El Monstruo let himself sink deeply into the warm bath water, but not so deep as to get his mask wet.  When he asked if he could use Rita’s bath tub, she insisted that he take the mask off. Despite himself, he told her that he would take it off. While he didn’t feel right about taking the mask off, he was starting to feel itchy; sometimes, it felt like the mask was crawling on his face. He tugged at the laces and pulled the mask off. How long has it been? Two months all ready. I wonder… El Monstruo pulled himself from the tub; dripping water, he walked to the mirror. Apprehensively, he looked at himself in the mirror.

Rita was sitting on the porch watching the tide coming in. She was proud that she stayed ‘just friends’ with el Monstruo. He was beautiful in his own way. He was tender and caring with children, and he had grown to be extremely gregarious since starting his job at the Freeky Tiki. Arouna had confided in Rita that he wasn’t sure if the burly man was the right fit for the restaurant. However, el Monstruo’s presence warded off any chances of drunken patrons starting a brawl and soon he found himself working in the kitchen. Rita was quite happy with the man that el Monstruo was becoming; Grant was meek and mousy, while el Monstruo was quite the opposite. Her quiet satisfaction was interrupted when she heard el Monstruo yell out.

Rita rushed into the seaside condo and rapped on the bathroom door urgently.

“What’s wrong!” she asked, praying that there was nothing wrong at all. El Monstruo didn’t answer. “El-Mo, what’s wrong? I heard you yell.” She put her ear to the door and could hear sobbing. Her imagination painted the picture of a suicide; in her mind’s eye, Rita imagined el Monstruo laying in her tub with his wrists cut deeply. She couldn’t bear the idea of him giving up when everything was going so well. She started to open the door and el Monstruo slammed it shut, dropping his weight against it. Rita pounded on the door desperately.

“You can’t see!” said el Monstruo pleadingly, “I need to put my mask back on.” El Monstruo grabbed his mask and slid it over his head once more. He wrapped a towel around himself and opened the bathroom door to see Rita with tears in her eyes. She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed. He folded his arms around her waist and held her close.

“I was so worried about you.” she said while weeping. “I thought you killed yourself. I was so worried!”

“I’m sorry,” replied el Monstruo, “I just took my mask off.” El Monstruo’s voice trailed off as he lost himself in Rita’s embrace. She smelled nice, like she was kissed by the sun and massaged by the sea breeze. She took her arms from around his neck and took a step away. To el Monstruo, it seemed like she had suddenly became wary and frightened. In truth, she felt his hardening manhood pushing at her from beneath the towel and realized what she was doing. When he saw her turn away, el Monstruo apologized even though he was unsure what he was apologizing for.

“No, you don’t need to apologize. It isn’t your fault. It’s my fault. I just…” Rita’s voice faltered and she felt herself starting to panic. She didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything. The pair stood silently for a minute or more, searching for the right thing to say.

“This is awkward. I just don’t know what to say.” said Rita weakly.

“I’m sorry” responded el Monstruo, frustrating Rita. He turned to go back into the bathroom and Rita took a couple steps forward, and then she noticed that the mask was not tied. In the gaps between the laces, she saw that el Monstruo had black, curly hair and that his neck looked red in color. She stepped back, slightly shocked. El Monstruo shut the door and started to towel himself off. Rita tried to convince herself that el Monstruo’s skin wasn’t actually red under the mask. It’s just my imagination. He just Grant under that mask. But Grant didn’t have black hair.She was still thinking when el Monstruo came back out of the bathroom dressed in white linen shirt and pants.

“Thank you.” he said without much feeling. He tried to stride towards the door, but Rita stood in his way.

“What made you scream?” she asked him directly. Perhaps not the most tactful approach, but I need to know. I need to know what’s under that mask.

“Please don’t be afraid, and please, don’t tell anyone.” El Monstruo questioned his reasoning. He would show her what he saw, and hopefully she would still talk to him. Hopefully she will keep it secret. El Monstruo took off his mask, and Rita felt her knees buckle.

“What happened to you?” she asked as she studied el Monstruo’s face. It was deep red and his awkward smile exhibited a mouth filled with jagged fangs. A wiry beard was growing on his chin and his hair was matted. She could see tiny lumps emerging on his forehead.

“I don’t know.” said el Monstruo truthfully. Rita extended a hand to touch his face; her touch excited el Monstruo’s emotions. He hadn’t felt a woman’s hand on his face in so very long, however she withdrew her hand swiftly.

“Your face is scalding hot!” she exclaimed, trying to cool her hand by waving it about. El Monstruo’s head tipped downward and he felt something growing in his stomach. It was despair, hate, anger, and love all at once. He had truly become a monster; although he didn’t know how he became a monster, he knew how beautiful women usually treat monsters. He also knew how most stories about monsters normally ended. Rita considered what she should do next. She felt the urge to run from el Monstruo, but she also felt the need to help him. He looked at her sheepishly and simply said that he was sorry.  

The wind flooded over el Monstruo’s body. Sitting on a rocky over hang, he watched the swirl and rush of the incoming tide. He kept his baggy white linen pants clean by balling up his shirt and using it as a cushion. His muscles were relaxed, yet his mind was stirring as wildly as the ocean. Without a job, he wouldn’t be able to stay in Little Arkham much longer. If he couldn’t pay his rent, he would have to move back in with his mother. El Monstruo began to feel like he was a failure, just like Julie said he was. El Monstruo thought back to when he was Grant, to when he had goals and a future.

He wanted to be a physical therapist; he wanted to help people like a doctor would, but he didn’t want to see too much blood too regularly. He wanted to see people overcome their problems through his help. Julie liked that; she liked just about everything about him. His head dropped into his hands as tears welled up in his eyes. She had always been there for him, and he had always been there for her, but yet that wasn’t enough. Their dates would turn slowly into debates and their debates would quickly become arguments. Most nights together involved at least a little yelling. There was love in their relationship, but it was insignificant compared to the animosity that always dwelled just under the skin. He was uncertain why he asked her to marry him.

Was it because I thought it would let us overcome the widening gulf between us? Was it because I truly thought that love would conquer all? Or was it just because I knew that she was the only woman that would ever dare love me

? The cool breeze washed over his sun warmed skin. I can’t stay here much longer, or I’ll get a sunburn. A shadow fell over him and he looked up to see Rita silhouetted by the sun.

“Hey there, hero. What’s good?” she asked flippantly as she sat next to him. She was a contrast to his bulky form: short and nearly skeletal, except for a tiny bulging belly. Her hair was short and she smelled like the sun. Her smile brought a smile to el Monstruo’s face.

“I’m not much of a hero, and there’s not much good going on. I’m gonna need to leave soon.”

“Why soon?” asked Rita with concern.

“Because I have only two-thousand dollars left in the bank. It’s enough for a couple months, but then I’d be broke. I can’t get another job at the shops, and unless I finish classes when the fall hits, I’m heading down bum road.” Rita wanted to hug her friend, to pull him close and tell him everything was going to be fine. However, she also wanted to keep her distance from him; while she cared for him, she didn’t want to suddenly become his rebound girl.

“You could always get a job at one of the bars. I heard Arouna talking about your fight at the four S, and was wondering if you’d come in and be a bouncer for him. You know how it gets down at his place.” said Rita with a smile. She didn’t know if it was the best suggestion, but she felt compelled to make it. El Monstruo considered her suggestion with his thumb and index finger rubbing his chin. Rita watched him closely. She wasn’t sure what the whole mask business was about, but she knew it had something to do with his break-up with Julie. He didn’t seem like he went insane, but she wondered just the same. The wondered if he was even safe to be around.

“I’ll go talk to him about it.” said el Monstruo at last. He looked into Rita’s honey-brown eyes and saw love there, or at least concern. He stood up and grabbed his shirt from the ground and slid his arms into it. He looked at Rita’s thin, long legs as they took in the sun’s rays. He furtively studied her small breasts until her eyes again met his. “I might as well get going now, right?”

“Right, I guess.” answered Rita, still smiling. He saw him looking at her and felt equally awkward and flattered. He seemed to like what he saw, but it was hard to tell with the mask. She abruptly stopped her thoughts from wandering down that path. She didn’t want to be the rebound girl, and she didn’t want to be the girl going out with the guy in the mask. She watched as he left, his shirt still unbuttoned and flapping in the breeze.

El Monstruo walked the mile and a half to the piers. He looked at the myriad of restaurants and tourist shops. It wasn’t terribly unlike the street of shops he had worked on before, though it was a younger crowd at the piers. He made his way through the jungle of tourists and found Arouna’s bar and grill, The Freeky Tiki. He looked at the ramshackle place that was frequented only by tourists and let out a sigh; the decor was tacky and outdated, but the drinks were cheap and the food was serviceable. The dimly lit dining area was empty, while the bar featured a couple of guys who seemed far too young to be drinking downing shot after shot of a clear liquor. He assumed it was Zima.

“Hey! Look who it is! The Monster himself. How are you big guy?” Arouna’s smile was wide and yellowy and his African accented words spilled together musically. The tall barman gave el Monstruo a pat on the back and a shake of the hand, guiding him to a table in the corner. A busty statue of a hula girl stared down at the pair as Arouna laid out the terms of employment. “You come in around five, sit down, watch the TV and look like a mean man. Then, if anyone starts shit, you stop it. I don’t care if you bust their heads, just don’t damage any of the decor. This stuff’s not cheap you know?” El Monstruo stared in disbelief at the last statement, his mouth nearly dropping open in shock.

“The pay is all right. Eight-seventy usually, more now because of the tourists and the trouble they bring. There’s a room for you if you need it, and you get anything on the menu at half price, just no drinks.” It was well known that while Arouna served the cheapest liquor in town, he never drank it. He also expected that none of his workers would either. Arouna leaned back and folded his hands behind his head as he reclined. “Sound good, big guy?” asked Arouna.

“I need a job, so yeah.” replied el Monstruo unenthusiastically. Concern flashed across Arouna’s face.

“You aren’t happy to be working here?” he asked.

“I just don’t know what I want.” replied el Monstruo truthfully.

“Well, God says that if you don’t know what to do, don’t do anything. Think on it, big guy. If it’s for you, then you’ll see that soon enough.”

“Yeah, but I need the job now.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” said el Monstruo, all ready eyeing the young drunks at the bar. His fists balled tightly and veins began to bulge on the back of his hands.

“You only start at five,” reminded Arouna, “and you only stop what people start. Got it?” El Monstruo’s fists relaxed as he stood up.

“Maybe you should card those guys at the bar?” suggested el Monstruo.

“I all ready did.” assured Arouna. “Their I.D.’s were fine enough.”

EL Monstruo leered at the guys at the bar with contempt. He asked where his room was and Arouna showed it to him. Might as well save a few bucks and stay here. The room was small, with a bed, a closet, a bathroom, and a television. It wasn’t much, but it would be home.

Richard’s hands clasped each other tightly. Sitting at his desk, he studied Grant. His office seemed filled with Grant’s presence. A tiny fan oscillated in the corner, fighting against the summer heat. Joyce had come home quaking with fear earlier in the week. She felt like Grant was intimidating her, and she left it to Richard to address the problem. The pudgy, round man wringed his hands nervously. The stared at the eyes behind the mask; that seemed to be all that was left of the Grant that he hired four years ago.

“Grant,” started Richard. The masked man winced when he heard the name. His large hands clasped the arms of the chair he was seated on. The color seeped out of Richard’s face as he watched the man he knew as Grant stand up, nearly hitting his head on the low ceiling.

“I don’t use that name any more. I am now el Monstruo.” said el Monstruo in a gravelly voice. He felt his anger rising and worked to suppress it. “I see nothing wrong with the way I have been acting. I’m sorry if you think I did something wrong.” Richard smiled and bobbed his head like a horse. Richard was at a loss for words. Fear raced up and down his spine as he looked at el Monstruo’s arms; the shirt’s seams strained to contain the muscle bound frame of the man. The intensity of the moment shattered when both men heard Martha yell for help. El Monstruo crashed out of the office door to see a young man dressed in a polo shirt and a plastic Zorro mask tugging at the cash register’s open drawer.

Crime was not commonplace in the small seaside town of Little Arkham, though it was not terribly unusual for a trust fund punk to try a ’smash and grab’ robbery. Typically, the perpetrator would make off with twenty dollars and might end up getting a talking to by the police. However, the would-be robber that decided to thieve from Joyce and Richard’s Sea Side Shell Shop got much more than he bargained for. El Monstruo vaulted over the counter, kicking the thief in the jaw as he flew through the air. The thief recoiled as he heard the sound of his nose breaking as el Monstruo closed in on him with a right hook and an elbow. The young man threw a punch at el Monstruo, who dodged the punch and grabbed the thief by the forearm. Pulling the thief’s arm, everyone heard a sickening pop; el Monstruo let go of the arm and it dangled lifelessly at the thief’s side.

“Stop Grant!” yelled Richard. Tears dropped from Martha’s face as el Monstruo pulled at the collar of the thief’s shirt and tripped him, dropping him to the ground. El Monstruo buried his knee in his victim’s back and hooked an arm around his neck. El Monstruo pulled back with all his might, bowing the young man’s back unnaturally. Richard ran from the room and back to his office. He’d have to get the police to arrive quickly. When they did arrive, the young man was unconscious on the floor. El Monstruo had belted him hard across the back of his head and sent him into a dark, dreamless slumber. The officer worried that the boy was dead and threatened to arrest el Monstruo.

That night, Richard spoke to el Monstruo.

“I’m sorry, but even though it was a good thing, I can’t have you around. What if you killed him? You surely would have if the police didn’t show up. You’ll probably be charged with assault or something before this is all over. I’m sorry.” Richard waited in silence as el Monstruo’s fist clenched and un clenched.

“It was the right thing to do. What if he was armed, or worse?” replied el Monstruo.

“Nothing like that would happen around here.” insisted Richard.

“Not while I’m around.” interrupted el Monstruo. Richard watched as the man pulled off his green apron and tossed it onto the floor. El Monstruo left without another word or gesture. He walked out into the night, leaving the world he knew far behind.

————————————————————————————-

Grant was neither Mexican or a wrestler, but he loved the masks that Mexican wrestlers wear. He had fallen in love with the idea of becoming someone else, someone that is powerful and respected. That is why he started buying the masks; when he put them on, he felt like he was a hero. Although he was a student at the community college, he wasn’t too old to put on the mask and leap off the foot of his bed to come crashing down on the bed itself. He kept his infatuation hidden from his friends, his parents, his siblings, and even his girlfriend. Even when they were to be married, he kept his secret, but when he found out his fiancée was unfaithful to him, something snapped. He stopped being Grant, and he started being el Monstruo.

He ordered the mask custom made from the internet; it was red lycra with faux hair tumbling from its crown. White strips of vinyl were cut into the shape of fangs and bordered the opening for the mouth. The eye holes were bordered with black vinyl that gave the mask a concentrated, furious expression. When it arrived, Grant eagerly pulled it over his head. He dashed to the mirror and smiled happily for the first time in six weeks. He tugged at the laces, tightening the mask; tying the laces he marveled at himself.

“El Monstruo.” Grant said in his soft voice. That’s not the voice for me. I need something stronger. I need something grittier, more like gravel and less like pudding. He sneered and took a deep breath.

“I am el Monstruo.” said el Monstruo, rolling the r masterfully. El Monstruo spoke to himself in his deep, rich bass voice. He had to practice the language; he had to work today after all. He left the house, dressed in a white collared shirt and dark slacks. When he walked into the small gift shop, his co-workers looked at him suspiciously.

“What the heck are you doing? Who the hell are you, coming in here like that?” demanded Martha, the early morning clerk.

“I work here.” replied el Monstruo matter-of-factly as he made his way to the back room. Martha stared at him, astonished. She recognized the voice, but she refused to believe it was actually Grant. She knew that the break up with Kate had hit him hard, but she didn’t think he’d go this nuts. She shook her head when el Monstruo walked back out onto the sales floor wearing the green striped apron of an employee. She walked up to him scornfully.

“Enough with the joke Grant. This isn’t Halloween. This isn’t some freaky uptown record store. There’s no place for a costume here. Take that silly thing off.” Her condescending tone sawed into el Monstruo’s head. He wanted to grab Martha by the face and pull her tongue out; he wanted to pop her eyes with his fingers and crush her face. Instead, he just calmly said that his name wasn’t Grant anymore, and that she was to call him el Monstruo, or elMo for short. She just looked at him incredulously, then looked at his name tag.

“ElMo, huh? Well, I don’t know if Joyce and Richard will take kindly to that.” The door to the shop swung open as a small family of tourists walked in. El Monstruo smiled gleefully at them as they warily walked forward. The children smiled at him while the parents seemed to be afraid of contracting a disease from him.

“Hello folks!” he boomed happily, “A beautiful day today, huh?” El Monstruo thought it would be best if he tried to be as charming as possible. These people might not understand him if he were to just brood like he used to do. He didn’t want to seem like a freak. The parents feigned undivided interest in some painted shell ornaments while the children walked up to him.

“Mister!” said the shorter of the two boys, “Why are you wearing that?”

“Yeah. What’s with the mask; you ugly or something?” said the taller one. El Monstruo simply smiled and bent down to talk to the kids on their own level. His mind poured over the reasons for his transformation. Because I want to kill someone. Because I wanted to stop that feeling; I wanted to be someone else. I wanted to feel special again.

“I just wanted to do something different today.” he said. It wasn’t a lie, nor was it the truth. It was a good part of the truth. Just then, one of the owners came in. Joyce was dressed very professionally in a pink pencil skirt and a matching blazer. Her hair was well managed, though the style was dated and overly large. She nearly screeched in terror when she saw el Monstruo. She kept her cool; there were customers in the store, and there would be a better time to admonish Grant for his tomfoolery. Martha looked at Joyce helplessly, trying to wordlessly explain the scene.

El Monstruo walked over to the father of the family and made some small talk about the fishing down by the pier. Soon, he found out that the family were on vacation and had traveled from Connecticut to Little Arkham for a bit of rest and relaxation. He made some suggestions about restaurants. After they were out of the shop, he smirked at Joyce and Martha, who were astounded that he sold the family over one-hundred and forty dollars worth of post cards, souvenirs, t-shirts, and books about Little Arkham’s history as a fishing village.

Joyce’s disdain for Grant’s new mask faded as the sales climbed. Grant had become like a new person; he was out going and gregarious. The tourists seemed to love his outlandish mask, and soon he was the talk of the long line of shops that dotted the street. She was surprised to see how much better Grant had become as a worker.

“Maybe I should get Martha a mask like that. She could use a few more sales. You did great today Grant.” congratulated Joyce with a smile.

“I’m not Grant.” replied el Monstruo reproachfully.

“You can cut the act Grant. The day’s over.”

“It isn’t an act!” shouted el Monstruo as he pounded his fist into the counter. Joyce seemed to shrink slightly. She never noticed how big Grant was; his frame was huge and he seemed to fill up half of the tiny shop. He loomed over her with rage bubbling under his mask. The anger faded like a summer shower as he kindly asked if she wanted him to come in early on the weekend, because it would be very busy. Joyce, intimidated and confused didn’t answer.

“I guess we’ll see how things go, huh?” el Monstruo said with cheer. “I’ll see you tomorrow, boss!” he said with a wave as he walked out into the night. The shop seemed like an airplane hanger with el Monstruo gone. Joyce shook with fear. She couldn’t work with him again; she was used to being in charge, but Grant’s new demeanor was more than she could handle. Pensive, she reflected that it was more of a new persona than a new demeanor. She convinced herself that Richard would know what to do.