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The Monster

And the Guardian

By Kelly RetzPublished 3 years ago 9 min read
2

His mother died on a Wednesday. Many of the town’s people came to pay their respects, but most just offered a regretful nod, or offerings of food while keeping their eyes glued to Edgar’s feet. He was “inhuman” as he’d heard them say many times. His face was twisted and revolting, and most of the time, he spoke a language that was all his own. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand their language. He was quite astute. But they never saw that side to him. Rather they shielded their children’s eyes when he’d pass on the street and whisper horrid things to each other.

“His poor mother, Fiona.” They’d say.

“I heard her husband left them when he caught sight of that thing.” Another jeered.

“She should have given him to the orphanage. Not a soul would have blamed her.”

Edgar’s father had never laid eyes on him. He was a violent drunk and had beaten Fiona nearly to death one night in a fit of rage. Fiona was eight months pregnant at the time and it had caused several complications with Edgar’s birth. It was the very reason that Edgar looked the way he did. By the time Fiona had brought him home from the hospital, his father was gone.

As he grew, Fiona could see that he was different, but she encouraged him to be himself and to never let anyone tell him he was wrong for being born special.

“People with small minds can’t extend their thoughts past the trials of their own lives. They can’t cope with everything falling apart, so they focus on you, son. Don’t pay mind to them, you hear me?” Fiona had told him.

Edgar knew she was right. He’d never told her about how Mrs. Dirta Mills would sit in her window each night and cry while her husband was three streets over at Farah Brighton’s house. Or how Mr. Wright, who lived five houses down, had gone out to the forest behind his home with his shotgun on six different occasions and placed it into his mouth without the courage to pull the trigger; then after weeping loudly for his late wife, Nora, he would walk back home with his head held low.

And it was now, after his Mother’s funeral, that Edgar saw Ron Firth through the dimly lit windows of his house, sneak quietly down the hallway for the second night in a row. The first time, Edgar found it strange that a man would be sneaking around in his own home, so he stopped to observe from the cover of the darkness, but when he saw the lamp turn on in his daughter Emily’s room and Ron’s shadow standing over her, Edgar realized why he’d been sneaking. The deep grief he felt over the loss of his Mother turned to rage.

This time though, he’d come prepared. He stomped through the garden in front of the Firth's bungalow, and when he reached the window of little’s Emily’s dimly lit bedroom, he lifted an object that he had taken from his home. It was a barn owl that Edgar had carved out of wood for his mother. She’d loved it so much, that she placed it on the mantle piece.

“This is where she will watch over us and protect us from evil.” She smiled. “Owls are guardians, did you know that Eddie?” She smiled.

He pointed to her and grunted.

“Yes, just like me. I’ll always be your guardian, too.” She said.

After that, Edgar believed that the owl had special powers to protect from evil, and it was the reason he had it with him now.

It was Ron’s wide eyes that Edgar saw, as he drew back his arm and swung, owl in hand, window glass shattering, and little Emily screaming. When Emily’s mother, Lenore came bursting through her bedroom door and saw Ron with his pants to his ankles, she too screamed in horror. It was the owl that she saw next, as it sat perched in the window sill, and finally, Edgar standing behind the window heaving, with his angry eyes locked on Ron.

“The monster! Get that monster out of here!” little Emily wailed.

The irony was not lost on Edgar as he bowed his head and turned away from the sound of Lenore who was now screaming obscenities at him to leave her daughter alone.

He scurried back toward his house in a panic as the skies opened and rain began to fall like hard pellets on his skin, and it wasn’t long before he could hear the sound of sirens not far in the distance. Edgar knew he was in trouble. He was certain that the police were not coming for Ron like they should be. He saw the look in Lenore’s eye. It was a subtle flash that he spotted immediately before her mouth gaped in surprise. She was a Mother, born naturally with a sixth sense, most especially when it came to her children. But she hadn’t done anything to stop it.

One thing Edgar knew for sure- she was nothing like his mother.

To elude the fast approching sirens, Edgar detoured when he reached Mr. Wright’s house. Assuming they'd go in hunt for him at his own home first, he snuck quietly to the back porch where he knew that Mr. Wright kept his shotgun. Relieved to find the gun cabinet unlocked, Edgar imagined it was because Mr. Wright had likely visited the forest again that day. Pulling the 12 gauge out, he quickly turned to leave, when he heard Mr. Wright shout.

“Where do you think you’re going with that?"

Edgar spun to see Mr. Wright standing in his back doorway.

“Answer me boy." he demanded. "Or are you too stupid to understand me?"

The glow of the flashing red and blue lights now illuminated the sky around the house and Edgar could hear their voices as they yelled to each other to “spread out and find him.” He looked at Mr. Wright, who now was wondering what the commotion was about, and Edgar turned and ran toward the forest before he could stop him.

Edgar knew the forest better than anyone. And because of that, even in the pitch black and rain, he knew how to get to the old barn that was on an abandoned property on the other side.

Edgar could hear dogs barking from far behind, and sometimes he could even catch a glimpse of a flashlight shining through trees. But he kept running, with gun in hand, to his safe place.

When he finally reached the barn, Edgar swung the door closed and leaned against it, breathless. It was black as night inside, but the familiar smells soothed him slightly. Tears filled his eyes like wells and fell to his cheeks. He’d only tried to do the right thing and help that little girl. But instead, he was trapped like the monster that they all accused him to be.

He knew they'd track him there soon, so he began to barricade himself in. He couldn’t let them take him to jail. He’d be tormented and tortured not only by the police, but by the inmates. Officers had always paid special attention to Edgar when they would see him walking through town. They would even make remarks about him, telling him they should lock him up for scaring the neighbourhood children with his face.

When he had done all that he could to block the door, Edgar climbed up the ladder to the loft and sat quietly in wait, hugging his knees, and trying to warm himself from the cold and wet.

It wasn’t much longer before they arrived. He heard the dogs first, and then the voices.

The dogs circled before barking furiously at the door to the barn which was now wedged closed by rusty equipment and moldy hay bales. Edgar counted seven of them through the wondow, as he kept himself carefully hidden in the darkness.

“Come on out Edgar! We know what you did to that little girl!” an officer shouted.

Edgar rocked back and forth in anger and sadness. It was not true, but they’d never believe him, even if he could articulate it.

“You don’t want us to come in there to get you boy, so you best come out!” another yelled.

Edgar closed his eyes tightly to block out the flashes of light that seeped through the cracks of the barn boards like disco lights. He cried and begged and wished he had his mother to help save him from it all.

It was then that he heard a flutter above him. His eyes shot up, and it was the white glow of its body that he saw first. Despite the darkness surrounding him, it somehow pulled in every fleck of light and illuminated itself like an angel. When its head turned and faced him, Edgar could see the unmistakable heart shaped face, and two beaded eyes looking at him.

His guardian. His Mother.

The police were now banging furiously at the door of the barn, breaking the barricade down with every blow, but Edgar no longer felt fear. He knew he was protected.

The door finally gave way and the officers began to file in, but a sudden flash of light followed by a single blast from above caused them all to dive for cover. With guns loaded and ready, the seven officers sat in wait as the sound of the rain died down, to see what Edgar’s next move would be. But after ten minutes, there was only silence.

They used hand signals to communicate with each other, and chose a rookie officer to climb up to the loft and make sure the coast was clear. With sweaty palms and much apprehension, the rookie shook as he climbed the ladder. When he reached the last rung, he peered carefully above the opening. He spotted Edgar's body lying next to the shotgun, and as he turned to inform the others, a sudden movement from above caused him to panic and pull his trigger, which lead to the other officers opening fire. And as the barrage of gunfire echoed through the old barn, and the rookie fell lifeless to the floor below; two barn owls exited quietly from the window above, and in to the night.

fact or fiction
2

About the Creator

Kelly Retz

Unendingly in thought. Incessant need to create. Introvert. Dog Lover.

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