My Boyfriend is a Monster (13 page)

The elderly lady followed up on how it reminded her about a day some years ago, she wasn’t exactly sure on the year or even the decade since she couldn’t remember if her husband was s
till alive or if he had passed, but today reminded her of that day, minus some major details. As her story went on Nathan smiled and nodded at the appropriate places while trying to tap into the powers he did not have, mainly those of telepathy and suggestion. These were powers reserved for Monsters his kind call “Third Eyes”. Some are powerful enough to manipulate people in to doing what they want, a power he wished he had right now. It was becoming infuriating and ironic since he wanted a tea so very badly in a place that had an abundance of it. But even with all his powers and abilities he stood thwarted by a ninety pound old lady and her power of conversation. Then like any other super villain her torture became aided by all the smells of different roasts of beans, leaves and spices. Whiffs of freshly cooked pastries invaded the air because the oven just opened and the smell made a mad dash for freedom which seemed to be right up Nathan’s nose. Suddenly the “Tasty Treats” counter heralded out to him and he could smell every ingredient in each and every tasty morsel. He was no match for this seventy year old scoundrel, he needed a plan. If he morphed into his beast like state that might shut her up, or would it? The more she talked the more he thought it would just give her something more to talk about, a lot more.

Just as he thought his only escape was to run, her friend asked her a simple question and she turned her attention. Now he just had to wait for them to order. No one was coming in behind him or if they were they probably saw old lady
SLOW,
and her friend,
SLOWER,
and decided to come back in an hour or two.

Finally after a hundred questions about the different coffees and a thousand questions about the deserts, the two ladies were making their way to the register.
Standing with a smile behind the counter Todd asked him what Nathan had been waiting to hear all morning. “And what can I get for you today sir?”

“Hello,” Nathan greeted warmly. “I just moved into the area.”

“Well hello neighbor, I’m Todd Jacobson. One half owner of this establishment, Sips. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Well thank you
, neighbor,” he said watching the store owner give him a big satisfactory smile that told Nathan he nailed it. “I’m actually just up the street; I’m opening a book store.”

“Oh. My. God.” Todd
dragged out. “Congratulations, I saw the sign go up the other day.”

“Thank you.”

Todd decided to get a little serious. “Look a little young to own an old book store.”

“What can I say?
I love books.”

That was the end of Todd
getting serious as he fell to his elbows while his palms caught his cheeks. “There is nothing better than a good book,” he said while thinking. “Twenty Thousand Leagues, the Time Machine, Too Kill a Mockingbird.”

“Good ones,” Nathan
agreed.

He was not done.
“Catcher in the Rye, Frankenstein, and Moby Dick.”

Nathan decided to interrupt. “I actually will have a pristine first edition of Moby Dick and Treasure Island on display for a while.”

“Shut your ass,” Todd said surprised as childhood memories suddenly flowed into his head at the mention of the Treasure Island book. For a few moments he could remember being picked on as a boy, which was an everyday occurrence. But when he got home he could always dive into books and Treasure Island was one of his favorites. Transporting him to adventures on the high seas he suddenly had the strongest urge to call it a day and head to the park. He could join Long John Silver and Jim Hawkins for another adventure to find the x that marks the spot. It was starting to seem like a better way to spend the afternoon.

Not wa
nting to interrupt his daydream Nathan still wanted a tea, badly. “Um, come by anytime.”

Realizing he couldn’t just head off to the park he decided to come back to reality and join the conversation already in progress. “And I can actually see the first editions?”

“Absolutely, their incased in glass, but yes,” he assured him.

Todd tilted
his head a little and widened his eyes in a move Nathan could only perceive as “On the down low” and then in a long whisper he asked, “Can I touch them?”

Seeing a weird obsessive look in his eyes Nathan started to get a little worried. “Were still talking about books right?”

Staring at him silently Todd was making him more and more uncomfortable, until all of a sudden he burst into laughter. “Yes the books,” he roared. “Treasure Island was probably the first book I read. When I was done I flipped right back to the beginning and read it again.” Shaking his head he slowly started drifting away again. “Then when my father got me King Solomon’s Mines, the Lost World, then Moby Dick, I mean, the list goes on.”

Nathan could easily relate since he felt the same way when h
e first read them back in 1883, 1885, 1912 and 1851 respectively.

Becoming very curious Todd stopped laughing and leaned inward a bit. “But they must be worth a fortune. I read somewhere a first edition of Moby Dick in mint condition is worth-” he paused and waved Nathan closer as not to be rude. “North of a hundred thousand
,” he said nodding as if to confirm it. Then just in case he wasn’t sure what hundred thousand he was pertaining to, he clarified. “Dollars.”

Staying in close Nathan
replied back. “It’s actually a little south.”

“Still,” he said with an “Oh My God”
eyebrow raise and a whistle that started low and pitched high, then low again at the end.

He could tell the store owner was genuinel
y passionate about books. Nathan knew Todd would blow a gasket if he knew he had five to fifty copies of almost every first edition of any half decent book ever made. He was also positive his head would explode knowing some of them were signed by the actual author, to Nathan himself. One of the many perks of being over two hundred years old. But it was always nice to meet someone so passionate about reading, especially in a place he would surely be frequenting often.

C
ontinuing to keep Nathan from his goal, unbeknownst to Todd, he continued. “Although sometimes I like to curl up with a glass of wine and a good harlequin book,” he admitted and started to drift back into that dreamy state. “I just substitute the heroine’s name with Todd . . . or Toddy,” he said starting to giggle. “But God bless the independent publishing boom, a lot more, gay, E-roti-ca,” he said and clawed at Nathan while laughing.

Shaking his head he couldn’t help but laugh with him, he was good natured and his laugh was infectious.

“Not trying to shock you,” Todd said stepping back and sticking out his two thumbs. “Who’s got two thumbs and is openly gay?” He pointed his thumbs back to himself. “This Gay – Hello,” he declared and started to laugh again. “See what I did there, I sad this gay instead of this guy,” he explained laughing louder giving his new customer a swat on the shoulder. Noticing how solid Nathan actually was he stopped. “Whoa, you work out,” he gasped then paused again. “Hey, I’m taken you gorgeous son of a bitch.” Laughing quietly and waving his hands in surrender he decided to apologize, “I’m sorry Honey. It’s just one of those days.” Taking a deep breath he exhaled and said, “Sorry, you must be thirsty.”

“And famished,” Nathan said exhilarated the ordering was moving forward.

“Well ok. Let’s get something in you.” Todd’s eyes instantly ignited realizing what he just said.

Lowering his head and too afraid to look Nathan eventually peeked
. He saw Todd’s face beat red and overwhelmed.

Trying to hold back the resounding roar demanding to be set free, Todd could only mouth the words “Sorry” over and over.

Forgetting how thirsty and hungry he was Nathan couldn’t help but burst into laughter. Giggling and pointing the two men at the counter put the entire coffee shop on hold.

“I like you Book man,” Todd said leaning on the counter to catch his breath.

“I like you too . . .  openly gay, coffee shop owner,” he said wiping the tears from his eyes.

“So seriously, what can I get you?”

Catching his composure he started to explain. “I don’t know if you were in or remember but yesterday a Cajun fellow came in.”

“I was and I do,” he replied remembering him instantly.

“First off, I must apologize if he was rude in anyway.”

“Please, he was a perfect gentleman
,” Todd replied giving him the “Don’t worry about it” wave.

“I know how he can get. Small, small town, like almost abandoned in the woods and raised by wolves mentality,” he explained while chuckling in his head at how much that analogy was actual fact.

“That man went beyond kitschy. For reals, he was a lotta fun. Actually made my day with all that food you boys ordered.”

Not knowing if he was just being polite or just delivering good customer service he decided to apologize one more time before going with it. “Well anyways I’m sorry if he did.”

“Again sir, he was a perfect gentleman.”

Deciding to take his word on the matter and properly introduce himself he extended his hand. “My name is Nathan, Nathan Caesar.”

Taking his hand he suddenly stood up straight and looked Nathan over for a moment then had to ask. “Your name is actually Nathan Caesar?”

“Yes. Well actually, Nathaniel Caesar, but please, Nathan.”

“What an enchanting name Mr. Caesar,” he said continuing to shake his hand and give him another once over.

Suddenly Nathan was saved from the awkwardness of Martin calling out from the cash register. “Novio, how much for the lovely Ladies?” he asked looking like his patience was now being tested as well.

In case Nathan holding the door open for them didn’t quite disguise the fact he almost mowed them over. He thought this would be a perfect way to make up for it. “No, I got that,” he said as the ladies looked at him surprised. “It’s on me,” he said giving a little wave.

“Now would a serial killer do that? I told you he was a nice man,” the chatty one defended.

“Of course he would, that’s how they lure you into their basement,” the other lady began to explain.

Nathan turned to Todd defending himself. “I don’t even have a basement.”

The skeptical old lady continued. “Or their van, then drive you out into the woods to have their way with you.”

Still looking at Todd he felt compelled to reassure him. “Don’t have a van either.”

“I’m pretty sure that nice man is not our serial killer,” Martin said receiving an agreed nod from one and “Humph” from the other.

Realizing they were actually talking about a real killer he turned back to Todd. “Serial killer?”

“Haven’t you heard?” Todd asked. But Nathan only shook his head. “It’s been all over the news for week’s sweetie.” He grabbed the newspaper and showed him the front page. “We might have a serial killer on the loose, the last murder not too far from here.”

Finding he
seemed to steer away from television and radio he usually got what little news he did from reading the paper, when he actually bothered getting one. Over the past couple of centuries he found the media’s seemed to over occupy and/or depress, getting worse as the decades rolled on. But deciding not to indulge in the negativity of reported stories also put him out of touch with global headlines and local happenings. Case in point, now a serial killer or real life Monster was exposed. A little more awareness might help him avoid the spotlight.

Todd snapped him out of thoughts of killings. “Well Mr. Nathaniel Caesar, what can I get you?”

Putting serial killers on hold he returned to his earlier story. “Well, that’s what I was getting too, yesterday he brought back this amazing tea.”

Holding his finger up and cutting h
im off he called over to Martin. “Honey, call her grace.”

Walking towards the kitchen Martin yelled out, “Perezoso, tea time”

Coming out of the kitchen looking like a mess and a little pissed off Lily threw a dish towel over her shoulder and sought out Martin. “Lazy,” she repeated his accusation in English. “I just did all the dishes from yesterday,” she said then turned to Todd. “Which by the way was your day.” Turning back to Martin she pursued his comment of calling her lazy. “Plus you closed the night before and I hate it when you close - you don’t do your dishes either,” she said as she started to wash and scrub her hands all the way up to her elbows.

“First off, your highness,” Martin
said with a curtsy trying not to laugh. “I am doing all the baking. I should not be doing the dishes.” Waving his finger in the air he reminded her. “Second, I was off yesterday, how can I do the dishes if I am not here?”

“How convenient,” she smiled sarcastically while drying.

Todd decided to interrupt. “Hey, Spanish super fly . . . let her work.”

Martin turned to her not knowing what “Spanish fly” meant.
“Qué significa esto, Spanish fly?”

Lily just shrugged her shoulder. “I don’t know, like Shaft?”