Page 10 of Creature
“W-will you study me?” Themonster interlaced his sticklike fingers as if inprayer.
“What?”
“Study.” The monstertraced a thumb down the long scar bisecting his belly, then lookedup at Harry with an anxious frown.
“I don’t know what you’retalking about.” Although Harry had a sinking feeling he knewexactlywhat was meant.When the Bureau had first acquired the monster, wouldn’t men likeTownsend have taken him apart to see what made him tick? Swallowingbile, Harry shook his head. “I’m not gonna… hurt you.”
The monster’s smile should have beenterrible—thin lips stretched over yellowed teeth like adeath’s-head image on a grave. But he didn’t look terrible, noteven with the few remaining wisps of pale hair trailing from hisscalp.
Harry cleared his throat. “You said…. Yourname….”
“John. Please, please callme John.”
“All right,John.”
The monster’s—John’s—smile stretched evenwider and he breathed a long sigh. “Thank you.”
“I’m, uh, Harry Lowe.”Nobody had ever taught him proper etiquette for introductions withthe undead. He didn’t feel as awkward as might be expected, though,probably because John was staring at him as though Harry weresomething amazing.
By now John was relatively clean, andHarry’s knees had begun to ache. He stood and wiped imaginary dustfrom his pants. “I need dinner.” But he couldn’t just leave John inthe tub, so Harry pulled the plug from the drain and then wipedJohn down with a towel before carrying him back to bed. “Stay hereand be quiet. I’ll be back soon.”
“Yes.” John stroked thebedspread and gave another smile. “It’s soft.”
Harry nodded curtly and left the room.
Earlier, he’d spied a little diner a coupleof blocks away. He decided to walk rather than drive since he’d hadno exercise at all today, apart from carrying John. But while theshort stroll helped stretch his legs, it did little to clear hishead.
The place was called Hazel’s Drive-In, andthe big, brightly lit windows looked inviting. Judging by thenumber of cars and trucks parked there, the food was probablydecent too—an assumption supported when Harry entered and inhaledthe delicious scents of sizzling meat and frying potatoes. But thedin of conversation made him wince, and so did Eddie Fishercrooning on the jukebox.
“Just one?” asked thewaitress nearest the door. She slightly resembled Harry’s mother,with her drawn-on eyebrows, too-red lipstick, and deep lines at thecorners of her mouth.
“Can I, um, get somethingto take with me?”
“Sure, honey.” She handedhim a menu. “Whattaya want?”
He glanced at the offerings. “Cheeseburgerwith everything and french fries. And a bottle of Coke.”
“How about a piece of pieto go with? Our apple’s real good.”
“Okay.” He had plenty ofcash right now; he could afford a small splurge.
“That’s a dollar and fivecents.”
He gave her the money and then leanedagainst a pillar near the entrance, watching the other customers.Tables held young couples or raucous groups of teenagers orfamilies with little children. Some men sat at the counter; maybethey were travelers, like him. Harry wondered what these peoplewould think if they knew his errand. If they discovered what lay inhis bed at the El Rancho Motel. Or if they learned any of his othersecrets, for that matter. But none of them even glanced hisway.
The waitress returned quickly with a paperbag containing his food. At the cashier stand, she added a fewpaper napkins, a couple of mints, and a book of matches. “Thanks,”Harry said when she handed everything over. He gave her a quarter,which she tucked into her apron.
“You have a good evening,now,” she said.
He returned quickly to the motel, eatingsome of the french fries along the way. He almost expected todiscover John missing, but when Harry opened the door, there wasJohn on the bed, exactly as Harry had left him. He probablycouldn’t have gone far even if he tried. As far as Harry couldtell, John couldn’t sit upright, let alone stand.
Harry plopped down in the armchair facingthe bed, and John watched as he pulled out the paper-wrappedhamburger, the cardboard container of french fries, and the bottleof Coke. Then Harry set the bag on the adjacent dresser with thepie still inside. “You, um, don’t need to eat, right?”
The answer came as hardly more than awhisper. “I don’t.”
“Okay.” Thick, juicy, anda little greasy, the cheeseburger tasted great. But having Johnstare at him while he ate was weird, especially because John’snudity was suddenly very obvious. He’d been naked all along, ofcourse, and Harry had touched almost all of him when John was inthe tub. But Harry hadn’t really been thinking of him as a personthen, while now for some reason he did.
After finishing the burger, he wiped hishands clean with the napkins, stood, and proclaimed, “Clothes.”John watched Harry lift his suitcase onto the empty side of the bedand shuffle through the contents. Nothing he owned would be aproper fit for John, who was little more than a skin-coveredskeleton, but eventually Harry selected an undershirt and pair oftan trousers.
