did! Perhaps —’ He paused before suggesting Zoe might be able to help, because (a) he didn’t want Kyle moving in on his would-be wife, and (b) Matt didn’t feel Kyle would be receptive to the idea right at this instant.
When Matt refrained from further comment, Kyle looked back to the spectacular electrical storm that was now almost directly above them.
‘There must be another way,’ he said quietly to himself, as the lightning flashed, the thunder boomed and the rain came bucketing down.
BIRTH OF A HERO
Matt pulled the car into the curb in front of Kyle’s rundown, single-storey terrace. The overgrown vegetation in the tiny front garden was beginning to envelop the house; Kyle had never cut it back because he liked the privacy it provided. The rent on the place was cheap, as the building should really have been condemned. In fact, it was probably only the weeds that held the structure together.
‘I’ll catch ya.’ Kyle waved to Matt and closed the car door behind him. Although the rain was pouring down, he didn’t run for shelter. Kyle found the large, cool droplets beating down upon his body invigorating.
Overhead, a large dark cloud seemed to rumble and looking up, Kyle was amazed to see a bolt of lightning lash out and strike the ground somewhere in the vicinity of his porch.
‘Awesome! Did you see that?’ As he swung round quickly to catch Matt’s reaction, the car took off up the road. ‘I guess not.’ Kyle opened the rusty old gate and fought his way through the jungle to investigate the spot where the lightning had hit.
At the top of the steps, on the small porch, Kyle could see a brown paper parcel and for the slightest moment he could have sworn that a small, brown, furry creature, no taller than ten centimetres, was seated atop the package — as if guarding it. A spear in one hand, it appeared to be not unlike a small bear. It stood erect and had horns protruding from the brow of its rather ugly, flat face. Upon discovery, however, it jumped down behind the parcel and out of sight.
Kyle dashed up the steps and grabbed the package, half expecting to expose the little beast.
‘One of these days,’ he mumbled, finding nothing.
From as far back as Kyle dared to remember, he’d been visited by these unearthly creatures. Over the course of several unsympathetic sets of foster parents, he’d been beaten or drugged into believing they were imaginary. He recalled conversing with some of them when he was very young. Most were tiny, but Kyle recalled one in particular that had seemed like an absolute giant to a three year old. Nevertheless, the monster hadn’t intimidated Kyle; rather, he recalled having a fast friendship with the beast he called Ron. That is, until he’d been forced to take pills that made Ron and all the little monsters go away. These days Kyle’s only interest in them was for their artistic value — they made great subject matter for sketching.
With the defining features of the creature committed to his memory, Kyle’s attention turned to the parcel in his hands. There was no postage stamp attached, no mailing address or sender’s details.
All that was written upon it was ‘Kyle’.
After consuming half a microwave pizza and a couple of cans of bourbon and coke, Kyle took up the joint he’d made while waiting for the food to cook. It was a large Bob Marley number, which he sniffed and rolled in his fingers like a fine cigar, before he placed it between his lips and struck up a light. Kyle puffed away merrily for a few moments, then, finding his inspiration, he took up his pad and pencil and began to sketch.
After a while, Kyle became aware that he was frowning; his head had shrunk into his shoulders and he was feeling genuinely agitated. ‘Rap music,’ he shuddered, hitting the off button on the television remote. As he looked around for the stereo remote, his eyes fell upon the brown paper parcel that he’d dropped in the other armchair on