A Self Made Monster Read Online Free PDF

from his bottom lip. “Damn, I forgot.”
    “Happens,” Edward smiled, gathered his purchases. “Later.”
    Still hiding behind the tree, Alex mouthed a silent “Until next time,” as Edward passed.

Chapter Seven: This is Your Brain on Bad Blood

    “Studyin’ late, aren’t you?” The maintenance man pushed the door back until the door’s hydraulic arm stiffened enough to hold the door in place.
    Edward glanced at his watch: 12:15. “You’re working late yourself.”
    “At least I get overtime. You probably noticed that the lights around here ain’t for shit.” He dragged a step ladder into the classroom. “We got to get everything right for the big occasion.”
    “What’s that?”
    The man stepped up the ladder and removed the opaque plastic cover from the light bay. “Somethin’ to do with a parent/student weekend. Didn’t you come to the college when you was a high school senior to check out the college?” He gingerly removed the dead fluorescent tube.
    “No.”
    “Well, that’s what’s startin’ this Saturday, and we got five days to get this place shiny.” He placed a new tube into the bay, replaced the plastic cover. “I been working since eight this morning. And when I get done with that—” He pointed at several fluorescent tubes, upright in a long cardboard box. “—I gotta polish the floor. And startin’ tomorrow, I got to paint the hallway.” He yawned, almost lost his balance. “But I need that overtime money bad.”
    The yawn was contagious. Edward looked at his textbook through tired, watering eyes. He still had a chapter to read. “Yeah. I still have work to do myself, but I need some coffee to keep going.”
    The man put his palms to his temples and groaned.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Damn headaches.” The man stepped carefully off the ladder. “Campus doctor says they’re clump headaches, I mean cluster headaches. They come on faster than hell.”
    Sympathy and wariness mingled in Edward. He was sorry that the man was in pain, but he did not want to hear about the man’s problems. “Do you have aspirin?” he asked. Edward hoped the man would answer “Yes” and leave.
    “They don’t help much. I’m supposed to take medication but I left it at home.” He squeezed his head. The skin above his right eye was reddening, as if smeared with pepper juice. “Advil and aspirin help if I take ‘em together, but—” He stopped squeezing his head, made a gesture of despair. “I don’t have any with me.”
    “That’s too bad,” Edward mumbled. He quickly stood up. “Well, time for me to get coffee.”
    Alex rotated his wrist, trying to read his watch in the rays of a distant vapor lamp. The watch seemed to announce 12:35, but Alex’s increasingly poor eyesight made him uncertain. Alex was at least certain that he parked his car in the corner of the gym parking lot at 12:15, put on his latex gloves, and placed the plastic bag in the maintenance shed. He had been waiting at least fifteen minutes. Where the hell was the kid? Dozens of bad scenarios raced through his imagination. Edward Head was sick. He had found a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. Maybe he had smoked too much grass and was now slumped in a chair, listening to rock CD’s. Or he had fallen asleep while studying, nose flattened against the desk. Maybe he had tripped in the darkened stairwell, broken his leg, and was shouting for help.
    Alex again tried to read his wristwatch. He was about to take a few steps out of the oaks when he heard approaching steps.
    There he was. Hands stuffed in his red Tailor College jacket, head down against the cold. He was in a hurry. He walked more quickly than usual, as if impatient to get his coffee.
    Monster and victim nearly brushed shoulders, then the victim was a yard beyond the tree, hands still in his jacket pockets. The monster supposed he was rather humane to let Edward enjoy a last cup of coffee. Soon the victim reappeared on the tracks. In a minute the footsteps