A light fog nestled its way through town. Crickets chirped and a gentle breeze rustled the tree leaves. The air was cool and refreshing, and quite a few folks were out and about, walking or reclining at benches.
A few folks walked on the sidewalk right outside The Midnight Flower. The taller companion snickered, “What was Cloyce rambling about?”
A short fellow with a bent antenna tossed his head back and snorted, “I have no idea. I wasn’t listening to him!”
They passed by an old lady, who admonished them. “Cut it out, you two. You know how jumpy Cloyce gets at night time.” Despite her words, she gave them a smile.
The others laughed. “He must’ve had an awful nightmare, the way he was babbling about monsters or whatever.”
Faint noises filled the still night. The villagers perked up, trying to listen to the sounds.
Suddenly Cloyce flew over the fence that bordered The Midnight Flower, his eyes wide. “Run!”
Giggling and eye-rolling met Cloyce's words.
CRASH!
Fence pieces and leaf matter exploded around the townsolk. A hulking, dripping monstrous thing erupted from the forest, sending globs of something everywhere. The villagers scattered away as the older lady grimaced, pulling gooey strands out of her hair, as the melting thing pursued Cloyce.
Cloyce ran here and there, bumping into anything and everything in sight. Othmer followed, knocking others to their feet and whipping around trees and trashcans, scattering their contents into the street.
Marigold, Errol, and Claudette emerged from behind The Midnight Flower. Panting, Errol and Claudette leaned against each other. They surveyed the damage left in Othmer’s path. Marigold, eyes wide, whipped her head back and forth, trying to find Cloyce and Othmer. She spied the two running around a parked car. Othmer barreled against it and it slammed into the pavement. Marigold chased after them.
Claudette heaved herself to her feet and started to follow Marigold, but Errol pulled her back.
“Wait! We need a plan,” he pointed out.
“Huh? We don’t have time for that!” Claudette replied as she gestured to the damage.
“Then how do you plan on capturing Othmer?”
Shrugging, Claudette rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something!”
Errol pulled his gloves on tighter. Grimacing, he rummaged around in a nearby garbage can. “Let’s think of something now, something that will work. Aha!”
Wrinkling his nose, Errol used a piece of cloth to pull an old tattered banner out of the trash. “Let’s get ahead of him,” he said with determination in his voice. “We can try to trip him and slow him down at least.”
Othmer chased Cloyce into a narrow, dark alley. Cloyce skidded to a halt at the end. There was no way out. He tried in vain to scramble up the brick walls, but only succeeded in ripping his gloves and sleeves. Shaking like a leaf in the wind, Cloyce hunkered down and shielded himself with his arms. “P-please don’t hurt me!” he whimpered.
There were no thoughts in Othmer’s head, just a steady, silent desire to hurt Cloyce. The images of a destroyed book and Marigold scouring newspapers for available jobs swam in his head. He growled at Cloyce and took one step closer. Cloyce yipped and ducked lower.
A new figure stepped into the entry to the alley. Cloyce’s antennae pricked with relief as he recognized the figure.
“Marigold! Save me!” Cloyce called.
Othmer swirled around. Marigold stood a few feet away from him, the breeze tugging at her dress and swirling her hair around her face.
Othmer stepped toward Marigold. She extended her arms and breathed, “I’m here.”
The distance between Othmer and Marigold began to close.
Cloyce’s eyes widened. He cried, “Marigold, stop it! You’ll get hurt!”
Cloyce wasn’t too keen on finding out what the monster planned to do to Marigold. He gulped, wishing that Othmer, or even Errol or Claudette, were here to tell him what to do. Cloyce squeezed his eyes shut. Well, he was alone now, and had to think of what to do without anyone’s help. Opening his eyes, Cloyce looked around his scant surroundings. He crawled on his hands and knees to find anything that might help. He trembled as he tried to grab different items, but nothing seemed suitable for this situation. His head throbbed and his vision swam. The monster was only a foot away from Marigold now. He had to do something, and fast. Marigold didn’t deserve to die like this.
A gentle smile spread across Marigold’s face. Othmer gazed back at her, and his shape started to shift. Had she reached through to him? She hoped so. She was ready to go home, to have the old Ottie back. She now knew what she wanted to tell him, that she didn’t need the fame or notoriety that Ottie assumed his experiment would earn. She knew he’d always want to work on new ideas and inventions, but maybe, she mused, he could scale his dreams down to more manageable things. Ottie had always said that having a self-operating vacuum cleaner would be a nifty idea. Marigold reached to touch what she assumed to be his cheek and whispered, “Ottie. Let’s go home.”
Meanwhile, Cloyce spied something he thought might help. He grabbed the object and muttered, “I’ve done nothing selfless in my life. That changes today!”
Springing forward, Cloyce landed on Othmer’s back. Cloyce held a shard of glass high in the air. “Run, Marigold!” he screamed, plunging the glass in Othmer’s neck.
Othmer reared and bucked, but Cloyce was determined to keep his hold.
Marigold’s heart stopped and her skin turned to ice. She picked up trash and flung it at Cloyce, screaming, “Get off him! It’s Othmer!”
Marigold threw an old toy wagon wheel, a glass cup, an ugly old hat. “Get outta here!” she screeched.
“You first!” Cloyce yelled.
Marigold didn’t pay attention to the next thing she grabbed. All she wanted was to dislodge Cloyce off her husband. She lifted the object behind her head and aimed for Cloyce. “Stop it now!” she screamed.
The object connected with Cloyce’s head. It snapped his head back with a crack, and he tumbled off Othmer and flopped to the ground.
Othmer collapsed, coughing up ink and shrinking. Marigold rushed to his side. Ink gushed out of the neck wound Cloyce had made.
Marigold draped herself over Othmer. She sobbed, “Stand up, Ottie! I’ve got to get you to a hospital.”
Othmer smiled at her. His flesh fell off faster now. He slowly returned to his old form. “Marigold? You’re still here?” he whispered. Their was a brief pause, and Marigold saw his eyebrows furrow with concentration. He coughed. "Marigold. I can't believe you're still here, after everything...everything that I put you through."
Marigold bit her lip. She was unsure how to respond, or what to say. She quietly breathed, “Yes. I’m here.”
Othmer strained to hold his head up, but failed. He closed his eyes and whispered, “Marigold…I’m very lucky.”
“I’d say differently. You need to get up now!”
Othmer opened one eye at her. “I’ve been very lucky,” he repeated. “To have had such a friend and wife like you.”
Marigold leaned close to his face, gulping. “Don’t talk like that. We need to get help, then we can go home and forget all this!”
Othmer closed his eye again. More ink flowed out of his wound. “I can’t, Marigold. Everything feels fuzzy.” He let out a long sigh. “I’m so sorry, Marigold. All I wanted was to make our lives better, in every way possible. But I didn’t do that.” His voice shook and he opened his eyes a bit, trying to focus on Marigold. “I made your life worse. I was so self-absorbed that I never even…never even took the time to ask what you wanted.” He smiled. “I should’ve listened to Errol. I should’ve listened to you.”
His eyes closed again and he murmured, “I’m sorry, Marigold. Destroy my notes and studies. I don’t want anyone else to suffer this fate.”
Marigold shook her head, tears running down her cheeks. She sobbed, “What are you saying?”
Othmer sighed, “I’m saying, I love you, Marigold. I’m sorry.”
His head lolled to one side. His eyes opened slightly, but there was an undeniable film over them, and they gazed at nothing. Rain began to fall, but went unnoticed by Marigold.
Errol and Claudette rushed down the alley. Sweat slicked their hair back and their clothes were rumpled and torn. They carried a banner between them. Claudette called, “Stand clear, Marigold!”
They skidded to a halt upon noticing Othmer’s still body.
Claudette stared at her end of the banner, then tossed it at Errol. “I guess we don’t need this,” she muttered.
Errol shook himself free of the banner and kicked it behind him. Gazing at Marigold, he absentmindedly brushed dirt and debris off his suit. Even after cleaning it up a bit, he continued with his rhythmic brushing. Errol gulped, “Is he…”
Marigold bit her lip. “He’s dead,” she answered in a flat voice.
Lighting flashed behind them and illuminated Othmer’s body.
Errol’s brushing slowed a bit and he shook his head, sighing, “Oh, Othmer.”
“Do you want me to get help?” Claudette murmured, kneeling beside Marigold and wrapping one wing around Marigold’s side.
Eyes wide, Marigold flinched away. “No. I mean, I don’t know.”
Errol stepped over to Cloyce, who was still slumped on the ground. He pressed his finger tips to Cloyce’s neck, and that’s when he saw the brick beside Cloyce’s head. He blinked. The back of Cloyce’s head was almost parallel with Cloyce’s shoulders. Errol turned away and announced, “Cloyce is dead.”
A low wail escaped Marigold, and she buried her face in Claudette’s arms. Another bolt of lightning scratched a jagged path through the sky.
Claudette patted Marigold’s back, asking, “Did Othmer kill him?”
Marigold shook her head. “I didn’t mean to! I was just trying to get him off Ottie. I didn’t want to hurt him!” Marigold stared wildly around, repeating, “I didn’t want to kill Cloyce!”
“Be still!” Claudette ordered and gripped Marigold’s shoulders in an attempt to calm her. “We know you didn’t mean to kill him!”
Marigold covered her face with her hands and mumbled through her fingers, “Everyone in Pine Hollow knew how much I couldn’t stand Cloyce. They’ll think I killed him on purpose!”
Marigold stood and braced herself against Claudette, who now had a wing draped over Marigold’s shoulders. Marigold started smoothing out her inky dress over and over again, wailing, “Nobody will believe me!”
Errol reached for Marigold’s hands, and finally grabbed them after several misses. He held them close. “We’ll vouch for you, Marigold!”
She ripped her hands away to continue smoothing out her stained dress. “But neither of you were witnesses. Everyone will think I killed them both!” Marigold looked at her dress, which was still stained with ink and flesh. She gulped. “I can’t stay here.”
Lighting ripped through the sky again. Marigold spun around. Claudette reached for her and called, “Wait!”
It was too late. Marigold disappeared around The Midnight Flower. Errol and Claudette scrambled after her. They sprinted around the restaurant, but Marigold had vanished in the dark forest. Errol and Claudette exchanged a glance. Errol opened his mouth, but shouts from behind him made him snap it shut. A barrage of toons erupted around Errol and Claudette. Errol craned his head over the throng, and spied Marigold’s silhouette far off between the trees. It swerved between the plants and disappeared in the darkness. The rain fell harder, flattening the antennae and wings of the onlookers. Errol’s and Claudette’s clothes became sopping wet. Officers, reporters, and locals filed into the alley, and some surrounded Errol and Claudette. They pushed into him, forcing him to squeeze against Claudette. Errol closed his eyes and escaped into the darkness.