Savage Saints (Monsters of Saint Mark's)

“Ooooooh,” they say again. But this time it’s a negative ‘ooooooh.’

“Pie opened her palm and flung him into the ether with her magic moths!”

“Ahhhhh,” they say, happy now.

“And I breathed fire!”

They clap.

“Oh! We missed something. What did he say?”

None of the monsters know because we were too busy oooohing and aaaahing.

“Shh,” I hush them. “Listen.”

And that’s what we do. We all sit down on various tombs and stone walls that surround the back patio, and we listen as Big Jim and the sheriff of Granite Springs entertain us with a story about monsters that live in the hills above the town.

“Big Jim,” Russ Roth says, “I know you’ve heard stories of the squonk.”

“Of course,” Big Jim replies. “Everyone in PA knows about the squonk. They are gruesome, and gross, and covered with warts and blemishes so terrifying, they weep over their own ugliness!”

“Ahhh!” us monsters say. How sad to be an ugly squonk!

“But there is another creature up there, Big Jim. A new one!”

“Something new?” Big Jim laughs. “I doubt that, Sheriff. I’ve seen it all around these parts.”

“It’s like a squonk. Terrible and ugly. Fire-breathing, even.”

“What?” Jim exclaims. “You’re joking with me now.”

“No, sir. It’s a squonk all right. Gruesome enough to turn you to stone like a medusa! But it’s got horns and hooves and it’s called the Buckhead Squonk!”

“Oooooh,” we all say again, my fellow monsters chattering about what this new monster could be.

I ponder this as well, still listening to Russ Roth and Big Jim. And I’m a little bit embarrassed to say that it takes me several minutes of this storytelling to realize… they are talking about us.

“I’m leading an expedition up there this weekend,” Russ says.

“No!” Big Jim replies.

“Hell yes, I am. I’ve rounded up a posse, we’re making our final plans tomorrow night, and in a couple of days we’re gonna get to the bottom of these monsters, once and for all.”

“Oh, shit,” I mutter.

Pell is not going to like this. Not one bit.

But… he can’t freak out if he doesn’t know about it.

I shall make sure he does not know about it.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – PIE

When I open my eyes the next morning, Pell is standing at the window.

I watch him for a few moments. He’s naked, of course. So it’s a nice view. His upper body is all muscle and in the slanted morning light the shadows cut hills and valleys across his upper arms and shoulders.

He raises his hands above his head, stretching as he yawns, then drops them and sighs.