Page 1 of Monster's Madhouse
Monster
Monster hated the month of October from the very first day to the last. He hated the sadness that engulfed him on October first, but there was never any way to avoid it happening. October was the month that his pregnant wife, Heather, had died and changed the trajectory of his life forever.
He blamed himself, of course, because if he had just driven Heather to her OB appointment, his family might still be intact. But he was an idiot and insisted that he couldn’t miss work. He was stressed out about having to get everything that the baby would need before his or her arrival. Plus, he was saving every penny, wanting to make sure that his family would have financial security for anything that might come up in the future. But it had all been for nothing, because now, he had no family, and yeah, that was all his fault.
Even five years later, he remembered that day as though it were yesterday. Heather was driving through a nasty thunderstorm to get to her appointment. The weatherman had said that it was supposed to be a sunny, warm day, but he had it all wrong. When the thunderstorm warning popped up, Monstertried to call to warn Heather to stay home, but he was too late. She had already left for her appointment. Monster got the call to come to the hospital minutes after trying to call her, and he knew, deep down, he knew that she was gone. He felt emptiness that he just couldn’t explain until he heard the doctor tell him that both Heather and his daughter were gone.
“It’s a girl?” he asked the doctor as tears streamed down his face. Monster and Heather had decided to hold off on finding out the baby’s sex, wanting it to be a surprise. She was old-fashioned like that, and Monster loved everything about Heather.
“Yes,” the doctor said, “you’ll have to identify your wife’s body down at the morgue, I’m afraid, and then she can be released to a funeral home of your choice.” There was a funeral home just down the street from the bar that he owned, and Monster knew that he could trust the owner, Drifter. He was a regular at the bar and seemed like a decent guy. Monster nodded at the doctor, not sure that there was anything more to say, and started for the elevator. He was going to go to the morgue, say goodbye to the only woman he’d ever loved, and find a way to walk away from what was supposed to be his future. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to do it, but somehow, he found the strength to.
Monster still missed Heather and the baby that he never got to know, but he found a way to move forward. He had to. It was what Heather would have wanted him to do, but it wasn’t easy. He had his friends down at his bar—Monster’s Madhouse. That name fit the rowdy bunch of guys and their Ol’ladies who came in night after night to eat, drink, and cause a ruckus. They had formed an MC called the Toxic Monsters after him. They elected Monster to be their Prez, even though he really didn’t want the job at first. Over time, he learned to love being the patriarch of his band of brothers and couldn’t imagine playing any other role in the club.
Drifter walked into the bar looking like someone had kicked his puppy and sat down on one of the barstools. “You okay, man?” Monster asked. He grabbed a frosted mug from the freezer and poured Drifter a draft.
“No, but I will be,” he grumbled. “You remember when I told you that my good-for-nothing mother had taken off and left my little sister, Josie?” Monster had gotten to know Drifter after his wife’s burial. Some of the guys even referred to them as best friends, and he had to admit that it was pretty accurate. He and Drifter had discovered that they had a lot in common as they got to know each other over the years. Drifter’s wife had left him after just six weeks of being married. She had run off with another man, leaving him heartbroken. Plus, they were both from broken families. Drifter had kept in touch with his mother because she had custody of his younger sister until Josie turned eighteen. Even though Monster had never had his parents in his life, he had to admit that he admired Drifter for putting up with his mother’s bullshit when it came to Josie.
“Who is Josie staying with now?” Monster asked. She was about fourteen, and Monster couldn’t imagine her being happy in foster care. Hell, he fucking hated foster care, having spent his entire childhood in various homes. At first, he hoped to be adopted, but at the age of eight, he realized that families didn’t want a kid—they wanted a baby.
“She’s being held by Child Protective Services until I can figure out what to do next. My grandmother offered to take her in, but she’s eighty-five now. Josie would end up taking care of her, and that’s no life for a kid,” Drifter insisted.
“No,” Monster breathed, “it’s not. He knew from experience, too. A lot of the homes that he had stayed in over the years used him as a servant. He’d do their yard maintenance, clean their houses, and he even took care of the other kids in the home. Most of the families told him that if he didn’t help out, he’d bekicked out, but he didn’t care. Monster wanted to be kicked out of those awful places. He dreamt of being out on his own. Maybe that’s why when he found Heather, he held onto her as tightly as possible.
“She’s three hours away from here, and I’m feeling pretty hopeless,” Drifter admitted. “You have any advice for me?”
Monster shrugged, “Why not take her yourself? You are her only relative young enough to be able to take care of her, right?” he asked. Monster knew that Drifter’s father was never really in the picture, and he had just one sibling—Josie.
“I could take her in, but I have no idea what to do or how to take care of a teenage girl,” Drifter admitted. The terrified look on his face was almost comical. Monster felt bad for his friend, but he had to admit, the thought of Drifter taking care of a teenage girl was hilarious.
“It’s not funny,” Drifter shouted. “I need advice right now,” he said, “not someone who is going to laugh at me.”
“You’re right, I’m an ass,” Monster insisted.
“Correct,” Drifter agreed, “you are an ass, but that still doesn’t help me with what to do about Josie.”
“What does CPS say? Did they offer any help?” Monster said. He honestly had no idea what to tell his friend.
“They say that I should take her in because a girl her age should be in a safe home with a relative rather than a group home where anything could happen.” Drifter ran his hands through his short, dark hair, making it stand on end. “I guess I know what to do, I’m just terrified to say it out loud.” Monster nodded and gave his friend his best sympathetic smile.
“You know that the club will back you, Drifter. Whatever you need, just ask.” “Thanks, man,” Drifter said. “I know that I can always count on the Toxic Monsters, but it’s good to hear you say that, Monster. I guess I’ll call the woman back and tell her that I’ll take Josie.”
“I think that you’re doing the right thing,” Monster said. “As someone who grew up in the system, I know how tough it can be. Josie is a strong girl, but even she might have trouble in the group homes that they stick kids in now.”
Drifter nodded and pulled his cell from his leather jacket. He held the phone up to his ear, as if trying to drown out some of the noise. “Hello, I’m trying to reach Miss Blitz. This is Daniel Simmons—Drifter. We talked earlier about my sister, Josie.” Drifter listened to whoever was on the other line and smiled. “Okay, I’ll just call you Blitz then. I’ve thought about everything, and I’d like to move Josie here to live with me.” He was quiet for a few more minutes, and the scowl on his face didn’t seem to bode well for the happy ending that he was hoping for.
“I can’t just move there,” he insisted, “I own a business here and can’t move. She will have to come here to live, or I’ll have to come up with plan B. Hold on a sec.” Drifter nodded back to Monster's office, and he nodded, following his friend. They went into the quiet room, and Drifter put the call on speaker.
“Sorry, it was noisy out where I was. This is much better. What were you saying, Blitz?” Drifter asked.
“I was asking how you’d feel about me sticking around town for a few weeks to make sure that Josie is safe and happy.” Monster could see Drifter’s anger ramp up—his face turning bright red. He put his hand on his friend’s arm, trying to stop him from doing or saying something that he’d regret.
“Suit yourself,” Drifter growled. “I can’t stop you from sticking around town. But I can assure you that my little sister will be safe and well cared for. As for her being happy, I have no clue if she will be. How happy would you be if you grew up without a father and a mother who just took off on you for no good reason?” he asked.
Blitz sighed into the other end of the line. “I understand, I didn’t mean it the way that it sounded. I was once in Josie’sshoes, and for some reason, your sister reminds me of myself when I was her age. I’m just trying to help her, Drifter,” she insisted. “I’ll drive her to you myself. We’ll leave in the morning, and we should be with you by lunchtime. Text me the address where you’d like to meet.”
“Shit, I have a funeral tomorrow. Can you meet me at my funeral home?” he asked. Monster motioned to him to put the call on hold. “Hold on for just a minute, Blitz.” He cupped his hand over the phone and shot Monster a look. “Don’t be upset, but are you sure that it’s a good idea to meet your little sister at your funeral home? Shouldn’t you work her up to the fact that you work with dead people?”
“I guess you’re right,” Drifter admitted.
