“Hello?” Dor asked through the front door.

With the windows boarded over, he had no way of knowing who his visitors were.

“Now I got ya, boy!” A gruff voice replied.

Oh no, no, no, no. Why didn’t I turn around and go visit him? Uncle Ron was outside. He only prayed Dad wasn’t with him, too. As he opened the door, a huge man built like a tank stood there. His arms couldn’t fit in a normal T-shirt, so Uncle Ron always wore wife-beaters, cut-off jean shorts, and his purple Crocs. Dor supposed when a man got to be Uncle Ron’s size, they didn’t need to care about their appearance. His face was clean shaved and his hair trimmed short, the old military crew-cut he’d worn for the last twenty years.

Dad’s gangly frame stood next to his buddy’s. His shaggy hair, loose clothes, and five-o’clock shadow really contrasted Uncle Ron’s appearance. It was like ‘The Dude’ standing next to ‘Walter’ from the Big Lebowski. Only, Dor knew these two weren’t here about a pissed on rug. They were here to check up him.

Why didn’t I turn around and go visit Uncle Ron? They always leave me alone…

Dor didn’t want his bizarre life here in the Chinese restaurant to merge with the normalcy of Rose Valley. If that happened, he’d have nowhere to escape to.  Uncle Ron held out a casserole dish and said, “smoked white-tail and mac’n cheese.”

“And none of that Panko what-have-ya,” Dad chimed in. “I told Ronnie to leave that out. Mac’n cheese ain’t supposed to crunch.”

Uncle Ron laughed deep and heartily. “I might have underestimated my habanero patch out back. Put a few of the red ones in, ya know? Man! Boy howdy this’ll make ya shit fire! Good stuff, tell you what. Clear out the sinuses and the colon all in one go. Great for the health.”

Uncle Ron narrowed his eyes. “You look like death, son. Manny here said ya seemed a little worse for wear. But I knew that was Manny talk for you being on death’s door, and I was right!”

That giant of a man wearing cut-off jeans and Crocs barged right past Dor and into the dining room converted office space. Dad walked in right after him, squeezing Dor’s shoulder, and with apologetic eyes said, “you know how it is, son.”

Dazed, Dor nodded. Right now, his two worlds were colliding and he couldn’t stop it. Please…please stay in your room, monster. You’re something I could never explain to Uncle Ron.

He knew what Dad’s words meant. Likely Uncle Ron confronted Dad about Dor not visiting. Dad probably threw out an offhanded comment about Dor seeming a little under the weather. He knew Dad wouldn’t divulge any more than that, but he also knew just that would be enough for Uncle Ron to assume command and kick down his door like this. It really sucked to be loved sometimes.

Uncle Ron didn’t make it to the fridge with his casserole. Under the red lights, he paused in front of Lulu’s old computer, her clothes still slumped in a pile over the chair. This was only the second time he’d seen that sight; the first being right after she disappeared. Likely, having to confront his daughter’s empty computer was part of the reason Uncle Ron never visited.

“It’s still the same,” Uncle Ron mused.

“I can’t turn ‘em off,” Dor replied. “It’s too…too much.”

The look Uncle Ron gave him wasn’t the same jovial greeting as before. He studied Dor intently. “This ain’t good on ya, boy,” Uncle Ron said. “It ain’t good on ya to stay here.”

Dor glanced at his old man for help, but Dad forced a smile, agreeing with Uncle Ron’s words. I can’t tell them. That monster upstairs…it’ll change things. I know it will. She’s the only way to find Lulu, not hanging fucking flyers downtown. All he could do was wait out the silence until Uncle Ron took his casserole into the kitchen.

“Looky there!” Uncle Ron immediately changed his tune and laughed. “This a garage or a kitchen?”

That first time those two visited, Dor made sure his car wasn’t parked in the kitchen. Going that far was simply too apocalyptic. He wanted to hide just how far his life had slipped, and parking a car next to the stove screamed ‘This guy’s off his rocker!’.

“We had a few vandals way back when,” Dor told him. You saw the state of the cars outside. Why question it?

Glass scraped across the kitchen tiles. Uncle Ron was kicking the shards of his passenger window around. “Looks like one of ‘em got in,” he said.

Fuck! I forgot about the busted window. There was no way to casually say, ‘Oh, yeah, a monster ripped me out of my car and broke the window in the process. You see, I lock myself in there at night, but she freaked out and thought I was going to choke to death on my own vomit again.’

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“I tripped the other day; came down on it hard with a cooking pot in my hand,” Dor told a weak lie.

“Christ son,” Uncle Ron said. “This ain’t no good. Tell ya what. Me and your old man were just headed out of town to check up on Skids, you know? Why don’t you come with us.”

Before Dor could refuse, Uncle Ron shook his head. “I didn’t say that right. We ain’t taking no for an answer. We’re gonna head out, check on ol’ Skids, and then have a barbecue back at Rose Valley.”

Dor’s eyes went wide. He absolutely could not leave town. People who left town did not come back. It was always a one way trip. Uncle Ron knew that, but he asked Dor along so casually, he might have just been inviting him to run a quick errand.

“There’s no way!” Dor couldn’t control his voice. “I can’t leave. They all might come back and then, we’ll be gone and they can’t find us, and then…and then…”

Dad put a hand on Dor’s shoulder. “Scare tactics, son,” Dad said. “Propaganda they spread to keep us all contained. It’s what them boys at the top do.”

For once, Dor didn’t agree with his old man. If they wanted to keep us contained, they’d only need to send in the National Guard. But we haven’t anyone from the outside. We can see them, but they can’t see us. This is a bad idea.

“You’re all gonna end up like Skids!” Dor cried.

Uncle Ron stiffened and a flicker of rage flashed across his face. Skids was his second youngest, a year older than Lulu. He’d left for work a while back and never came home. That was right around the time the rumors began to spread that leaving town was a one-way trip, and it sure left Uncle Ron in one hell of predicament. Should he chase down his boy, or stay and look for his favorite daughter? Whether Uncle Ron fully believed the rumors or not, that paranoia had to be in the back of his mind.

In a rare display, his old man spoke his opinion. “Ain’t nothing gonna happen if we stay here, son. It’s not…it’s not good on anyone.”

Right then, Dor saw just how hollow his old man’s cheeks were, how haggard his sunken eyes had become. Likely, this situation was eating away at his Dad, and he silently endured as he’d always done. They didn’t come by to drop off a casserole. They came by to recruit Dor so the trio of them could explore the outside world. And on the off-chance they couldn’t return to the city, at least their family wouldn’t be split up any more than it already was.

“I…I can’t, Dad,” Dor replied.

“Something’s gotta change, son.”

Crash! The casserole dish fell to the floor. Dor whipped his head around to see Uncle Ron staggering back, pointing to the bottom of the back stairwell. Why won’t you just stay put, you stupid, stupid monster? You stupid needy monster. Lulu’s Peter Rabbit comforter peeked out from behind the stairwell. A slit in the blanket opened up just enough to see her pitch-black eye. Though, more than likely what caught Uncle Ron’s attention was the slim tail swishing behind her.

Before Uncle Ron could make the situation worse, Dor jumped in between them and shook his finger at the monster. “Gloves,” he said. “Show me your mitts.”

Two oven mitts peeked through the blanket. She held them out for Dor to see, and he breathed a sigh of relief. At least she wasn’t so lost in her world she’d neglected simple instructions. “Never, never take those off,” he ordered.

She didn’t respond.

“Fucking nod!” Dor commanded.

The blanket nodded.

He pointed to the bottom step. “Sit there and don’t you move…fucking nod!”

He heard her whimper at his scolding but did as she was told, sniffling under the blanket all the while. To Dor, it didn’t matter if her intentions were good if she didn’t understand how dangerous she could be. Either he’d make her understand or she’d get fed up and rip him to shreds. There wasn’t any other way to handle that clueless monster. He was fairly certain she meant well, but that wasn’t enough, especially with his family here.

Uncle Ron inched closer. “Boy, that was some fright,” he said. “Didn’t expect nobody. That your roommate? What’s he got under there, a pet snake or something?”

Uncle Ron didn’t grasp the situation, but Dad paled. Dor explained to his old man exactly what kind of existence dwelt beneath the blanket. At the time, he didn’t know if his dad believed him or not. However, there was no denying it now. That tail…if only I could get her to hide it. Maybe put on some sunglasses, too? She might pass as real people then. Real people with oven mitts over her claws.

“It’s a she,” Dor stated. “At least, it looks like a she.”

Glancing over to the detached door leaned against the walk-in freezer, he figured he better give her a snack to keep her occupied.  Before Uncle Ron could ask another question, he strolled in and snatched a bag of doggy treats. While he was in there, he snuck a big swig, too, anything to keep him sane. When he walked out, Ron was picking up the casserole dish and cussing his clumsiness. Dad was silent and pale. And Dor opened the treats and dumped a pile on the bottom step, right next to her. The tail slithered over and crunched away.

“Leave her alone,” he added. “She’s dangerous. She means well, but she’ll rip you to shreds just the same.”

Dad gave a slow nod, and Uncle Ron chuckled as he scooped up the casserole. Uncle Ron threw away the remnants then walked right over. Dor stood in his way. With the big man’s hulking frame, he could peer right over the top of Dor’s head, watching her tail snarf down the pile of treats. Crunch. Snap. Pop.

“What kind of snake eats doggy treats?” Uncle Ron asked with a grin.

“Fucking leave her alone, Ron!” Dor wasn’t messing around. “That ain’t no snake. That’s a monster.”

Uncle Ron tried to step around Dor. “I get you don’t like snakes, boy, but don’t be raising your voice at me.”

Dor got right back in his way. “That’s a fucking monster, Ron. That ain’t no snake. That’s her tail. You don’t get it. She’s got claws and black eyes and a tail full of teeth. She’ll rip you shreds before either of you know what happened.”

Dad stepped in and put a hand on Uncle Ron’s arm. “Let it go, Ronnie. We should all just have a good talkin’ in the computer room, eh?”

Uncle Ron tilted his head, took one last look at the monster snacking on the stairs, shook his head, and walked away. Stuck between him and the monster, Dor didn’t know which side was more terrifying. He took another swig and didn’t even bother to hide it.

As the big man walked away, Dad stuck out a shaky hand, holding a joint out to Dor. Without a second thought, Dor took it and sparked it up, his Dad’s intentions completely clear. ‘Whatever it is, son, it’ll still be there in twenty minutes.’ Then the two of them joined Uncle Ron in the computer room, ready for a good chat.