LJI Wk17? Vigilance

"Hello there Desiree, do you remember me? I'm Doctor Mena, a psychiatrist here in Oakwood," the man, dressed in JC Penny's best combination of slacks, shirt, and tie topped off with white coat, asked in a bored tone. He rifled through a clipboard full of forms as if the answers could magically appear on the papers instead of from Mouse herself. Or require any exertion on his part.

"I apologize, it says here you prefer Mouse? -- yes? Is that the nickname your father gave you?" At her nod, Dr. Mena continued: "The children's court hired me to evaluate what happened, if you will, leading up to and through the events. Do you understand this, Mouse?"

"Yes," Mouse offered shyly. The teen might not know this doctor, but she understood this man was not her friend, and she needed to be careful if she didn't want to fall into any traps. It wasn't like she was a fan of straight-jackets -- or rubber rooms.

The room she's in was standard institutional issue. The walls were painted an over-stocked blue, with white vinyl baseboards (easier for cleaning bodily fluids), white tile floors and sickly yellow, overhead lighting. There were personal touches, photographs, plants (Mouse reached out and touched one - plastic, ugh. The paranoid kids would be checking plants for a microphone or camera, Mouse didn't care.), and neutral-art work meant to soothe the afflicted.

Mouse stayed in plenty of places like this in her fourteen years. Orphanages. Zoos for unwanted children, some even came equipped with bars. Whether to keep the kids from getting out, or to warn potential adopters away, no one knew.

The doctor's voice broke through her fugue. "Do you know why?"

Mouse focused, and asked Dr. Mena to repeat the question.

"Very well, Mouse. Why did you throw those ashtrays, darts, and almost boiling water at your father? Why did you suddenly use violence against him? From what your brother and cousin say, you were always meek around your father. Walked on eggshells so to speak." Here Dr. Mena paused, and looked her in the eyes for the first time since she entered the room. "Do you know why, Mouse? Why you threw those things? Can you help me understand?"

Mouse started quietly at first. " I was coming home from babysitting and I could hear Pop going after my little brother from halfway down the block. I just couldn't handle it anymore, and I, uh, I sorta didn't think about it. When I just picked it up and threw it at him. It connected too." Mouse's voice quavered with anger.

"I could tell it shocked him. I mean, he hesitated long enough for me to get my hands on one of his precious Bavarian beer steins and let it fly. It didn't break. I remember that." Mouse whispered to herself, caught in the memory. "I remember screaming at him, but I don't recall exactly I said," Mouse lifted her head, and sheepishly confided, "but I do know it had a lot of profanity."

"Do you use profanity often Mouse?" Dr. Mena asked. "And what happened after you threw the ashtray, and the -- beer stein, was it?

"Profanity, no -- not usually. Only when it's warranted, I guess." Mouse shrugged her shoulders. Her eyes ached and she wanted him to be done with this, and just sleep. "I grabbed the pot of water tossed it toward him, pushed my little bother out of the house, and we took off running.

"Winded by the time we reached the diner on Saxon avenue, I had some babysitting money, so we went inside to rest and think. I bought my brother a soda and fries, and me some mozzarella sticks. We had just gotten our food when the police showed up." Mouse said as she sat back in her chair. "The rest you have from the reports, I'm sure."

"You mean about the encounter your father had with the police? Yes, I do. The fact that your father was extremely drunk and disorderly, and wanted to box one of the officers, is why you're not being charged with assault. It's clearly a case of self-defense."

Mouse slumped back into her chair after hearing Dr. Mena's words. The knot in her stomach unraveled, and she drew in another breath, this one tasting of relief. She closed her eyes briefly in thanks before she asked where her brother was, how he was, and what came next.

She knew how life 'on the inside' of the institutional foster food chain worked, and she wanted assurances that she and her brother would not be placed in separate homes, and her Pop wouldn't be able to get him, without her. Once Mouse had those, she'd believe the rest of the promises they gave her.

Yeah, sure, maybe she'd even believe things would get better. Maybe now she could finally relax. She doubted it, but at least for tonight, her brother was safe, and she could sleep without fear.

Monster Magnate Brigade

The friends raced single file along the bike trail. All of them carried backpacks outfitted with snacks (growing teens were always hungry, after all), canteens, comic books, and other doo-dads kids their age picked up.

Their services had been requested! But first they had plans and strategy to work out.

The trail widened, and curved to the left to follow along the river bank. A white slat fence marked the outside of the curve's belly. Someone had drawn a caricature of the consequences if a person barreled into the fence -- and went airborne-- to land in the river on the other side.

Set thirty feet back from the bank, on the inside of the bend and nestled between two swamp cedars, was their pride and joy: The Clubhouse.

Made of planks from discarded pallets, sawed to size and hammered together with nails and tools donated by their parents, the kids built themselves a sturdy place to plot.

Designed by Will, who wanted to be an architect, and with the pulley system engineered by Joey, the supplies and equipment were hoisted into the clubhouse, courtesy of George's muscles.

Two girls, Hannah and Lisa, joined the club and seemingly made it their mission to keep the boys from their natural state as slobs. The boys often muttered 'about gosh darned women and their hare brained ideas' but the girls lent a different perspective (and they smelled good) to the business Joey started -- The Monster Magnate Fighting Brigade.

Their families, former monster magnates themselves, pitched in and bought them matching hats, t-shirts, and fishing vests with a lot of cool pockets. Perfect for the Brigade. There were places for vials of holy water, salt, garlic, and of course Monster Spray.

They began a new spell book to pass down to any future Monster Magnets they may have. Joey's mom let him use hers, and it came in handy more than a few times. All of the kid's parents gave their children talismans infused with magic to ward off evil. Joey's, a silver chess pawn, came from the set his father gifted him with three years ago, after he had used it in his very first monster battle.

In fact, all of them became Monster Magnets within the same year, and were pulled together by their paranormal power. The same power tugged the monsters and spooks to them.

Joey skid to a halt at the base of their clubhouse, and easily shinnied up the rope ladder on one side, letting down the steps built on the other. Together they gathered their supplies, double checking they didn't miss anything.

"What do you think we need to bring, Joey? Besides the usual stuff?" Hannah quietly asked him. She clearly favored Joey, but no one had known about it until after her battle with Evilein the Black, and her psyche had sustained severe damage.

"What do you think we need, Jo-o-ey?" Someone teased.
Hannah turned bright red. Joey noticed.

"Leave off, you guys. Hannah's off limits you know that. Remember, her abilities were almost shredded by the strongest black monster we've faced so far, and we should be grateful she banished it. Every time you raz her, it sets her recovery back."

Hannah timidly flashed him a grin and mouthed 'thank you.' Joey nodded in response, and gave her a half smile back, and moved toward the front, closer to the ladder. He had a crush on Hannah forever, but didn't want to take advantage of her.

"Now, let's get basic kits, rope, flute, slingshots, and the largest balloons we have. Oh and Monster Spray, two bottles each." Joey finished and looked around.

"Alright everyone, listen up. We've been asked to take on the bug that's haunting Henry's Holstein Dairy Farm. Their cows are frightened and won't let down their milk, or use the Automatic Milking System, which has been funked, and is full of ectoplasm.

It's been a couple weeks now and they've been milking by hand, but it's too slow and the yield isn't good. Plus the milk's of poor quality. Our job is to find this thing, and to neutralize it!" Joey finished, turned to leave, then turned quickly back.

"Oh, one more thing-- all cattle prods must stay home! This is for your protection, as much as for the cows. No one needs to get kicked by a ticked off cow."

"Ready? Let's go ex-or-cise! So they can pasteurize!" Joey settled his backpack between his shoulders once more, grabbed the ladder, whooped, and was gone.

Hannah started right behind him, but Lisa's hand on her arm stopped her. "Hannah, Uhm, we all would like to apologize. We were wrong, and..." Lisa found herself hugged by Hannah, who signed for her to hush, and that she forgave them.

The two girls smiled and hugged again on reaching the ground, they climbed onto to their bikes, and pedaled as fast they could to catch up with Joey and the boys.

*******

They were exhausted. Hours had passed and still they hadn't found a solution, at least not one that worked. Will tried to build an airtight containment system, but it wasn't flexible enough, and gave out. Now he had another idea.

Meanwhile, the girls kept the cows calm. They sang to the small herd (cows are a big fan of music), and with help from the Henry's, they managed to milk all of the cows. Immediate relief and gratitude brightened the bovine faces, and their lows no longer sounded of pain.

Hannah's cheeks were red again, but the reasons were different this time; the cows, and the torrents of giggles she and Lisa, shared in their antics!

Lisa asked, "Who knew cows dance? Goodness, they're so silly!" She broke into an impromptu dance all the way up the hill; to her delight a heifer danced and bounded toward her in joy.

Joey asked George if he would ride back to the Clubhouse, and pick up more supplies. Salt, garlic (both oil and bulbs), and Holy water. The basic trio, but they also needed more balloons, and insta-ties for them.

The extra duty fell to George because of his size and enormous strength -- the added weight from the supplies wouldn't slow him down. People often associated George's deliberate caution with mental deficiency, and this group of friends never did. The Monster Magnates seemed to understand his placid nature, and what dwelled beneath it, and he loved them for it. Sure, they used his size, but not in a 'dumb pack animal' way.

While on the hunt for the items needed to help the fight at the dairy, George found some wide coils of re-enforced steel hose, and draped them pistolero style around his chest. On a whim he picked up the new extraction device, and extra strength thirty gallon trash bags. Lastly, George placed a few bottles of cold water in his pack, and headed back to the farm.

*******

Gathered in a loose circle around the malevolant AMS the boys Joey, George, and Will stood and surveyed the modifications they had made to the machine.

Fitted by hose, and clamped onto the back of the AMS, was the new Monster Extractor, two more hoses, and the now doubled, heavy duty trash bags were clamped tightly onto the extractor's side valves.

They planned to catch the critter using its own curiosity. Monsters, the Magnets knew, couldn't resist different and shiny toys, especially when it would come with some 'Caca de Cow' on the menu.

Joey, had gotten samples of cows' urine, and hormones from sweat glands [don't ask], which he mixed together with holy water, garlic and salt, these 'additives' would help fuel the spell a hundred fold.

Now all they had to do was attach dewey eyed Nell, the cow, to the AMS and wait. It didn't take long before Nell scratched her hooves, and rolled her eyes in alarm.

The team all felt the thing's heavy thud into the AMS, and signaled to each other to stay alert. The new monster spray concoction was ready in their holsters, and the nozzles were set to stream. Yet as prepared as they thought they were, the brigade almost missed the ghoul's transition from the AMS- into the monster extractor.

it was a close thing, but they did manage to trap it between the AMS hose, and extractor hoses. They decided to transfer from the trash bags, to waste management cans, and filled three, before the extraction slowed and stopped halfway through the fourth.

The extractor began to shake, and shimmied so hard, they were afraid it would overfill with ectoplasm, and explode. Its sides puffed out like a trumpeter's cheeks, and then sucked back in.

The team hurriedly filled the inside of the extractor with monster spray, and all of the AMS re-access points were sprayed to force the fiend to move toward the containment wastecans. They came prepared to 'ghost' these ghosts!

*******

Everyone linked arms, held onto their talismans, and began to firmly chant:

Gremlins who love to sour milk
Tell the creatures of your ilk
Those who scare poor bovine souls
You fallen under our control

Upon these words, we all agree.
By our will, so mote it be.

The air became charged with electricity, everyone moved a little closer and louder this time chanted:

Monster in the milk machine,
Who's filth and slime we must clean
This place is for the cow's alone
And you will leave their barn and home.

Upon these words, we all agree
By our will, so mote it be!

Roiling thunder followed their chant, and the air crackled with energy. The Monster Magnets tapped into the charge and tightened their circle, and raising their voices to drown out the thunder, chanted:

Fiends who dine on cows fears,
You are not welcome here
Know now, the bill's come due,
The end has come for all of you!

Upon these words, we all agree
By our will, so mote it be!

[CRACK!] A bolt of lightning struck the milking machine and bored far into the ground; fractured into hundreds of beams, and, followed and fried every fiend it found.

The Magnets, who had been tumbled to the ground when the bolt struck, stood and looked at each other, and burst into giggles and laughter.

Everyone's hair stuck straight up, or out, frizzed, and along with their clothes, steamed.

Joey managed to croak "Everyone okay?" at everyone's nod or answer of yes, "Let's go home."

The cows, clip-clopped their way back to the dairy barn, and as they came closer they could sense their milking stations were no longer haunted! The teen's watched as the cows happily lined up, sniffed at their milking station, lowed in approval, and danced into line.


Later that night, after everyone had gone to sleep, the herd had a happy cow celebration, and laughed as they jumped, high over the moon!