Wilde Stories 2009 by Steve Berman

Author:Steve Berman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror, gay, queer, homosexual, paranormal, sci fi, spec fic, alternative history, speculative ficition
Publisher: Lethe Press

“Monsters?”

Owen nodded and tapped the book by his plate. “Old stories tell that a hag lives in a cave on the mountain. She has two mouths,” he said and clicked his own jaws. “The second is hidden in her hair. She lures lost travelers and devours them.”

Saul chuckled. “I would have guessed you were a businessman. Not a Van Helsing.”

That distracted Owen for a moment; he would have liked to have been a Cushing Van Helsing more than a Van Sloan Van Helsing but doubted he had either’s character.

“So what monsters have you slain?”

“None. I’ve searched everywhere. England. Scotland and Russia—”

“Where in Russia? I spent six months all over Perm Krai. I camped in the Urals.”

Owen had never known anyone who had lived out of a tent for six days let alone months. Such a life, unfettered with a numerical address or zip code, seemed terrifying.

“You’re really a professor, right? Studying folklore? I heard this part of Japan has some interesting history.”

“I look like a professor?” Owen looked down at himself. His sports coat had seen better days. He imagined tweed patched at the elbows and smiled.

Saul shrugged. He stuffed rice into his mouth. Owen watched his Adam’s apple bob with each swallow. Saul had a scrawny neck and several dark hairs peeked out of the collar of his t-shirt. Owen wondered how they would feel. Wiry or soft?

“I taught statistics at Princeton.” Owen amazed himself with the lie.

Saul devoured his slices of pickle and Owen offered him the remaining pieces from his own plate. “And you’re here because of this—”

“The Yama-uba.”

Saul laughed. “I think that’s what Japanese kids call grunge chic.”

“The stories don’t say what she wears.” Owen looked at the faded cloth cover of the book.

“So you believe she exists?”

“The law of averages. I’ve looked for monsters everywhere. One of them has to be real.”

Saul reached over the table and took hold of Owen’s jacket lapel. He lifted it aside. “Are you packing silver bullets?”

Owen tried to hide his blush with an extra long sip of tea.

“Well, good luck with your hunt.” Saul wiped his mouth then left a rumpled napkin in the center of his plate. “Maybe I’ll see you later. If you need an assistant who knows almost nothing about the countryside.”

Owen took too long to answer. Saul had left. Owen didn’t know how to tell that, just once, he wished to be the one hunted.

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