Page 20 of Creature
One luxury among many, of course. He alsohad comfortable surroundings, nice clothing over a clean body, andthe joy of seeing a great many wonders he’d only imagined. And hehad Harry, who’d never once hurt him or made him feel like anythingless than a man.
Ah, but John wasnota man. When hefinished the book and sat in the comforting puddle of lamplight, heagain faced some painful truths and their correspondingquestions.
What use did Harry intend to make of him?What would happen to John once Harry was done? Those were thepractical questions. But more fundamentally, he wondered what itmeant to be a monster. When he wore clothes, read books, conductedconversations, was he only fooling himself? Did he actually possesshuman qualities? What if he, like Frankenstein’s monster, turnedmurderous in the end?
And what did hewant? What driving forcekept him animate in a lifeless body? He thought he might know theanswers to those questions, but the answers were far toouncomfortable to face. Perhaps that made him a coward.
Lost in contemplation, he startled when thefront door opened. A moment later, Harry came stumbling into theroom with his coat poorly buttoned, his hat askew, and a carrierwith six brown bottles grasped in one hand. His cheeks lookedruddier than usual; his eyes, usually soft and warm, appeared dulland flat. “You’re still here,” he said.
“You told me tostay.”
“Yeah.”
Harry left the room for a few minutes,although John could hear him rummaging in kitchen drawers. When hereturned, he’d shed the coat and hat, and he held one of the brownbottles. He collapsed heavily onto the couch before taking a longdraw. “Blah,” he said, face twisted in disgust. “The Irish coffeewas better.” But he drank more anyway.
After some time passed, Harry sighed.“What’d you do tonight?”
“I read one of the booksyou gave me. Harry, was there really a war with theJapanese?”
“Yeah. Germans too. MyUncle Jimmy died in it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. I liked him.” Hesniffed. “You don’t remember that war?”
“I know of… the Great War.That was against the Germans, I think.”
“That was over forty yearsago. World War Two ended eight years ago. Now we’re fighting inKorea instead.”
John shook his head in confusion. There wasso much he didn’t understand. During the silence, Harry drained hisbottle. He left the room and returned to the couch with a fullone.
“I’ll prob’ly be sick inthe morning,” he said thoughtfully. “I used to think thewordhangoverwaskind of scary. Made me think of a corpse hanging from a noose.” Heglanced quickly at John and then away.
“Is there anything I cando to help you?”
“No.”
Maybe if John were a real person, he’d knowwhat to do. He understood that something distressed Harry but hadno idea what, or what actions he should take. It was possible thatJohn himself was the cause of Harry’s misery. Surely it wasrepugnant to spend time so close to a monster. John worried aboutHarry—and worried about himself as well. Harry had brought him somuch freedom and happiness. What would become of John if Harryabandoned him?
Harry held his half-empty bottle aloft,peering into the liquid depths. “Do you s’pose there’s demons inthere?”
“Demons?”
“Townsend said that onedemon keeps his ex-agent from going wild, so I guess maybe somedemons ain’t so bad. Unless Townsend lied.”
Unable to make sense of this, John simplylistened.
After taking another swig, Harry wedged thebottle between his thighs and stared down at it. “Mama used to tellus that Daddy was a good man. She said the Devil got into himduring the Depression, when Daddy lost his job at the feed storeand we were poor as dirt. When he— Those things he did, thoseweren’t really him, she told us. They were the Devil’s work. If weall prayed real hard, Jesus would chase the Devil away.” He lookedat John. “We went to church every Sunday and said our prayers everynight. But Jesus never did nothing.”
Those things hedid. John’s otherwise faulty mind easilysupplied him with possibilities about what those things might havebeen. His memories, it seemed, included a catalogue of cruelactions a man might visit upon his family.
“I never drank beforetonight,” Harry said. “I didn’t want to swallow the Devil. Butmaybe now I have.”
John moved the Hawaii book from his lap tothe little table beside him and slowly pushed himself to his feet.His legs felt unsteady, and although it required tremendous effortto walk the few steps to the couch, he made it without falling.After kneeling on the floor near Harry’s legs, John looked steadilyinto his eyes. “I don’t think there’s anything evil about you.”
Harry shook his head. “You don’t know that.I’m…. Everyone’s always said I’m worthless, but they ain’t exactlyright. I could do a whole lot of bad if I wanted to. Maybe if Ikeep drinking, I’ll want to.”
“Then don’tdrink.”
