Chapter Seven

Whit

Had it not been leaning down to her level, the monster would have been nearly Rezul’s height. It was broader in the shoulders than the tall alien, and thicker in the limbs. Shaggy white fur covered its blue skin from stiff ears to tufted elbows to clawed feet. Its fangs were long and yellow over its black lips, and its jaw was square. Claws half as long as Als’ littlest finger sprouted from each toe and finger. Two eyes, black slits among the folds of eyelids, stared at Als. The girl, so frightened she could not breathe, gaped back.

Outside, Als heard dried leaves scraping across the roof like armies of fingernails. Barely any sun was left to filter through the dirty skylights. It would soon be night and still, neither moved.

No monster, no matter how long and sharp its teeth, or how huge and hulking its stature, or how terrible its breath, is ever so awful as the thought of the monster. SOMETHING waiting around the next corner is much scarier than something standing right in front of you. It was for this reason that Als had fought to risk certain, horrible death with the vampire bats rather than to face the unknown terror of the attic.

So, although her knees still shook, Als was not as scared as she had thought she would be. The monster stared at her, almost as if it were waiting for something. Als tried to think of what it might want. If she were a scary monster, locked in the top of a big spooky house by a bunch of bloodthirsty vampire bats, what would she want?

The answer was obvious as elephant sneaking across a pool table.

Careful not to make any sudden movements that might be interpreted as hostile, Als held out the remaining half of her dark of chocolate. The monster considered the gift for a moment and then, with great politeness, reached forward and broke off a tiny piece. It sniffed the bit of chocolate, made a terrible grimace, and offered it back to Als.

“You don’t want it?” She asked, jumping at the sound of her own voice. She took back the piece of chocolate.

The monster shook its head.

“You. . . don’t like chocolate?”

Again, the monster shook its head, and now it looked sad.

“Oh,” said Als. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anything else to give you. Do you want to,” she gulped,” eat me?”

The monster gave Als’ hair a little pat and shook its head a third time. Well, that was such a huge relief that enormous tears sprung up in Als’ eyes.

“Oh good!” The girl exclaimed, sniffling as she scrubbed at her eyes. “I was so scared that you were going to GET me!” The monster rested a comforting, hairy hand on her shoulder. Als managed a little smile. “Thank you,” she whispered and then, in a sudden rush of affection for her newly found figment, she threw her arms around his furry middle (or what she could reach of it.)

The monster, for his part, seemed a little surprised to be so suddenly and so enthusiastically embraced, (not many people hug monsters), but he patted Als’ back.

“My name is, well, it’s Alysse, but everybody calls me Als,” she said, craning her head back to look at him. The monster mulled the name over and then nodded in a satisfied manner. “What’s your name?” He hesitated, and then shrugged. “You don’t have a name?”

The monster nodded and tugged on her arm. Als followed him across the attic, clambering over boxes with his help, until they came to a big chest at the far side of the attic. The monster blew on the dusty lid to reveal large golden letters. Once, they had spelled “WHITE” but now only spelled “WHIT.” The monster pointed at them.

“‘Whit’?” said Als, and Whit nodded. The girl smiled. “I’m very happy to meet you, Whit.” It was not a scary name, and Als felt relieved. The tall monster made a little bow.

Als decided that she most definitely was entitled to a few bratwursts after her terrible ordeal. The thought reminded her that, while she had found a new friend and he did not want to eat her, she was still trapped in the dark spooky attic of a dark spooky house, to say nothing of all the vampire bats. She looked up from her worrying as a large hand settled on her shoulder.

Whit nodded once at her, quite firmly, as if to say “it will be alright.” Als thought that the vampire bats must be very frightened of him if they went to all the trouble of keeping him locked up. That only left the problem of being trapped.

“Is there a way out?”

Whit pointed to the door.

“That’s the only way? But it’s locked.” Als bit her lip. “Can’t we climb out the skylights?”

He shook his head.

“Could you break down the door?”

Whit indicated that he could not. They would have to wait for someone to let them out.

Als’ stomach sank. Would they be trapped forever? She did not think the bats would open the door, (unless they were going to shove another girl in), but who else was there? She had not told her parents where she was going, or even that she was going, and they would certainly look in outer Mongolia before they looked here. Who would think of looking-

Whit cocked his head to one side, listening with intense concentration. Als strained to hear, and then there was the distinct sound of floorboards creaking below them. She scrambled for the door, vaulting gazelle like over obstacles, and pressed her ear against it. Whit joined her and they waited as the hum of distant talking slowly dissolved into coherent and familiar voices.

“-lost the stick,” the first voice was saying,” but at least she still has the chocolate, or put it to its proper use.”

“Such a strange little creature,” a second voice replied.

“Yes. Very strange.”

“Particularly the name. I have often wondered about it.”

“I’ve never asked; it’s probably a sensitive subject. I mean, if I were named ‘Als’, I wouldn’t answer to it.”

“Where did she get it?”

The first voice paused for a moment. “I think it stands for something.”

“Like what?”

“I’m not certain.”

“Perhaps ‘Amalgarized Long Snake?’”

“No.”

“‘A Large Squash?’”

“No,” said the first voice again, though it sounded thoughtful. “Als is not really that big, and she’s not yellow. Maybe it means ‘Aren’t Lungfish Sweet?’”

“But there’s no question mark at the end,” the second voice pointed out. “‘Ants Love Spaghetti’?”

“‘Antarctica Low Snow’”

“‘Almond Lump Souffle?’”

“‘Absolutely Ludicrous Story’?”

“‘Angel Laurel Sanctimonium’!”

“‘Abnormally Loud Sushi’?”

There was a pause, during which Als frowned at the attic door and Whit waited patiently. Then Marshal, who was the second voice, said as carefully as one might place a bull in a china shop: “That could be it. Als can be quite loud. Louder, at least, than any dead fish I’ve ever heard.”

“You know,” Rezul said, his was the first voice,” it certainly explains a lot, doesn’t it?”

“Does not,” Als muttered, but Whit was nodding in agreement. Choosing to ignore him, Als banged on the door. “Rezul!! Marshal!! We’re up here!!”

“Did you hear that?” They heard Marshal inquire. “It sounded like Als!”

“Perhaps,” said Rezul,” but these vampire bats can be very tricky. We must make certain it is not an imposter. Tell me, strange voice: what is Als’ most favorite element on the periodic table?”

Als knew what the periodic table was, maybe, but she had never considered which was her favorite element. She frowned in thought. What were some elements? Mostly ingredients in vitamins and things that ended in “ium”, but which one to pick? What was the most intelligent choice?

“Einstein. . . ium?”

“Is that it?” Marshal whispered loudly.

“If she says so,” Rezul muttered. “Personally, I’d always figured her for a Rutherfordium girl. Alright, Als, we’ll get you out.”

Whit pulled Als back from the door, and just in time, as it exploded in a shower of metal splinters and sawdust.

“We must hurry,” Rezul began, waving aside the cloud of dust. “The noise will surely attract the-” He stopped. Marshal peered around him and together they stared at Whit.

“Als,” said Rezul, a huge fake smile suddenly plastered across his face,” don’t look now-”

“-and try not to panic,” added Marshal.

“-but there’s a huge, horrible monster right behind you.”

Whit glanced over his shoulder, but Als just rolled her eyes. “I know. His name is Whit, and he’s very nice. To me,” she added as an afterthought.

Marshal sighed with relief and Rezul said, “Oh,” as if girls made friends with huge, horrible monsters every day. “Well then,” the alien said, clapping his hands together,” we’d best make our escape before those bats decide to come investigate that explosion.” He cocked his head to one side abruptly and listened. “Actually, I think it may be too late for that.”

Als was suddenly aware of the distant sound, quickly growing not-distant, of the flapping of wings, the blood-thirsty squeaks of little throats, and the gnashing of sharp white teeth. She gulped. “I still have some chocolate left.”

“Vampire bats are too evil to like chocolate,” Marshal said darkly. He drew himself up and bobbed a deep worm-bow to Als. “We will try to buy you enough time to escape by sacrificing ourselves.”

Before Als could protest that she would never leave them to perish, Whit took control of the situation. He pushed the girl over to Marshal, indicating that the large worm was to watch her, and motioned Rezul to watch his back. Then he advanced past the trio and down the attic stairs to face the tidal wave of winged death surging up the hallway.

What followed was violent and painful, at least, for the vampire bats. Rezul hastily clamped a hand over Als’ innocent eyes, but she heard enough screeches, shrieks, and wonderfully descriptive splats, to not be surprise at their unmolested escape from the mansion.

When her eyes were finally uncovered, Als found that they had left the bats and their house behind. It was night now in the forest, but the moon shone bright and full above. Across the clearing, an air of smugness hung around Whit as he picked black bits of bat fluff out of his fur. Marshal watched him with unconcealed adoration, and Rezul tapped his mouth speculatively.

“I think,” he said,” that we ought to keep him.”

“Yes!” Exclaimed Als, jumping forward to grab one of Whit’s arms with both her hands. “Oh yes! Won’t you please stay?”

Looking very pleased, Whit nodded and allowed a very excited Als to squeeze him.

“Wonderful,” Marshal enthused,” we must celebrate!” And seemingly from thin air, he produced a package of oblong. “I brought the bratwursts.”

In very short order, all four were seated around a roaring fire, enjoying a hot meal of delicious sausages.

“Mm, tasty,” Rezul said, licking his claws as he finished his third. “This is the life. I can think of nothing better than fire, friends, and bratwursts after a narrow escape from death.”

“I didn’t used to like camping,” Als admitted, setting down her roasting stick and settling back against Marshal’s bulk,” but I like this.”

“But something is missing,” Marshal murmured, and then perked up. “Oh, I know! Rezul, you must tell us a scary story!”

“Yes!” Rezul exclaimed. “That’s what’s missing!”

“Um,” Als shifted uncomfortably,” I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. I don’t do so well with scary stories.”

“Oh, come now,” chided Rezul. “You’ve been very brave today, and we’ll be right here with you, so you don’t have to be so afraid.”

“Well,” said Als.

“Plleeeaasseee,” implored Marshal and Whit nodded.

“Oh, alright,” said Als, and hugged her knees to her chest.

“Hurrah!” Marshal bobbed gleefully. “Tell the really scary one, Rezul.”

The alien nodded. He moved closer to the fire and motioned them all nearer. “Once upon a time,” he said, in his deepest, most sinister voice,” there was a cellphone.”

“A cellphone?” Als interrupted. “What’s scary about a cellphone?”

“Shh,” Marshal whispered. “You must not interrupt the story-telling.”

“Once upon a time,” Rezul began again, shooting a disapproving frown at Als,” there was a cellphone, and his name was Bob.”

“Bob?”

“HIS NAME WAS BOB!” Rezul yelled. He took a deep, cleansing breath as the other two figments hushed Als. “His,” he continued in a calmer voice,” was Bob, and he was a good and faithful cellphone. Seldom did he drop calls and he never, absolutely never, was so rude as to interrupt important conversations with loud ringing.

“Bob took pride in his job, he had a good battery, and all seemed well with the world until, one day, he witnessed something so terrible, so barbaric, so awful that it would change him forever.

“Just like any other day, Bob accompanied his master to work. Usually, the cellphone rode in the man’s pocket. Today, on this fateful day, Bob had been placed in one of the cup-holders and so he saw everything that transpired.

“The master stopped at a gas station to fill up and went inside to pay. When he returned to the car, he held in his cruel grip a poor, innocent bottle of FineWater. In horror, helpless to do anything, Bob watched as his master twisted the head off the bottle, sucked out its insides, and callously discarded its fluidless carcass into the passenger side footwell.

“After witnessing such carnage, Bob was stunned. He sank into a deep depression, and his work suffered until he could not longer dial numbers. His pitiless master made no attempt to repair the traumatized cellphone, but yanked out his battery and tossed what was left of Bob into the back seat.

“But. . . they say, that when the moon is full and the cell signal is particularly strong, Bob still wanders the car, searching for a battery. . . Listen. Can you hear the ghostly jingle of the undead cellphone?”

For a long moment, no one around the camp fire spoke. Then, Marshal raised his head and announced that he wanted to get out of the dark, spooky forest. Right. Now.

As they emerged from the forest, Als was so busy reassuring a spooked Marshal and a wary Whit that the cellphone would not come after them, (“I mean,” she said, exasperated,” you guys don’t even have batteries, and even if Bob was the biggest cellphone ever, you could just squish him like that.”), and berating Rezul for telling such a dumb scary story after getting her so worked up, (“It was almost as dumb as meatloaf plotting world domination!”), that she barely noticed that the sun was still shining. Maybe, she just wasn’t very surprised after the day she’d had. Most likely, she was just happy to be safe, to have a new friend, and to be going home to a second helping of bratwursts.

Thanks for reading!