A Monster Escapes Read online

  A Monster Escapes by Lewis Wolfe

  www.lewiswolfe.com

  © 2019 Lewis Wolfe

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact:

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  Contents

  Jane Elring – Part 1

  Beginnings

  Day 1

  Memories

  Day 2 – Part 1

  Jane Elring – Part 2

  Day 2 – Part 2

  Day 3

  Chocolate Milk

  Day 4 – Part 1

  Good Fortune

  Day 4 – Part 2

  Day 5

  Open Endings

  Justifications

  JANE ELRING – PART 1

  (October 22, 2019)

  Caleb found himself in an office that was larger than the entirety of his downtown apartment. Its emptiness was striking, as if it somehow belonged to somebody with no identity. A person without a past, without a preference. As if color and decoration had no meaning.

  The office was white, so very white, from the walls to the floor to the ceiling. The vastness of this white sea was interrupted only by the black desk centered in the room, as dark as Caleb’s own skin.

  He sat there now on an awkward plastic chair as he watched the young girl that had let him in earlier. She couldn’t be a day older than fourteen, Caleb thought as he waited for words that would never come. (‘Let me get my father….’)

  The girl sat down in the office chair behind the desk and gave him an eager smile. “I’m glad you could make it on such short notice!” she said.

  Caleb nodded as he studied her appearance one more time. He couldn’t be wrong, right? Those big dark eyes. The fine structure of her face. Thin lips and a fragile nose. In all, a delicate face crowned by mid-length blonde hair. This was a child.

  “I’m not what you expected.” The girl leaned forward and threw him another one of her effortless smiles.

  Caleb shook his head. “I’m sorry. My guy mentioned somebody was hiring a bodyguard.”

  “Indeed, I am.”

  “How old are you? Sixteen?”

  Again those delicate lips curled, this time playfully. Then the girl reached into her drawer and pulled out a leather wallet. Carefully her fingers reached inside and withdrew her ID. With yet another smile she placed it on the desk and shoved it toward her guest.

  Caleb took the ID and studied it for a moment. He had seen many ID cards, a lot of them fake, as a bouncer at The Punchline. This ID looked real.

  “You’re twenty-three years old?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I know I look very young for my age, but I assure you the ID is valid. And I can pay.”

  Caleb returned the ID to her and watched as she put it back in the wallet, then the wallet back into the drawer. The drawer closed gently by movements that were almost eerily careful. What could this young girl—young woman—possibly need a bodyguard for?

  “Why don’t I tell you a bit about what I do.” She leaned back in her chair as she gave him an appraising look. “Then you can decide for yourself whether or not you’d like to get involved.”

  Caleb simply nodded.

  “My name is Jane. Jane Elring. I work for the government as somewhat of a detective and general problem-solver. I am specifically asked to consult on cases that make no progress through conventional means. Things that are often….” She paused. “Things that are often very strange. Mysterious, one might say.”

  Caleb asked, “If you’re government, why would you need a private bodyguard? Plenty of good men in the field.”

  Plenty of bad men too, Caleb knew from experience, though he declined to mentioned it.

  “I am not technically government. I am employed by the government.” Jane thought a moment before she continued. “My relationship with the people that consult with me is complicated.”

  Caleb didn’t quite know what to make of it. He believed what the young woman told him, though little it was, and knew all too well the risk a private citizen took when dealing with the deeper, sometimes darker, elements within the government.

  “So about you….” Jane’s previous serious expression had made room for another one of her trademark smiles. “What would qualify you as a good bodyguard?”

  “My experiences are in military. I joined when I was eighteen, stayed until I was thirty-two.”

  “What field?”

  “I was a marine for years. Did some classified stuff after that.”

  Some classified stuff. Caleb heard himself say the words, as if they could ever hint at the truth of his world back then.

  Jane asked, “Black operations?”

  “There is no legal way for me to answer that question truthfully.”

  This time Jane’s smile made room for a wide grin. “And yet you just provided a perfectly adequate answer!”

  “A lot of the stuff I did is still classified. I really can’t go into detail there.”

  “No need. And after the ‘classified stuff’?”

  Caleb knew the question would come, yet it still presented him with a darkness of emotions that was at times hard to swallow.

  After the classified stuff? A crippling descent into what was a semblance of a meaningful life, if that. Alcohol, a lot of it, had made life bearable, but when his doctor had informed him of his declining health, not even that crutch remained available to him.

  “I worked as a bouncer the last two years,” he said eventually.

  Caleb knew his interviewer wasn’t blind. She could see the beer belly, the fledgling man boobs, and the wattle of fat beneath his chin. Her eyes on him made him suddenly very self-aware. He felt so horribly out of shape.

  Jane didn’t mention his physique. Instead she asked, “From ‘classified stuff’ to bouncer seems very abrupt. What happened?”

  Again a question that attempted to probe where Caleb would rather not allow access. “You know. Just a change of pace. Got tired of all the chaos and the fighting.”

  “Being a bouncer is a peaceful line of work?”

  “It is when you’re good at it.”

  Jane nodded, not pursuing the line of inquiry further. Instead she asked, “Any family? A wife? Kids?”

  Caleb’s last family member died of stomach cancer half a year after he quit the army. He didn’t like to remember the countless hours he’d spent praying for his mother’s health and safety. Praying to the cruel god that simply spat in his face and took his mother anyway. Took her in a way that was painful and humiliating. Bestowed upon her a fate that she hadn’t deserved.

  But he wouldn’t tell his interviewer that. She didn’t need to know. She wasn’t entitled to the pain he felt, the sadness and the frustration at watching a monster ravage his mother’s insides.

  “No family,” he said and realized once more that he was utterly and completely alone.

  Jane leaned forward, her dark gaze fixed intently on her guest. “You are a man of quite some secrets. That’s fine. I have secrets too. I understand that they’re valuable. That they’re … necessary… in lives that are complicated.”

  The phone buzzing in her pocket interrupted her.

  Caleb listened as she answered the phone.

  “Jane Elring.”

  She paused to listen.

  “Is it happening?”

  Another pause.

  “When do you want me there?… Yes, I’ll be there.” She listened for another moment. “You want to know how many? Wait….”

  Jane removed the phone from her ear and covered the speaker with her small hand. “Mr. Caleb Epps, will you be my bodyguard?”

  Would he be her bodyguard
? Could he afford not to be? Was there anything left in his life that held any meaning? Could he go back? Be the man he once knew he wanted to be, but had only ever approximated?

  Caleb had no way forward and no way back. The roads to his left and right were blocked off. There was only here, now, in the company of this mysterious young woman. With her deep, dark look that was friendly and inquiring.

  If he took the contract Caleb knew he would see it through until the very end. He was, he believed, still that man at least.

  As these thoughts raced through his mind he heard himself say, “Yes. Yes, I’ll be your bodyguard.”

  Jane put the phone back against her ear and said, “Two. There will be two of us.”

  BEGINNINGS

  1

  (February 21, 2019)

  Twilight. February’s air got colder by the hour as the sunlight faded from the day’s sky.

  Ellie found herself walking along a nearly deserted highway. She had no idea where she was going next. She hardly knew where she was to begin with. Somewhere in Alabama. She gathered that much reading the signs.

  To Ellie it felt as if she had traveled half the globe, even if she’d only really passed through two states since running away from home. Cleveland, Ohio.

  She didn’t want to think about Cleveland anymore.

  Her body was here, now. Walking in the twilight, by herself, hoping to hitch a ride before the night fell on her. Was Alabama safe for a girl like her? A girl of color? Her mother was white. Would that matter? It was 2019, Ellie told herself; she was safe enough. In no more danger, anyway, than in any random car she had gotten into so far.

  An engine roared behind her and Ellie instinctively turned around. The move of her hand was a practiced one at this point, with her thumb pointing slightly upward to signal she wanted a ride. She watched as the old Chevy pickup passed her by and already knew it wouldn’t stop for her. “Fuck,” she whispered to herself.

  Ellie continued along her path to nowhere in particular. She didn’t like the highway. There was too much risk of running into a cop. They would check her ID. Would see she was fourteen. Would send her back home. The one place she didn’t want to be. Cleveland.

  She didn’t want to think about Cleveland anymore.

  The twilight made room for a darker shade as Ellie walked along the highway. She had given up on getting a ride for the night when from behind her she heard another car approaching. She turned around and was blinded by the deadly stare of two headlights pointing in her direction. Her hand went up, her thumb stuck out, and for a moment she wasn’t sure what would happen.

  The car passed her by, then slowed down and stopped a short distance away from her.

  Ellie’s heart jumped a beat and she ran toward the car. No longer blinded by the headlights, she could see what she was dealing with more clearly. A silver Jaguar logo. Four tailpipes. “XK,” it said in silver letters on the back of the pitch-black car.

  Ellie opened the passenger door and jumped into the car. “Sweet ride you got!” She said it on impulse, before even looking to see who she’d gotten into the car with.

  An older man’s voice replied, “Thank you. I am very fond of it.”

  Ellie closed the door and fastened her seat belt. Only then did she take the time to observe the person sitting next to her. She found an aged man with a gentle smile on his face. His eyes were soft and kind and as experienced as the few white strands of hair he had remaining.

  He reached out his hand as he said, “I am Arthur.”

  “Ellie,” she said as she shook his hand.

  “I am only going so far as Brettville,” Arthur told her.

  “How far is Brettville?”

  The old man started driving, diligently checking his mirrors before pulling back onto the road. “Not far, I’m afraid.”

  When he picked up pace on the highway, a matter of seconds in this beast of a car, he asked, “Where are you heading?”

  Ellie lifted her shoulders. “Nowhere in particular, I guess.”

  The old man reflected on her words in silence. When he had mulled over the situation sufficiently he asked, “Been on the road long? You don’t look like you have a lot of money on you.”

  Ellie studied the man’s face as she considered how truthful she wanted to be with him. He seemed peaceful to her; in a less cynical world he might have even been kind.

  “A couple of months,” she answered. “Been hitching rides a lot. Sometimes they buy me food.”

  “That’s very nice of those people.”

  Very nice.

  Ellie said, “Sure is.” She neglected to mention the services she provided to keep the drivers on her good side.

  Again there was a long and painful pause. It seemed to Ellie as if the man’s age had intruded upon his mental faculties. It was clear that he was thinking, pondering, and arriving at conclusions with the speed of a snail.

  She couldn’t handle the long silence. “You live in Alabama?”

  The man nodded. “Going home right now, in fact.” He added, “Brettville.”

  Again a long silence and Ellie took to looking out the window where she watched a dark and meaningless environment flash by. How much longer was she going to do this before she reached a safe haven, even if just a temporary one?

  It was at these moments, when there was nothing to focus on, no voice to listen to, that she felt the fear creeping up on her. Where was she heading? Where would she wind up?

  “If you wish,” the old man spoke up from next to her, “you may spend the night at my home.”

  Ellie looked at him as she tried to decide what she should do. Judging by the car and his clothes he was a wealthy man, so his place would be nice. Of course… she would have to pay. But he seemed clean, or so Ellie thought, as he smelled very nice.

  She decided to accept his offer. “That would be great!” she said.

  A night in good comfort and in relative safety. Ellie decided she was willing to pay for that. She had done worse for less.

  (February 22, 2019)

  Ellie spent her morning at the kitchen table of a mansion so large that it was impossible not to get lost in it. She sat in clothes that weren’t hers, looking at people she didn’t know.

  Their studious eyes on her body scared her. Ellie saw the demands that lingered on the forefront of their minds and she knew that, if it came to it, she wouldn’t be able to say no.

  There was the old man—Arthur Toaves was his name—who sat with his hands folded neatly over one another. His eyes were gray and resided deeply inside his aging skull. The kindness Ellie had seen in them the day before had made room for something more sinister.

  Next to him sat a middle-aged woman with long, dark brown hair. Her strict stare was fixed on Ellie and refused to waver even in the slightest. Ellie knew the woman’s name was Mary and her shoulders, just like her face, hinted at a great strength.

  Arthur said, “I’m glad the clothes fit you.”

  Mary added, “We were lucky we still had them lying around.”

  “Has the rest gone to charity already, Mary?” the old man asked.

  “People are picking it up in the afternoon.”

  Ellie saw that Mary’s words pleased him. His thin lips curled into a fragile smile that she thought would be impossible not to shatter.

  Arthur explained to Ellie, “We collect old clothes from the town. When we have a whole big pile of them we send them off to charity. They’re redistributed to the less fortunate.”

  Ellie nodded without saying a word. She had no idea where she had wound up and the previous night had done little to clarify her situation.

  It had already been dark when they arrived at the mansion and Arthur parked his Jaguar in a garage next to a bunch of other beautiful cars.

  Together they had walked into the mansion where the old man showed her to a large bedroom on the second floor. It came with its own private bathroom and he had told her to take a hot shower.

  Understanding what was
expected from her, Ellie had obeyed. Some men didn’t care, but most liked her to be clean. She had showered in many sleazy motel rooms, placating the men that she hoped would be generous enough to buy her some dinner after the deed had been done.

  After showering Ellie had walked back into the bedroom, expecting to find the old man there, waiting eagerly for her naked body. But he hadn’t been there. Instead, she had found a maid putting out a nightgown for her to wear.

  After the maid collected her dirty clothes from her Ellie had been alone for the rest of the night. Her sleep had been strangely peaceful, even if she was caught in a mansion so large that it threatened to swallow her whole.

  Now she sat with these two perfect strangers at a kitchen table in a world that was foreign to her. Ellie had known luxury from time to time, but nothing quite like this. She wondered what the price for it all would be.

  Mary said, “Your clothes will be clean in a couple of hours. You will stay for lunch, won’t you?”

  Ellie hesitated. Her instinct told her that she had to keep moving. Be on her way. But where was she going next?

  Arthur spoke up. “Ellie. You look very tense. Are you afraid of us?”

  Ellie shook her head and said no. But as she said it, the girl knew her eyes betrayed her.

  Arthur said, “You don’t need to be afraid. You are safe here.”

  Safe. Ellie knew the theoretical meaning of the word. She had felt its deeper meaning on occasion, but that was a long time ago.

  Mary asked, “How long have you been hitchhiking?”

  “Couple of months,” Ellie replied.

  The strong woman’s strict eyes went softer as she said, “Must have been very cold.”

  Ellie nodded as she thought back to the winter nights when she had failed to procure the warmth of a car or a motel room. Christmas had been particularly rough because not too many people were out and about during the holidays.

  Arthur asked, “Ellie, aren’t you tired of hitchhiking?”

  The girl looked at the old man and saw none of the prejudice that sometimes came with privilege. He hadn’t asked his question to mock her, nor without understanding the reality of her impossible situation.