I Married a Monster

by Rachel Parsons

Part 1 appears
in this issue.

conclusion

She reached over and patted his knee. “Just kidding.”

“Please, don’t touch me. I may be able to stand it, um, soon, but right now I won’t be responsible for my bowels if you do.”

“Okay, George. I know I shouldn’t push it. I’m just grateful you haven’t rejected me like my last two husbands.”

“I told you I wasn’t like them.”

“All men are like them. That’s what it seems like. You don’t know what kind of hell I’ve been through.”

“That’s because you haven’t opened up to me.”

She teasingly pulled the cinch off the robe, and revealed a dark, tentacled thing running through her duodenum.

“Uh, that’s not what I meant.”

“I know, George. I’m being awful, but you were like star-sent, and the fact you aren’t launching yourself through the window and running away screaming is, is... Well, I make jokes and tease in order to keep away the anxiety that you’re too good to be true.”

“Trish, I’m with you a hundred percent. Even when the Air Force crashes down our door, I’ll stand by you.”

“Why should the Air Force crash down our door? Oh, right.”

“Right”

Their eyes, or rather, their ocular organs, met, and George swore that the bob and weave of hers were the equivalent of the twinkle that he had come to anticipate with happiness over the last six months.

“What I want to know is: Why now?”

“Why now?”

“Yes, why reveal yourself to me now.”

“Why I’m such a monster now, you mean?” He nodded. “You come home drunk and you wonder that?” He looked hurt. “No, I’m being serious. I create the illusion of the female you want me to be by looking into your mind and projecting an image based on it. But tonight, your mind was like a dense, swirling, shapeless fog. I’m surprised I didn’t come off as a dark, shapeless thing.”

That would have been better, he thought, but kept the idea to himself. And then panicked when he realized the implications of her statement. “You’re telepathic.”

“Not really. I can’t read all your thoughts, but I do know all about Heather and her perky little ass.” She said “ass” in a snotty tone. “I can get on all fours and wear a dog collar too if that’s what you really want.” She sniffed.

Coughing to hide his gag reflex at the thought of the thing on the couch crawling around on his floor naked except for a dog collar, he said, “I’m married to you Trish, but I’m only human. Can you forgive me?”

“I suppose.” The stalks turned upward to the ceiling. Then the hideous grin, like that of a thousand soul-eating devils, was followed by the bob-and-weave. “Of course, I forgive you. Especially, as you’ve seen me at my worst.” There was a pause. “You really think I’m beautiful?”

“Look into my mind, and see the answer.”

“Your mind is reeling at the horror. I don’t need to be a telepath to tell that.” She reached over and wiped a speck of vomit from his jaw.

His Adam’s apple bulged out. “Well, at a visceral level, yes. You make me want to puke right now.”

“George, you say the nicest things.” She reached her tendrils out again. He flinched. He knew he was walking on treacherous grounds here.

“What I mean, though, is although that is my reaction, I realize it’s like some people’s reactions to spiders, bugs, or snakes.”

Her right hoof was crossed over her left leg and it was tapping the air in agitation. “But those creatures are beautiful in their own right. And you’re symmetrical.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“But symmetry is the mathematical basis of all beauty. So in time, I’ll get over my revulsion, and learn to appreciate the finer things about your, um, appearance. Like why exactly does your hair resemble snakes?”

“They’re like a radiator. They dissipate excess body heat into the air.”

He made an accepting gesture. “Well, there you are. Form follows function.”

“And beauty is in the eye of the beholder?” She looked at him askance. At least he thought that was what she was doing with her stalks.

He started to respond when there was a knock at the door.

He looked at her wildly.

“Don’t worry; they’ll see me as a hottie.”

He nodded, not at all sure he wanted other people to see his wife as a hottie. He looked through the peephole. He changed his mind. He decided that he wanted these men to treat his wife as a hottie.

They were in black suits, black ties, and, even though it was past midnight, wore black sunglasses. Even their socks and shoes were black. One bore a striking resembles to Will Smith; the other to Tommy Lee Jones.

George opened the door, as the taller, older one flashed his badge. “I’m special agent Smith; this is my partner, Special Agent Jones.”

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” George said.

“Why does everyone say that?” Agent Jones complained.

“May we come in?”

“Do you have a warrant?” George asked.

“It’s okay, honey,” came a Taser-like whistle that made him feel like his scalp was being peeled.

“I guess it’s okay,” George said, stepping aside.

Smith and Jones came in and stopped in mid-stride. Little drops of drool came down from Smith’s mouth as Jones developed an incredibly serious expression and sank to his knees.

George watched fascinated as Trish slithered toward them, leaving the robe on the couch. He willed himself to watch this animated vessel of swirling, nameless things do an exotic dance at the two government agents. He only wished he could still see Trish as the agents obviously saw her.

Jones recovered first. He had whipped out a cell phone and was speaking into it. “It’s worse that we feared; we need backup.”

George snatched the phone out of the agent’s hands and stomped on it. Then surprising himself, he kicked Jones in the head as Trish put her tendrils on Smith’s face.

“You’re not sucking the salt out of him are you?”

She gave George a Triffid version of a “Don’t be an idiot” glance and knocked Smith down. Then the fight went out of her. “What are we going to do now, George? From the moment I crashed here, I was hoping this day would never come. But your government has obviously found out about me.”

“Well, I was going to tell you this, Trish, but I got distracted. The reason that I was out late and drunk? The government has found out about me too.”

“George, what do you mean?” She sounded scared.

“I’ve built our life on a pyramid scheme, darling. We have this lovely house, our car, our swimming pool, our vacation home in the Poconos by defrauding investors into giving me money. In turn I give them part of the money other people give me, to keep them happy for a while, and then give those people money from still others, and so on.”

“But that would only work as long as the base of the pyramid keeps growing, and it would have to stop once you ran out of new people.”

“That’s why it’s called a pyramid scheme.”

“On my world, you would never do something like that; we would sentence you to the petroleum pits.”

“Well, we don’t quite do that, but yeah, it’s bad, especially when you do it to widows and orphans.”

“And you do it to widows and orphans?”

George nodded.

“George, that makes you a monster.”

“Yeah, well, I guess it’s what makes us the perfect couple.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you might leave me, if you knew how hideous a person I am.”

“George, I will never leave you. You’re stuck with me.” She embraced him, and this time, he didn’t flinch.

They were able to pack and make their way to Central America, but they barely were out the back door in time as the SEC agents burst in the front and nearly tripped over the men in black.

Although they are still running, George and Trish are living happily ever after.

to Challenge 369...