The Monitor

The Monitor

By Edward Lorn

monitor: [mon-i-ter] - something that serves to remind or give warning.

My son, Juan, was three hours in this world when I met Gaius. Monica slept soundly after the birth, so I snuck downstairs to have a smoke.

The homeless man stopped me in my tracks. Gaius had long silver hair that he’d pulled back in a ponytail. His raggedy clothing must’ve been applied in layers, because he looked to weigh a great deal, but his neck was rail thin. His smell reminded me of my unlucky sojourn into the long term care section of the hospital the day prior. I’d stepped off the elevator and onto the wrong floor. As hospitals corridors are apt to, that hall looked very similar to labor and delivery. I smelled rot and feces. Piss and age.

But this man, he smelled stronger. There was an urgency in his filth, as if it couldn’t wait to be found out. The aroma caused me to twitch.

“Can you spare something?” His outstretched hand bore a glove, sans middle finger. The loose fabric hung at a disjointed angle, swinging below his cupped hand. I had enough time to wonder how he’d lost it, before the funk brought me back.

I didn’t say a word. I pulled out my wallet and handed the man a five. His face contorted, looking troubled.

“Thanks, Mister, but the vendin’sheens don’t take a fiver.” The sadness in his eyes told tales of having this problem before. People had taken back their fives and moved on. Maybe because they didn’t carry smaller bills.

I felt the need to respond with, “You’re in luck. But you’re gonna be a buck short.” I handed him the four singles I carried, and his smile couldn’t have gotten brighter. Seriously, it couldn’t have. His teeth shone yellow in the streetlights, and I couldn’t help but think, I can’t believe it’s not butter!

            “Thanks, again! Name ah Gaius, boss. You’re a good man. You should know my name.”

“Welcome, Gaius. My name’s Raul. You have a good night.” I felt a little bad telling a homeless man to have a proper evening, but old Gaius didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he’d seemed shocked that I’d offered my own name in return.

“Like I said, Raul, you’s a good man. See ya soon!” And off he went in the direction of the hospital doors.

My cigarette tasted funny, like dirt on my tongue. I butted it before I was half through and went back inside. As soon as I walked into the lobby, I knew something was amiss. Raised voices came from the hall directly to my left. A brief glimpse at the sign hanging above the hall told me: Restrooms and Vending.

Gaius was on his back, shirt ripped open, electrodes stuck to his chest and side. A heavy nurse did compressions while another worked with an AMBU bag. My four singles hung from a loose hand. He’d died hungry.

The doctor’s voice broke my concentration. “Call it. Ten fourteen.”

Colder words, I’d never heard.

***

We took Juan home two days later. A chubby baby, I’d had. He looked like his mother, thank God, but the poor little guy had ended up with my chubby cheeks. They hung off him like half empty sandbags.

Rain slowed our journey home. A storm had come in at some point, and showed no signs of letting up. Monica sat in the back with Juan, singing lullabys I’d never heard before.

“The site of you pleases me, and gives me smiles that I need. Monitor watch over him, so that he may sleep, and wake again.”

When we arrived home, the power was out. My home seemed foreboding. Malevolent darkness hid where shadows should not trespass. Especially my son’s new crib.

Monica and I shared a beer in the darkness, talking over our new son, and what he may become one day. I fell asleep to the sound of our battery operated baby monitor.

Crrrrrrrrkk…shhhhhhhhh…

 

***

I woke up feeling cold, thunder droning outside our windows.

The baby monitor cracked, and I heard a voice whisper, “Such a beautiful boy.”

Even though my wife’s voice sounded hollow, and masculine, I agreed. “Yes, yes he is.”

“What?” Monica rolled over next to me, and my heart redlined.

The monitor spoke again, “Pretty boy.”

I threw the covers off to the floor, almost tripping in them as I got up. I snatched the flashlight off my nightstand and let it’s light lead the way.

Monica asked as I left the room, “Raul, what’s wrong?”

“Someone’s in the house!”

I ran down the hall, and burst into my son’s room. I searched the room with the torch’s cone of light.

A man stood beside Juan’s crib, his naked skin glinting in glow of the flashlight. Silver hair hung over his downcast face. Though his chest did not rise, or fall, with breath, and his mouth never moved, he sung the same words my wife had hours earlier.

“The site of you pleases me, and gives me smiles that I need. Monitor watch over him, so that he may sleep, and wake again.”

“Who are you?” I demanded.

The figure looked up at me, and said, “You don’t `member me, Raul?”

My mouth went dry. I found the man’s hand with the flashlight. His middle finger ended in a scared nub. “Gaius?”

“Best if you get him. I don’t have any control over things. Not much time left.”

I didn’t question him. I ran forward and scooped my slumbering son.

Glass exploded as something crashed through the window above the crib. I stumbled back, crashing into the dresser on the wall behind me.

Raising the flashlight, I could see that same smile on Gaius’s face; the one he’d had when I handed him the singles.

“You’s a good man, Raul.”

The power returned, and blinding light caused me to squint.

Gaius was gone.

In his place, a tree branch stood stoic. The wood had impaled the crib mattress.

            The End