Fangboy (2 page)

“We’ve got to cushion the blow
somehow
,” Samuel insisted. “I understand that we both love him, but he’s a disturbing sight! We’re lucky there isn’t a whole line of reporters outside of our house.” Samuel glanced at the front window to confirm that there actually wasn’t, then continued. “What we should do is make him sound
worse
than he really is. Maybe imply that he has a forked tongue or a mouth on his stomach. Do something that makes people sigh with relief when it’s only sharp teeth.”

“There is absolutely no way I’m going to spread rumors that our son has a mouth on his stomach.”

“Okay, yes, you’re right, that was a poor suggestion, but what if we—?”

“My parents will be here in three days,” said Ellen. “We’ll test their reaction.”

Samuel sighed, then nodded. “That sounds fair.”

* * *

Ellen’s comment that nobody would scream turned out to be incorrect.

TWO

“He’s a monster!” screamed Helena, Ellen’s mother, clutching at her heart. “A horrible beast!”

Helena had been polite at first. A smile, a coo, a barely audible whisper of congratulations, and then, after a moment of rather distinct lip-twitching, she proceeded to engage in the aforementioned screaming.

She was not a woman to scream easily (and had not, in fact, been one of Samuel’s four predictions). She was a strict woman, yet a fair one. Stern yet nurturing. Rude yet usually correct. Samuel would have expected a response of “My goodness, what
is
that grotesque creature you have wrapped in the light blue blanket?” The shrieking was a surprise.

Ellen burst into tears and ran into the bedroom, taking Nathan with her. She slammed the door shut.

Martin, Samuel’s father-in-law, scratched nervously at his elbow. “I didn’t actually get to see anything,” he said. “What was the issue?”

Helena started to answer, but then collapsed upon the sofa. “I need a glass of water before I faint,” she said, gasping three times while speaking the sentence.

Samuel was more inclined to just let her faint, but he went into the kitchen and got her a glass of lukewarm water from the faucet. He handed it to her without a word. She took a small sip and set the glass on the coffee table.

“Samuel, what have you and my daughter done?”

“We had a child.”

“That’s no child. That is
not
my grandson. What happened? Did he die in the womb?”

“He’s not a zombie baby!” Samuel insisted. “The teeth surprised everybody, but I swear to you, apart from that abnormality he’s perfectly normal. Everything he’s done for these past three days has been what we’d expect a baby to do. I had problems with the situation myself, but Nathan is no monster.”

Helena took another sip of water. “Destroy it.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Smother it.”

“
No!
”

“Samuel, that child will cause you nothing but misery. Look at the way my hand is shaking. Have you ever known my hand to shake?”

“No, but—”

“That boy is evil.”

“He’s not evil.”

“You can’t guarantee that.”

“He’s done nothing evil. Believe me, I understand how you’re feeling. I’d thought about taking a shovel to him myself. But regardless of his appearance, he is our child, and we love him, and you’re going to have to respect that.”

Martin stepped toward the bedroom. “Perhaps I should take a look.”

“Don’t you dare!” said Helena. “I won’t have you haunted as I am!” She gulped down the rest of the water then looked at Samuel with pleading eyes. “Get rid of it. If you won’t kill it, put it up for adoption. Don’t taint the family name with that monstrosity. You’re young. There will be other babies. If you got started now you could have one before next summer. Please. You must understand that the baby in my daughter’s arms was not meant to exist.”

Samuel cleared his throat as he worked up his courage. “Helena, you are no longer welcome in our home.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You don’t have to love your grandson, or even not be afraid of him, but you
do
have to understand that he is our son. When you decide to respect that, we’d love to have you as a houseguest, but until that time, I would like to request that you get the hell out.”

Helena gave him a look of such intense rage that Samuel felt his resolve drain away like wax from a candle dangling over a volcano. “How dare you use the h-word when speaking to me? I’m trying to keep you and Ellen from ruining your lives!”

“Our lives will be fine,” Samuel said. “I need you to leave.”

“I’ll send people. I’ll send people to take him away.”

“If you do, I’ll kill you.”

Helena gaped at him. “Do you see what has happened? Just living with the child for these few days has made you insane! This is absolute madness!”

“Okay, I really need to see this kid for myself,” said Martin. He marched over to the door, knocked twice, and walked into the bedroom. Fifteen seconds later he emerged and returned to the living room. “Helena, I would like to leave now.”

Helena stood up. “Samuel, I beg of you—”

“I mean it,” said Samuel. “If you send anybody to take Nathan away, I will kill you. Not violently or painfully, but trust me when I say that you will at least be poisoned.”

“Very well. If you choose to throw your lives away on this creature, then the decision is yours. Do not expect support of any kind from me.”

She left the house without a word.

Martin had to make three trips to carry out the suitcases they’d brought in, so his exit was less dramatic, but soon he was gone as well. Ellen emerged from the bedroom as they drove off, holding sleeping Nathan in her arms, her face stained with tears.

“I’m sorry,” said Samuel. “I was not polite to your mother.”

Ellen sniffled, then gave her husband a sad smile. “It’s all right. We can do this on our own.”

* * *

Helena did not send anybody to take Nathan away. Upon further thought, Samuel had decided that he probably wouldn’t actually murder her if she did, but it was nice to not have to make a final decision on the matter.

Samuel and Ellen vowed to give their son a normal life, although they settled on giving him a normal life except for the almost complete lack of social interaction. Apart from Dr. Thompson’s regular visits, nobody ever saw the boy. When he got old enough to crawl, Samuel built a fence around their yard, where Nathan could happily scoot through the grass without the neighbors catching a glimpse of his teeth. Though it wasn’t ideal, it was better than locking him in a basement, and much better than having torch-wielding villagers surround their home.

It was with a great deal of relief that Samuel came to accept that Nathan’s teeth were the only odd thing about him. Otherwise, the boy was healthy, alert, and happy. He did bite his tongue on a couple of occasions, which caused the child to scream in agony, but nothing was ever severed. And though it took him longer to start forming words than the average toddler, that was only to be expected.

“It took me longer than average to start speaking, and that’s only because one of my eyes was crossed until I was six,” Samuel noted. “We can’t hold that against the boy.”

On his fourth birthday, Ellen and Samuel thought long and hard about how Nathan should receive his education. They knew that he had to be integrated into society at some point, but Ellen was reluctant.

“What if the other kids make fun of him?” she asked.

“They will,” said Samuel. “That’s a given. But I suspect that if he bites one of them, he won’t be made fun of multiple times.”

“He shouldn’t have to bite people to keep his dignity.”

“All kids get made fun of. He might as well have something genuinely weird about him; otherwise they’ll just make things up to ridicule.”

“What if he bites another student and the parents sue? Most children can barely break the skin, much less come away with a mouthful of flesh.”

“You’re right. We’ll make sure he’s aware that it’s wrong to bite.”

“I don’t know,” said Ellen. “I think it may be too much for him. Why can’t we wait until his baby teeth fall out? For all we know, his real teeth will grow in normally, and we’d have created all of that mental scarring for nothing.”

“What’s going to damage him more? Kids making fun of him for having sharp teeth, or spending his entire childhood alone with his parents?”

“Kids making fun of him.”

“I don’t think that’s correct.”

“I can’t do it,” Ellen said. “Kids are cruel. I can’t subject him to that. Maybe when he’s five.”

* * *

Nathan traced his finger along the words on the page. “…to the story.”

“To the
store
,” Ellen corrected.

Nathan frowned. “Why?”

“Because the ‘e’ is silent.”

Nathan gave her a
that’s really stupid
look. “Why can’t
I
ever go to the store?”

“We’ve already talked about this.”

“But why can’t I?”

“Because, sweetheart. People are mean.”

“You’re not mean.”

“I’m sorry, not everybody is mean, but some people are. You don’t want people to be mean to you, do you?”

“Why would they be mean to me?”

“You know.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“My teeth?”

Ellen nodded.

“I’m not scared of that.”

“Well, Mommy is. Mommy doesn’t want you to get hurt. I’m here to protect you. Okay?”

Nathan lowered his eyes. “Okay.”

* * *

“I’m taking him out.”

“Samuel, no!”

“He can do whatever he wants today.” Samuel looked at Nathan across the dinner table. “Nathan, what did you say you wanted to do for your sixth birthday?”

“Go someplace.”

“It’s unconscionable to keep him locked away like this. I’m not going to let it happen anymore. Nathan, show Mommy how you smile when you’re not at home.”

Nathan looked at Ellen and gave her a smile, keeping his lips together.

“Show her how you talk.”

“Hi, Mommy,” said Nathan, speaking so that his lips barely moved. “You look nice today.”

“Nobody will ever know,” Samuel insisted.

“He’s only six,” said Ellen. “He can’t completely control his smiles.”

“You can’t tell him what to do on his birthday. We’re just going to go down to the store and buy a huge bag of candy. I promise that nothing will happen to him.”

Ellen continued to protest, but Samuel didn’t listen. The way they raised their son was appalling. Nathan had to be able to leave the house once in a while. Ellen would see; they’d go to the store, come back without incident, and she’d realize that there was no reason to worry so much.

“If you give me a night to sleep on it, I’m sure I’ll be fine with the idea. I know you’re right. I just need a little more time.”

Samuel sighed. His concern was that in the morning Ellen would decide that this was the worst idea imaginable, and she’d beg to wait until Nathan’s seventh birthday before letting him interact with other people. Samuel wasn’t going to wait another year. He was going to do this even if he had to sneak Nathan out of the house under the cover of night.

However, one more day couldn’t hurt. “Okay,” he said.

“Do I still get candy?” Nathan asked.

“Yes indeed,” said Samuel. “First thing tomorrow.”

* * *

It is important to note that what happened next was not suicide. Ellen Pepper was not a depressed woman. She was actually a very cheerful, upbeat woman, who was simply insanely overprotective and concerned about her son being subjected to harm. She would never use the word “freak,” but others would, and the idea of other kids (or even adults) staring at Nathan, or pointing at him and laughing, or—God forbid—trying to hurt him because of his frightening appearance was more than she could bear.

But Samuel was right. They couldn’t hide him away forever.

Tomorrow she’d come with them and keep a watchful eye on anybody who approached. Maybe everything would be fine.

Ellen did not go to bed unhappy. She was merely distracted.

She turned on the gas stove with the intention of boiling some water for a cup of tea to help her sleep. The flame didn’t ignite, and she decided that she didn’t feel like having the tea. She remembered—distinctly but incorrectly—shutting off the gas. She’d turned it off most of the way, but the knob hadn’t quite clicked.

She even thought about it right before she fell asleep.
Did I shut off the stove
? She was about to get up and check, but Samuel was a light sleeper and it would wake him up, and if she concentrated really hard she did remember turning the knob back to “off.” No need to worry. She went to sleep in her husband’s arms.