Page 33 of Creature
Despite himself, he fell asleep. And then itwas morning.
They didn’t go anywhere that final day. Theydidn’t make love, but they spent almost all their hours closetogether on the couch. John read, and Harry mostly watched him,memorized him.
Night fell too soon.
Harry changed from jeans into trousers. Thenhe looked at John. “You need to leave, and—”
“No.” John’s gaze waseven. “Don’t waste time arguing the impossible.”
Although Harry clenched his jaw, he obeyedand then put on his coat.
John liked riding in the passenger seat ofthe car. The rain had returned, and the windshield wipers played asong as they swished back and forth. Raindrops on the windows,refracting the streetlights, looked like jewels. But it wasn’t along journey, and soon Harry pulled to a stop in front of a grandhouse. He turned off the engine but didn’t get out right away. Hishands clenched the steering wheel hard enough to make the plasticcreak.
John set a hand on hisknee. “Did you ever read the book you gave me?Frankenstein?”
“Just part. It’s…. I’m notgood at reading.”
“But you know the monsterwent on a rampage.”
Harry nodded. “Look, if you want to run orhurt someone or—”
“I don’t. Listen to me.This is important. Do you knowwhyhe became violent?”
“Not really.”
“The monsterwanted—needed—friendship. Companionship. Love. But he realized he’d neverhave those things because even his creator viewed him with hatredand disgust. And Harry, the author was exactly right aboutthat.”
“You’re not disgusting,”Harry protested.
“Not now. Because you werekind to me from the very beginning. I crave the same things asFrankenstein’s monster, but unlike that poor creature, I receivedthem. From you. Don’t you see? That’s why I’ve grown sostrong—because you’ve given me what I needed to survive. Toflourish.” John’s voice sounded urgent, but he wassmiling.
“I did that?”
“Yes. And that’s whywhatever happens to me next doesn’t matter. You’ve saved me fromthat monster’s fate and made me a real person. Thank you,Harry.”
John kissed him, right there in the car. IfHarry shed a few tears, neither of them mentioned it, and as theygot out of the car, the rain washed away any bit of evidence.
The walk to the front door took forever andyet was too short. Harry’s mind churned helplessly. If he weresmarter, he’d surely find a way out of this mess, but nothing cameto him. John stayed close, his thoughts opaque but his stridesteady; in fact, he led the way. But when they reached the house,he stationed himself slightly behind Harry and subserviently bowedhis head.
Harry swore at himself, took a deep breath,and rang the bell.
Swan answered the door, which took Harry bysurprise. He expected that a place this swanky would have aservant. After a quick look at Harry, Swan turned his sharpattention to John, who didn’t look up.
“Who’s this?” Swandemanded.
“Myinheritance.”
Swan’s eyes widened. “But it looks so—” Heshook his head. “Come in, come in.” He held the door as theyentered, looking behind them as if to make sure nobodyfollowed.
Other than in the movies, Harry had neverseen such a fancy house. He’d certainly never been in one. Theywalked through the vestibule on marble floors, past landscapepaintings in gilded frames. Despite a coatrack, Swan didn’t offerto take their coats or Harry’s hat. Instead he led them through avast room with several long low couches, wall-to-wall carpeting,heavy draperies, and a crystal chandelier. All it lacked were filmstars standing around with cocktails and cigarettes, chattingwittily. From there they went down a short hall into a kitchenbigger than any of the restaurants where Harry had occasionallyworked. Everything gleamed and sparkled as if brand-new, and hewondered if Swan ever cooked. Maybe he ate all his meals out.
At the far end of the kitchen, they reacheda door. Swan pulled a key from his pocket, unlocked and opened thedoor, and gestured downstairs. Harry almost balked—he didn’t likethe idea of descending into unknown darkness—but John was closebehind him, silently urging him on. When they were all in thestairwell, Swan pulled the door closed. Only a single bare bulb litthe way, hanging from a cord overhead. It seemed to Harry that Swancould have afforded a better light fixture.
Two closed doors were at the bottom of thestairs. One had a neglected air, scuffed and somewhat battered.Swan pushed past Harry to unlock the other, which swung opensmoothly.
Fluorescent lights flickered on overhead,illuminating an office that contained an enormous desk covered inbooks and papers. Stepping inside, they saw bookshelves and filingcabinets along the cream-painted walls, and several small tablesheld ashtrays and more books. Although a few Oriental rugs layscattered over the linoleum floor, there was nothing particularlyelegant or grand about the space, which was clearly well used.
Swan spoke for the first time sinceadmitting them into the house. “All right. Let me see what you’vebrought.”
