So now Larry Bradford sat in his living room. Listening to a pointless argument that he could barely understand through the haze of alcohol. He didn’t know what it was about and he didn’t much care either, as long as the bottle wasn’t empty.
The only thing that was on his mind, whenever his mind was available, was the bloodstained face of Jane Elring. That face that had been impossible to read, with its deep red stare and bloody lips. Those lips had told her she didn’t hate him. What did that even mean? What did that even matter?
Yet those words that had carried a strange forgiveness plagued his mind the most. There was nothing for her to forgive, Larry thought, because she had won. She had beaten him with her dirty tricks and left him for dead.
All Larry ever wanted to do was forget. So he emptied the bottle before calling out to Becky. She had to bring him a new one.
(June 29, 2020)
Summer hit the Netherlands in full force. Several temperature records had already been broken in what was titled the hottest June since 1919.
Dutch summers were very humid and, together with the tremendous heat, caused many a casualty. The elderly, babies, and heart patients were at a very high risk.
Jane Elring wasn’t bothered by the heat. She sat on the balcony of her small apartment in Amsterdam and closed her eyes as she listened to the hustle and bustle from the streets below her. From where she was sitting she had a clear view over many of the canals that ran as lifelines through the old city.
Life was peaceful for Jane now. Away from the prying eyes of her handlers, and the impossible demands of Dr. Greer, she had learned what peace truly meant. It was a luxury, truly a luxury, Jane thought to herself.
Even now her mind was filled with the countless thoughts and feelings that ran through the heads of Amsterdam’s inhabitants, but they were fleeting and she gave them no attention. There was no reason to listen to them, because she wasn’t solving an obscure crime or hunting for a demon.
The gentle breeze that reached her cheeks pulled a smile from her thin lips. This was what it meant to truly smile. It wasn’t rehearsed in front of the mirror; it was simply an honest expression of her emotions. Jane was allowed to have those now without being scrutinized for them.
The door opening behind her caught Jane’s attention. She turned around and saw Caleb entering the apartment. His arm still hadn’t healed completely and probably never would, but he was losing weight and the man boobs he hated were almost completely gone.
Caleb stepped onto the balcony as he said, “I got some lunch. You want to eat outside?”
Jane nodded. “In a little while. Join me?”
Caleb took the chair next to her and sat down. He studied her appearance as he said, “You’re getting a tan, Jane.”
“Right? Do you think I’m out in the sun too much?”
“Nah. Just use sunscreen.”
Jane pointed to the small white bottle on the table between them. “Way ahead of you!”
Silence overtook them and together they sat in the gentle breeze. A lot had happened.
One of Caleb’s old army buddies had flown them out of the country to Mexico. From there they had gone by ship until they finally reached Europe.
Another of Caleb’s friends had married a woman from the Netherlands and owned property all over the small country. Jane and Caleb currently rented the place from him.
Yet for all their good fortune, there was something that still bothered Jane. She thought about that now, as they sat together on their small balcony.
“Caleb?”
“Yeah?”
“Back in Brettville… you never let me help you. You know… with John C. Reilly. I know that stuff is still in your head. It doesn’t have to be like that. I can take that burden from you.”
Caleb turned to look at her and she already knew what he was going to say. She let him say it anyway.
“Thanks, but no. That part of my life is mine. It is a private defeat and I will carry the load.”
“Why, Caleb? There is no shame in—”
“It’s not about shame. It’s about responsibility. My choices, my duties. I did things, and saw things, and allowed things that I shouldn’t have. If I had been stronger back then I could have done things differently. I could have saved the day, been a hero. But that’s not how it went and I have to accept that.
“I know that you can look inside my head, and that’s alright. You can’t help it, anyway. But that part is mine, and mine alone. It doesn’t belong to you. Please don’t ask me about it again.”
Jane studied Caleb’s face to look for an opening, no matter how small, to make him change his mind. She sensed his pain, even though his words were very brave, and wanted to take it from him. No strings attached, just because she considered him her friend. Her very first friend.
But no such opening existed and Jane knew it. So she leaned back into her chair, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the busy sounds of beautiful Amsterdam.
“You got it, Caleb. I won’t ask again and I’ll take it with me to my grave.”
That grave, she hoped, was very far from her still. For the very first time, her life had beauty and warmth in it and she didn’t want to lose it. Maybe, Jane hoped, she could one day find some love, too.
The other reason that Jane wanted, very desperately, to live longer was the demon that lived in a room deep inside her head. The lock was solid and he would never be able to get out. Until she died, and then the terrible entity that only wanted to consume and be entertained would again roam the earth.
Worries for another day, Jane decided as the sun broke through the clouds and caressed her face. A face that she didn’t hate as much as she used to.
Justifications
Thank you for reading my story.
A Monster Escapes has been in the back of my mind for several years, in various shapes and degrees. When I finally set out to write it, my main focus was on telling a story about people first and about events second. I wanted readers to think and reflect and, maybe, ask questions they otherwise would have never asked.
A good chunk of my (generous) proofreaders did come back to me, all asking the same question. Who was the good guy in this story?
A Monster Escapes isn’t about good versus evil. Not really. It’s a story about people and people come in very complex packages. Good and bad mix together to form various shades of gray, and are governed always by our motivations and beliefs.
Take for example Agent Bradford, a man that many readers seem to dislike. His beliefs about women are somewhat archaic and he defends and rationalizes them almost violently. Yet, within the context of his belief system, Agent Bradford is a hundred percent conscientious. He does exactly what he believes is right and, even if we don’t agree about what right and wrong is, as a writer I came to admire his character.
In contrast stands the peculiar Jane Elring, who openly admits that she has to do things that she isn’t necessarily proud of. She cheats, lies, manipulates and even kills to secure her freedom. To balance this behavior, she decides, she will try to take down the demon that plagues Brettville. Good? Bad? Or just a young woman dealt an unfortunate hand, trying to make a future for herself?
Most people have no trouble identifying the bad guy of the story. Baal is an ancient name that has carried different meanings throughout the ages. In my story he is the demon that only wishes to consume and be entertained. This desire is a common sickness of our modern times and it lives in all of us. I believe that I may have discredited the real Baal, in whichever capacity he exists, by making him so very human. I apologize.
Brettville is, of course, a fictional town. Its layout however has been based on a small city in Alabama. Those who know how to look may even be able to find it, as I have left a clue here and there.