Heartbreak on Monster Island

MEMORANDUM OF UNDERSTANDING OF MAY THE ELEVENTH
Samuel Purvis, Mayor, Monster Island
Moses Q. Roth, Council President, Monster Island

From this day forward, let it be understood that Creature X, Megabeast, Dreadnought, and the Obelisk ("The Monsters") will make every possible effort to avoid causing undue injury, death, and expense to the citizens of Monster Island ("The People") by observing the following guidelines:

1. Odd-numbered streets and avenues will be kept clear for fifteen minutes at the beginning of each hour to allow the Monsters to traverse Monster Island at liberty. Therefore, the Monsters will have no need to crush, incinerate, or otherwise molest The People on their way through town.

2. The People will increase their contribution 15 per cent by volume, and renovate the feeding stations at Turtle Bay, Hunter's Point, and the James Street Pier to include such amenities as fresh running water and drummers drumming. Thus amply provided, the Monsters will have no need to supplement their diets with the bodies and/or souls of the People.

3. The People will refrain from engaging in retaliatory action, surveillance, quarantine, or any other form of antagonism toward the Monsters, and will in general maintain a benevolent and respectful attitude in their direction. There will be no conceivable reason for the Monsters to wish any harm, fright, or inconvenience on the People.

Otto lowered the newspaper. "I think this is a great direction for Purvis to take. No more legalistic mumbo-jumbo—just get right to the point, and keep it simple. Make it easy for the monsters, you know?"

Julia stirred her she-crab soup, tracing a spiral of ground pepper on its surface. "You know what I think."

"Come on," said Otto. "Don't be that way. Why can't you just be optimistic? What would it cost you?" He folded the paper and put it in his lap under the table.

"There's no reason to believe the monsters can read, or communicate at all. There are no negotiations. They're just trying to distract people from the fact that they're completely incapable of keeping us safe."

"You think Purvis and Roth could ever sustain a conspiracy together? One would sell out the other in a flash."

"I just wish this rain would go away." Julia grimaced at the steady dull drizzle beyond the lead-lined awning. The last row of tables had been removed from the terrace and a red velvet rope strung from stanchions to demarcate a safe distance from any wind-blown drops or splashes. On the bank building across the street, graffiti that had been fresh only days before was now barely visible, eaten away by the caustic downpour. A small lean-to of tarpaulin and rocks had been erected along the bank's foundation. A bare foot protruded from its opening, recoiling frantically from the searing lick of the deadly raindrops. "I read that it's never going to be as sunny as it used to be. It's not just a bad summer. That's another effect of the sulfur. You know—the sulfur that Purvis says the monsters produce. Not the sulfur from his plant—that's all been cleaned up now. He said so himself."

Ignoring the bait, Otto nodded at the waiter for another round, a pint of lager for him and a non-alcoholic beer in a bottle for his wife. "Careful now," she said. "We don't want to get the little man drunk." She patted her belly, which had been determined just that morning to be showing, not just fat looking from the outfit. Otto hesitated, wondering whether this was a crack about his second beer before the entrée, and then Julia smiled and he relaxed.

"I just want everything to be okay for our son," he said. "I hate the feeling that he's never going to know the life we used to have, before the monsters."

"Before the monsters—it's so hard to imagine. But he won't know what he's missing. This will just be normal life to him."

"Normal. Boy, people can adjust to anything, can't they? What a species." He returned her smile of a moment before, and they touched fingers briefly between the butter plate and the rolls.

A van pulled to a stop across the street and three men in Monster Squad uniforms jumped out of the back, the rain coursing down their rubber jumpsuits. They took up positions around the faded tarp, then jerked it aside to expose its occupant, a bearded man of indeterminate age. He was bundled thickly in rags, the top layer already beginning to unravel in patches as he cowered between the legs of the agents, accepting their truncheon blows in exchange for the meager shelter they provided.

Otto and Julia turned away at the same moment. "I've got a meeting tomorrow night," Julia said before raising her eyes."

"Jesus, Julia, you know how I feel about that. What if anything happens? What if there's a raid? There could be tear gas, pepper spray, flash grenades."

"You don't think the Monster Squad would do anything rough, do you? We're just a group of peace-loving citizens gathering to discuss current affairs, fully within our legal rights."

Otto looked around. People at neary tables, their attention drawn by the police action outside, gave the impression of eavesdropping. "Look," he said quietly, "I've kept my mouth shut about your ...," he hesitated, then hissed, "monster-loving buddies—no, let me finish. I know you've got a mind of your own, even if you don't always know how to use it. But things are different now. It's not just about you and me anymore. The boy's best interests have to come first."

"I couldn't agree more," said Julia. "And I won't have him—or her—grow up in a police state. Somebody's got to teach him to stand up for what's right."

Otto grabbed the newspaper and stabbed his finger at the front page, his voice rising in spite of himself. "Fourteen missing and presumed dead at the fish market. Six schoolchildren maimed on a field trip to the museum, for Christ's sake. The Metropolitan Hotel uninhabitable. What does it take for you people—for these people to realize it isn't just business as usual here?"

"Business as usual," Julia sneered, then caught herself. She sat back in her chair and took a breath. She reached across the table for a sip of her husband's beer. "I'm not so sure there even are any monsters," she said with exaggerated casualness.

"Monster denial. Well, it wouldn't surprise me," said Otto.

"It's better than ending up like Andrea Watson."

"Andrea Watson," Otto said, and they shuddered in unison. The memory was still fresh, the altar in flames on a barge just offshore, the sacrificial suicides screaming in ecstasy while their cultmates danced and sang along the waterfront. "Not even I think that does any good," said Otto, and he smiled tentatively under raised eyebrows.

Julia laughed. "Then we're agreed." This time they held hands both hands firmly in the middle of the table. "Hey. We're going to be all right."

"I know we are," said Otto. "All three of us."

"Where there's life, there's hope," said Julia, and they were still for a moment. Gingerly, they discussed the dessert menu and agreed on two selections to share.

"We should talk about paint colors," said Otto.

"As soon as I get back from the bathroom," said Julia. "I think I can feel him pressing on my bladder."

While she was gone, Otto scanned the clouds for signs of clearing. It hadn't rained for several minutes, and he thought he smelled a fresh breeze crossing the terrace. He studied the photo on the front of the paper. The cobblestones of the fish market were strewn with ice, fish tails, and shoes, left uneaten by Dreadnought like popsicle sticks. The last memorandum of understanding had been a joke—no wonder it had fallen apart. And these small businessmen had paid the price. The article said that bids were already being solicited for a new fish market complex, an indoor facility with state-of-the-art defensive fortifications. Life goes on.

He glanced at the rest of the front page. A cell of sympathizers had been caught in the act of trying to disarm an early detection reef in the harbor. An economic report showed mixed indications. A high school student accused of cheating in an essay contest had fingered his parents as the real guilty parties. The Panthers had narrowly escaped a crushing defeat to the Pinstripes when the game was called on account of impending monsterism. More rain ahead.

Otto looked around for Julia and wondered how long she had been gone. Suddenly he felt a chill in the pit of his stomach. His hands trembling, he pushed back his chair and walked quickly toward the bathroom. He crossed the restaurant, passed the maitre d's station, and descended a long flight of marble stairs one at a time. Julia was sitting on the bottom step, her head in her arms, shaking. He sat down next to her. She raised her tear-streaked face. "Oh my god," Otto whispered. "Again."

"Again," Julia whispered. He put his arm around her waist and the two huddled together on the cold marble, not quite numb.