Two Egg

by Alyssa Jordan

In the abandoned town of Two Egg, a monster tended to each home.

He no longer used his name. It didn’t seem right to keep it since the last resident had died. Sometimes, on good days, he liked to think of himself as the Caretaker.

Cleaning the houses and mowing the lawns had become a full-time job. The Caretaker thought it was the least he could do for the former residents.

One had fallen after the other. Their bones had turned to honeycomb. They had developed abscesses like gaping maws. Some had burns that felt hotter than sun fire.

It wasn’t until the Caretaker had seen Ava glow in the dark that he finally understood. A curse or a plague wasn’t responsible for the devastation of Two Egg.

#

When they met, Ava hadn’t screamed or tried to run. She had bent down and watched as he dove into the bushes. Bright, brassy hair framed her head like the shell of an apple.

“You don’t have to be scared,” she had said in a reasonable voice.

Who was this crazy kid? he had thought.

“You’re supposed to run from monsters,” he had called out in a rusty voice.

The girl-that-would-be-Ava had only shrugged. “Even monsters have to eat.”

#

There was no moon in the cave system deep within the woods. As the Caretaker descended deeper into the dark, tears filled his eyes, and he cried for all the people he had inadvertently killed.

None of them deserved it.

He stopped in a small chamber that held old books and blankets. He traced pages that had once provided him with an escape from the cavernous gloom, save for the sparse outings to the surface.

Why did you go above!? he screamed into the abyss.

Normally, it was a slow process to shed his shell. This time, he ripped pieces of skin from his body, howling from the pain. He passed out with a suit of blood and fat at his feet. Wakefulness came as it always did. Then, he looked at the body he truly owned, the one with a glow to disturb the dark.

Something scattered as he drew near.

#

Months after the last resident had died, the Caretaker returned to Two Egg. If he had to guess, though, it could have been years; he was overwhelmed by the sheer silence of the town.

Before, it had always sung with vitality, the kind that used to make him marvel (for which Ava teased him relentlessly).

She used to grab his hand and lead him through Main Street. Although some were wary of an outsider — even one with a human shell — most of the residents had treated him with friendly curiosity. Some had offered him stone fruit and smoky meat and whipped eggs. Once, Ava had convinced him to try a floral candy that burst with flavor.

Now, he studied the empty post office, the market, and of course, the houses.

He stopped by a square one made of bricks. In the past, roses had dotted the front yard. The grass had been well-trimmed. The bird fountain had run clear.

An elderly man by the name of Mr. Greer had lived there all his life. Aside from Ava, Mr. Greer had been the first person to treat the Caretaker with compassion.

He stood in front of Mr. Greer’s rotting yard. He looked at the dry bird fountain and the overgrown grass.

In the garden shed, he found a pair of shears. He got to work.

#

When not tending to the houses, he sat in the back of the market and read donated books. It was hard to focus without the sounds of people, so he would often hum or sing under his breath.

#

At each home, the Caretaker greeted the residents as if they were still there. He could see their faces in his mind, and he hoped that would never change.

#

He put off visiting Ava’s home for as long as he could. Unlike the others, it was too hard to imagine her gap-toothed smile, the artwork she proudly hung on the fridge. The parents that had loved her and only wanted the best for her.

The monster she had begged them to help because she was kind, and the parents that were kind, too.

#

Every day, the Caretaker maintained one of the homes in Two Egg.

He admired and grieved for the people that had lived in each house. He didn’t know where they were now, but he hoped it was just as lovely as they had been.