approached the shack, Toby realized that it had been over three months since he’d visited Owen by himself for any reason except to fasten the chains. It was a wonderful realization.

“Oooh, yeah, you’re getting a welt there,” Toby said, inspecting Owen’s right wrist. “Maybe we can pad it somehow. Do you think they sell fuzzy handcuffs in your size?”

Owen either didn’t get the joke, or didn’t find it amusing. Toby suspected the latter.

“We’ll leave one of them off, just for today. Will that make you happy?”

Yes.

Owen kept his arm at his side the entire time, just as Toby knew he’d do.

It was cruel to keep his best friend chained up like this. Sure, Owen loved getting to interact with somebody besides Toby (excluding the unfortunate animals he killed for food) but these conditions were becoming tiring. It was sadistic, as if he were bringing his son to gape at the sideshow freak every three or four days.

Regardless, it was several more months before Toby felt comfortable enough to let Garrett see him without the chains.

There was no danger.

None at all.

Owen was gentle, even when Garrett started roughhousing with him a bit. Yes, Toby had to call for them to stop a couple of times-okay, a few times-when the game of tag got too feisty, but his son was far rowdier than his monster. Owen played with him like a grandfather might-having fun, but always aware that he was the adult and Garrett was the child and that it was his responsibility to make sure Garrett didn’t get hurt.

Garrett loved feeding him. He’d toss popcorn and beef jerky and jelly beans into his mouth, and Owen would show off his impressive catching abilities with far more glee than he’d ever shown with Toby. It was as if having a kid around made the monster feel young again.

“We should build a roller coaster out here for him,” said Garrett.

“No way. How much do you think a big guy like him pukes? We can’t be cleaning that up all day.” He playfully tapped Garrett on the head. “Use your brain, boy.”

“What about a merry-go-round?”

“No offense to Owen, but if I build a merry-go-round, it’s going to be for your sister.”

“She could use it, too.”

“How about we build him a chair? A rocking chair. You exhaust the hell out of the poor guy, and he needs something to relax in after you’re gone.”

Yes.

Garrett was fascinated by Owen’s love for ice cream, but not a fan of the process of lugging an ice-filled cooler out there to provide his friend with a nonmelted treat. However, once the first snow fell, the three of them scooped snow into bowls, added syrup, and had homemade slushies.

“Are you sure I can’t bring him to school?”

“You will never, ever be allowed to take him to school. He’s not a show-and-tell project.”

“What about his tooth?”

“No.” Owen had lost another tooth, and Garrett had volunteered to keep it under his pillow and split the unquestionably huge Tooth Fairy payout with Owen. Toby explained that the Tooth Fairy’s payment process was not based on tooth size, and that, no, he could not put the tooth under his pillow, and no, he could not bring it home, and actually, he shouldn’t even be touching it because, no offense to Owen, it was a nasty, smelly tooth.

“Will I ever be allowed to come out here by myself?” Garrett asked.

“Sure.”

“When?”

“When I’m dead.”

“But that’s going to be a long time!”

“And don’t sound so disappointed about that! What you mean is, ‘Gosh, Daddy, I hope you live forever and ever, even if it means that I never get to see Owen all by my lonesome.’”

“ ‘Gosh, Daddy, I hope I get to see Owen by myself tomorrow!’”

“Garrett!”

“I was joking!”

“Did you think it was a funny joke? Do you think it makes me feel good to hear you say things like that? Both you and Owen will be really sad if I die.”

“I said I was only kidding! Jeez!”

“I don’t care if you were kidding or not. There are some things you don’t joke about. I think it’s time to go home.”