What Zoey Doesn’t Know
A Monster Haven Short Story
by R.L. Naquin
Edited by Sara E. Lundberg
Copyright 2014 R.L. Naquin
License Notes
This book is a work of fiction. All names, places, and characters are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any way whatsoever without written permission of the author, except as brief quotations.
Dear awesome reader,
This is a short story in the Monster Haven world. It occurs between book three, Fairies in My Fireplace, and book four, Golem in My Glovebox, but it can still stand on its own. Find out how it all started in the first book, Monster in My Closet. The Monster Haven books are available wherever e-books are sold.
More books are on the way. Thanks for reading!
Rachel
The mummy barely waited for Zoey’s car to disappear down the driveway before he knocked on the back door. I knew it was him. My monster ears are pretty sharp—probably because of their size. I’m proud of them, even if they do make it hard to wear a hat.
Hats are cool.
The mummy’s bandaged feet shuffled up the steps. His gauzed-over knuckles thumped rather than knocked. I opened the door to find Akhenaten waiting, hands tucked into his armpits and head lowered.
“Dude,” I said. “I just re-bandaged you yesterday.”
Akhenaten moaned. He did that a lot before speaking. Drove me nuts. “I didn’t know she was making spaghetti for dinner.”
Sure enough. The gauze around his lips had a reddish stain to it, and tiny red flecks covered his chest and chin. It sort of looked like blood, so I was surprised he was worried about it. It added a startling effect.
I ran my hand over my head and took a deep breath to keep from getting angry. “I’ve got a lot going on today. I’ll redo your head, but that’s it, okay?”
He nodded. “Thanks.” He drew the ‘s’ out extra long, and I considered flicking him in the ear. I didn’t. But I thought about it.
“Sit, sit, sit.” I pulled out a kitchen chair for him, but didn’t offer a drink like I usually did. The game was getting old.
While Akhenaten got himself settled, I ran down the hall and grabbed the bag of gauze from the back of the linen closet. Zoey found it once when she was digging in there for nail polish, but she didn’t ask why we had so much of it.
Thank the gods, because she’d kill me if she knew about this.
After I located the end of the gauze from where I’d tucked it in his collar the day before, I unwrapped the bandages from his head to his neck. His blond hair was sweaty from confinement, and his skin was pale from lack of sun.
The guy’s real name was Gavin, and why his wife put up with this behavior was beyond me. Humans are weird. I went along with it mostly so he’d leave Zoey alone. She had enough going on without playing counselor to a delusional whackjob who’d accidentally stumbled on the Hidden world and wanted to be part of it.
Zoey wouldn’t have humored him. She’d have tried to ‘fix’ him. My way was easier. He wanted to play dress up and role-play the whole monster thing, more power to him. Not my business. He paid me in peaches or the occasional bag of walnuts from the trees in his backyard. Fair deal, I guess, since Zoey hated when I took stuff from the neighbors’ yards without their knowledge.
Once Gavin was rewrapped, I patted him on the shoulder. “Okay, buddy. You’re good to go. Try to keep it clean a little longer this time. I’m running low on supplies.”
He groaned, long and low. “Thanksss.”
“No problem. Make sure nobody sees you. It’s broad daylight. Do you want a hat or something?”
He refused the hat and stumbled out the back door, his legs stiff and awkward, groaning and holding his arms out in front of him. I wasn’t too worried about people seeing him. The magic bubble surrounding our backyard made everyone and everything inside invisible to people outside the bubble. Gavin only had to go through four yards to get to his own house. As long as he was careful, nobody would see him now that most people were at work.
If he were actually part of the Hidden community, I’d be more concerned. But what was the worst that could happen? Felicia from two doors over might look out her window and see a mummy dragging himself through the trees. If she believed it was a real mummy, she probably wouldn’t tell anybody, for fear of being called crazy. If she thought it was a crazy person in a mummy outfit, she might call the cops. Worst case scenario, Gavin’s little fetish would get exposed and he’d be outed as a human.
Not my problem.
Once I was sure he was gone, I grabbed my navy hoodie and zipped myself into the appearance of a passable human. Snagging my eco-friendly, reusable shopping bag, I went out in the opposite direction to make my morning rounds of the neighborhood gardens.
Zoey’s told me more than once not to do this. Sure. Her reasons were sound, and I totally respected them. If people saw me picking their produce, they’d show up with pitchforks and torches demanding we hand over their purloined eggplants and radishes. That was why Zoey didn’t know about it. Also, it was why I’d never tell her that her favorite pumpkin cheesecake was made from the Deckers’ prize-winning pumpkins and eggs from the Hawthornes’ chicken coop.
Usually, I made my rounds earlier in the morning, but Zoey had overslept and Gavin had shown up, so I was behind. It meant I had to be faster and stealthier than usual. Speed wasn’t a big deal—closet monsters can move faster than the human eye can follow—but choosing which fruits and vegetables are ripe and how many won’t be missed required more than faster-than-the-eye thought. Most people don’t understand that super-speed doesn’t necessarily equate to super-thought.
Zipping to and from each garden was great, but I had to stop to examine things. And that’s when things got dangerous.
Most of the neighbors in the area had regular nine-to-five jobs. At my first stop, a quick peek out front to see that Sandra’s car wasn’t in the driveway told me she was gone. I popped around the side to trim a little rosemary and mint from her herb garden, then strolled to the back to check her tomatoes.
“Psst. Get down!”
A hand grabbed my sleeve and tugged. I dropped to the ground, alert. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s home, you nitwit. Didn’t you check inside? Her car’s in the shop.”
Startled by the tone, I stopped scanning the area and looked at the guy squatting next to me. I groaned. “Silas, what are you doing here?”
Silas the pooka was bad news. He was the embodiment of bad luck and took great pleasure in causing trouble for the people around him. Sitting next to him meant the very real possibility of an anvil falling on my head while I slipped on a banana peel dropped by a passing black cat.
The dude was seriously dangerous.
Silas rocked back onto his heels and shoved a hairy finger up his nose. “I came to see Zoey. It’s been awhile.” He inspected the goop on the end of his finger and wiped it on Sandra’s grass.
The first time Silas had shown up, I’d been away. Zoey’d had to put up with him, and he’d trashed the house. He was gone by the time I got back, but I’d dealt with the mess. Since then, he’d visited twice—always at mealtimes. The bad-luck thing he had going wasn’t nearly as disruptive as the slob factor.
Silas was intentionally disgusting.
“Zoey’s at work. And she’s really busy, Silas. It’s not a good time for company.”
He snorted and scratched his belly. “Don’t be stupid. Zoey’s always busy. And I know she’s at work. That’s why I thought I’d gra
b a little breakfast over here. I thought I’d wait until this broad made breakfast, then move in close until my luck got her. Maybe she’d have to run to the hospital.” He shrugged. “Or worse. Either way, I’d get breakfast.”
I stared at him, appalled. “Dude, seriously? Is that how you usually get your meals?”
He smiled and didn’t answer.
I shook my head. “You need to stay away from our house today. I’ve got a lot to do, and Zoey’s under a lot of stress. Go home.”
Silas held his stubby arms up with his palms held out. “All right. All right. Don’t get all bossy on me. I brought her some information I thought she’d be interested in.”
I inhaled and counted to ten. “What information?”
“What are you, her secretary?”
Asshole. “Let’s just say I’m her business manager. Everything goes through me.”
Silas belched. “Fine. Suit yourself. You ever heard of Mytho-crockus?”
Aside from the fact that Silas was an untrustworthy shit, the word sounded totally made up. I gave him my best eye roll. “You know I haven’t.”
He examined his filthy fingernails, then used one to pick his teeth. “It’s a neuro-virus. Humans can get it when exposed to a large number of Hidden in their vicinity. It’s why large populations of us don’t generally hang out together around large cities.”
I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or pop him in