The Owen Street Monster by J. L. Comeau

Most of the time, when we're reading submissions, and find a story we think we might want to buy—I usually put it in a stack of "possibles" for a second or third reading. If I still like it as much the second or third time around, it makes the Contents page. But every now and then, a story just simply zaps me with its energy and its narrative punch. When Elizabeth handed me "The Owen Street Monster," saying "This one is great—we have to buy it!", I knew we had one of those instant winners. It seethes with a just-beneath-the-surface vileness that I simply love. If Judy Comeau keeps turning out concise, powerful little barbs like this, she's going to make a name for herself as a real master of the short form.

(connect)

"Hi, Addie? It's Janine. I just wanted to call and tell you how sorry I am about your loss and let you know I'm here for you if you need anything. Anything at all. God, it's difficult, I know, but really, Addie, you have to go on for the sake of the other children, and... Well..."

Sigh. "Yes, Janine. Thank you so much. I saw you at the funeral yesterday, but I just couldn't—"

"Oh, honey, I understand. We all assumed you'd been given a tranquilizer. You hardly seemed to know where you were. God, Addie, it was so terrible for you, I know."

"No one can know what it's like until they've lost one of their own. I—it's unnatural to bury a child. It should have been David burying me, don't you see? He was only a baby. Six years old. Just six."

"Please don't cry, Addie. You still have Sherman, Jr. and little Melody. They need you to be strong now. Think of them."

"I know you're right, Janine. Thank heaven school started last week. I don't think I could have held out any longer. Poor little David... I, oh... God."

"Oh, Addie, Addie. You poor, poor darling. Try to be courageous for the others. They need your strength, and you're a very strong woman; we all know you are. And remember, if there's ever anything I or any of the other girls on Owen Street can do to help you through this terrible ordeal, we're here for you. Do you hear me? We-are-here-for-you."

"God bless you, Janine. And thank you for all the food you and the girls brought over to the house. I don't know what I would have done—"

"It was nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. You just take good care of yourself, Addie. We love you. Remember that."

"Oh, Janine..."

"Look, honey, I can tell you're a wreck. Go ahead now, get yourself a nice glass of wine and settle down for Oprah. Today she's having on women who've lost their limbs to accidents."

"Arms and legs, you mean?"

"Yes. Can you imagine? Well, look, it's almost four, so I'm going to let you go now."

"Janine?"

"What, hon?"

"Thanks."

"Oh, hush. Bye now."

"Bye bye."

(disconnect)

▼

(connect)

"Hello, Samantha?"

"Yeah. Janine?"

"Yeah."

"Did you see Oprah today? The one about women who've lost their limbs?"

"Yes. Wasn't that bizarre? What are you making for dinner tonight? I can't come up with a thing."

"Oh, Christ. I guess I'll nuke some chicken and boil up some Rice-a-Roni. Maybe I'll just call out for pizza. Tell you the truth, Janine, this maternity leave is about to kill me. I can't wait to get back to work. The kid screams twenty-four hours a day, Jack's whining for tail all the time, and I—"

"Listen, Sam. I talked to Addie Wilmer this afternoon."

"What?"

"Don't get crazy. I just called her to see how she's getting along."

"What did she say?"

"Well, she's grief-stricken, of course. Who wouldn't be after losing a child?"

"Janine, I think we ought to just leave Addie alone."

"Look, Sam, we all live on Owen Street. We're going to be seeing Addie for a long time. She's our neighbor, after all."

"Maybe if we just cut her off, you know, give her the cold shoulder, she'll move away. We could—"

"No, no. That wouldn't work. We don't want to do that. Addie's a good neighbor, Samantha."

"But that kid. That David."

"David's gone, Samantha. He's not a problem any more."

"Yeah. Okay, I guess you're right, Janine. But I just feel so weird with Addie being right down the block. You know?"

"I know, I know. But listen. That boy is gone, so try to be friendly to Addie and her other kids. Please. It means so much. You're my very closest friend, Samantha. I know you can do it."

"Well... All right, Janine. I'll try."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"So how's your sex life, Sammy? Jack keeping you on your back?"

Laugh. "Naw. I'm keeping him on his."

Laugh. "Good for you. Gotta go."

"Right. See ya."

"Bye."

(disconnect)

▼

(connect)

"Nicole?"

"Yes?"

"Janine."

"Oh, hi, Janine. I was just thinking about you."

"We do seem to have some sort of mental connection, don't we?"

"Yes, we truly do. It's uncanny, isn't it? Sometimes I know exactly what you're going to say just before you say it."

"It's the most extraordinary thing. I've heard that best friends like us sometimes develop a kind of telepathy."

"Really? Where did you hear that?"

"Donahue or Geraldo, I guess. I can't remember. It's a fact, though."

"Did you see Oprah yesterday? Women without limbs?"

"Yes. Weird, huh? Today she's having on people who mutilate themselves to relieve stress."

"You are kidding."

"Nope. Not to change the subject, Nicole, but I was talking to Samantha yesterday and she's getting a little nuts about this Addie Wilmer thing."

"About the dead kid, you mean."

"Well, not so much that as she's uncomfortable about facing Addie."

"Samantha is such a wimp."

"Really. But we've got to convince her that developing an attitude against Addie at this point would only be counterproductive and possibly detrimental to everyone concerned."

"Samantha is such a dumb bitch."

"Yes, I know, but I'm counting on you to help Sam through this, Nicole. We all have to help her. Remember, we're only as strong as our weakest link."

"Yeah, I guess we're stuck with her now."

"Yes, Nicole. We are."

"Okay, I'll talk to her, but I've got to go now, Janine. The kids are raising red hell out in the back yard. Christ, I'll be so glad when they're old enough for school. Oh shit, I think one of them's bleeding."

"Go ahead, then, Nicole. And remember, be nice to Samantha. We've all got to help her over the hump."

"I will, I will. Gotta go, Janine. Jason is beating Michelle to a pulp."

"Okay, go ahead. Bye."

(disconnect)

▼

(connect)

"Janine?"

"Hilary?"

"Janine, I've got to talk to you."

"What's the matter?"

"What's the matter? Are you kidding?"

"Hilary, you sound terrible."

"I'm scared, Janine. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I—"

"Hilary. Honey. I'm surprised at you. You were the one who started this whole thing in the first place, remember? You were the one who convinced us all that we had to do it. And you were right, Hilary. One hundred percent right. What's going on?"

"Jesus, I don't know. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I read all the wrong conclusions into totally innocent behavior. Maybe—"

"Maybe nothing. You were right. You just have a case of the jitters. It'll pass. I promise. Be strong. Just be strong for a little while and it'll pass."

"I don't know, Janine. I'm losing it. I'm really losing it."

"That child was a monster, Hilary. David Wilmer was a monster. Every one of us saw the signs. All the newspapers and magazines confirmed our suspicions, remember?"

"But those newspapers were tabloids, not the Washington Post or New York Times."

"It was in black and white, Hilary: craves attention, unaffected by punishment, cruelty to animals, setting fires, vivid fantasies. David displayed all those deviations."

"I don't know, Janine, thinking about it now, I don't think any of us ever saw David harm an animal."

"He was scared to death of animals; it's the same damn thing. It's not natural for a little boy. Remember when Nicole's collie tried to play with David?"

"Lamby knocked David down."

"The dog was just playing, for Christ's sake. Boys are supposed to love dogs. David hated animals, you could tell. He would have hurt one if he'd gotten the chance."

"How about setting fires? We were never entirely sure he caused the Lovett's fire. The firemen said faulty wiring."

"You saw the look on that kid's face as the Lovett house went up. Total fascination. Enchantment. He was a firebug, all right. Funny how he was right there to witness the fire."

"We were all there, Janine."

"Hilary, listen. How would you have felt if six or seven years down the road they found your precious little Sarah dumped out in the woods somewhere, raped and mutilated? Torn to pieces?"

"Oh, God, Janine. Don't say that. Don't breathe it."

"That might have happened, Hilary. We heard what can happen with children like David on all the talk shows. He was a killer in the making. We had to do it."

"Jesus, I can still hear David screaming. I can't get it out of my head."

"Get hold of yourself, Hilary. We're all having a hard time with this. Don't forget, we each took an equal hand in it. Samantha poured the gas, Nicole lured David into the shed, I locked the door, and you threw the lit cigarette in through the window. You started the fire, Hilary. You're the one who actually killed David Wilmer. You. There's a death penalty in this state for murder. You'd be the one to die, Hilary. Just you. The rest of us would probably get off with probation. And think of your family. The publicity would ruin their lives forever. They'd all despise you if they found out."

"Oh, God. What am I going to do?"

"You're going to quit blubbering and pull yourself together, that's what. It's a bit late for tears."

"Janine, I've got to go. I can't talk anymore."

"Please don't do anything stupid, Hilary. For your kids' sake. For Harold. Think about your parents. This would kill them."

"I'm going now, Janine. I can't live with this anymore."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to take a little trip to the stars. I'm going to stop this pain once and for all."

"Hilary, calm down. Take some Valium. Have a Seconal."

"That's just what I intend to do."

(disconnect)

▼

(connect)

"Nicole? Janine."

"What's the matter?"

"It's Hilary. She's falling apart. Having second thoughts, a guilt attack."

"Oh, no."

"Don't get excited yet. I think she's planning to commit suicide. I just talked to her a minute ago, and I swear I think she's planning to overdose on pills."

"What should we do? Should we call an ambulance?"

Pause. "I don't think so, Nicole. I think we ought to let her go ahead and do it."

"What?"

"Listen to me. Samantha we can handle. She's just a little nervous. She'll be okay. But Hilary... I think she'd eventually go to the police."

"God."

"Yes. I think we should just bide our time for now. Lay low. Stay cool."

"What if she changes her mind and doesn't take the pills?"

"We'll keep an eye on her house. If either one of us sees her leaving, we'll intercept her. If you see her first, bring her to my house. If I see her first, I'll bring her to yours."

"What then?"

"We'll discuss that when we need to."

Sigh. "Janine, this is getting sticky. I didn't think it would get so complicated."

"Relax, Nicole. Nothing's happened yet. Probably nothing will. Don't worry. Best friends like us, we can handle anything."

"Yeah, you're right. We can handle Samantha and Hilary. We're an invincible duo." Laugh.

"Best friends to the end. And Nicole?"

"What, hon?"

"Keep your eye on that Frazier kid down the street at 510. He seems a little odd."

"Will do. Talk to you later."

"Bye bye."

"Bye."

(disconnect)