Monster by Christopher Pike

Author:Christopher Pike [Pike, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Angela drove from the library to the shop, stopping along the way at a deli. Maybe she was pregnant and had conceived during an erotic dream. She bought the strangest thing to eat: a foot-long German sausage and a loaf of bread. She didn't even touch the bread, though. She gobbled down the sausage as she drove along Highway I7. It was only when she was done that she realized it hadn't even been cooked.

Still tasted great.

Cheap Stuff looked cheap from the outside. A wooden shack built against an aging brick home, it was set back from the road and had a peeling wooden pony standing guard outside on a lawn of dust. Angela parked and went in. The great-great-granddaughter greeted her. It had to be the woman. She was native American, and she had a blanket in her hands that she wanted to show Angela.

“I’m really here to see Shining Feather,” Angela said, glancing about. The shop held shelves of pottery, woven baskets, hand-carved wooden figures – nothing that would interest a young woman raised in shopping malls.

“Feather, he's taking nap,” the woman said. She was about thirty and very fat. She wore her black hair in a long, thick ponytail that reached past her waist. She shoved her blanket into Angela's arms. “This I give you for sixty bucks. It's a genuine Manton blanket.”

The brown blanket looked as if it had been purchased at Wal-Mart and then had a couple of white pictographs sewn on it with thread. “I don't have sixty bucks,” Angela said. “But I have a report on the Manton that I have to finish for class Monday. It's real important I speak to your great-great-grandfather. Could I come back at a later time?”

The woman was interested. “Are you saying good things about us?”

“Very good things.”

“How much money do you have?”

“About two bucks.”

The woman reached for a small clay figure on a nearby shelf. It was of a young native girl. “I'll sell you this and then go wake Feather.”

“I don't want you to wake him. He might not like that.”

The woman shrugged and put the figure in a brown bag. “He sleeps all the time. I'll have to wake him sooner or later so that he can get up to go to the bathroom.”

Angela handed over her remaining two dollars, and the woman disappeared into the back. Angela decided she definitely had to stop at an ATM on the way home. She wasn't going back to her grandfather's place without groceries. She checked the time – five thirty-two. Jim had said he wanted to see her again at seven.

The woman reappeared and gestured that Angela was to follow her into the house portion of the structure, which was a questionable improvement over the retail part. They went through a messy kitchen and an impoverished living-room into a tiny bedroom. Here things were neater; the bed was made, and the window was open, facing the sunset. The room smelled nice; a stick of incense burned in the corner.

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