Chapter 7

The chief kept his promise, and by the next morning, the armed officers and the police tape had vanished. Apart from Brenda's new pet, things had finally returned to normal.

On the day the police left, I dropped off the creature's scale in David's laboratory. He was not around at the time, so I left the plastic tube on a desk where I thought he would be likely to find it.

I didn't hear from him over the next couple of days, but it didn't really matter. I was enjoying a quiet weekend where I wasn't glued to the dinner table sorting through appointments and patient files. I actually had some time to myself. Almost, anyway.

Brenda was free for the weekend as well, and we spent Saturday roaming the mall in town, looking for ways to waste our well-earned money when it could have been better used elsewhere. Her father was showing small signs of recovery in the hospital, and so Brenda decided to treat herself to new lipsticks, shoes, and whatever else that women feel compelled to buy.

Sunday came quickly, and we had nothing planned. The weather had taken a turn for the worst, pouring with rain, with the weatherman predicting it would continue into next week.

That didn't stop Brenda from sending me outside to collect sticks.

I returned after two hours, pushing open the front door with a hand full of cold, dirty sticks. My clothes were soaked, dripping water heavily onto the doormat.

"Is it still raining?" Brenda asked.

"No, Brenda. I thought I would take a detour through the car wash." I grumbled, dropping my stick collection into a designated basket by the staircase. "Couldn't that thing eat something more appropriate? How about cheeseburgers?"

She ignored my bitter remarks and took the basket into the living room. I relieved myself of the soaked clothes and changed into something warmer, before returning to set myself down in front of the living room TV.

Brenda had dropped the basket full of sticks beside the sofa, and the creature was already busy gorging itself, ignoring my presence completely. It still seemed a little bitter since I almost ripped its tail off the other day, and my unwillingness to really bond with it didn't help either.

I didn't really want to bond with it anyway. It kind of freaked me out.

However, it received an undue amount of attention from Brenda, who was almost obsessive over its well-being. I didn't quite understand it. The creature wasn't exactly cute or cuddly, and Brenda had even been accidentally cut a few times by its vicious blades. Maybe it had simply awoken her maternal side.

I was busy watching the Sunday football game when I felt something tug at my jeans. Two big red eyes were gazing curiously up at me. The creature had obviously finished its meal and needed someone to annoy.

"Brenda? Could you tend to this please?" I summoned to the kitchen where she was making herself busy.

She leaned against the arch that separated the two rooms, munching on an apple. "You're a grown man. You tend to it."

"It's your demon pet, Brenda. Your responsibility."

"I think you two need to start bonding." She smiled deviously and walked over. Putting her apple to one side, she picked up the creature under the armpits and dropped it carefully into my lap. One of the blades on its left leg dug uncomfortably into my thigh.

"Ow! The little…" I seethed, but the creature adjusted to a more comfortable position and smiled goofily up at me.

Yes, the thing smiles. It's kind of creepy.

"See? She likes you!" Brenda cooed.

I raised an eyebrow, keeping my stare fixed on the creature in case it decided to slit my throat with one of those wicked blades on its wrists, "It has a gender now?"

"I had a gut feeling." She grumbled, frustrated at my continually sarcastic tone.

"It must have poisoned you." I commented. "You mean you actually went to the trouble of… checking?"

"No. You could check for yourself if you want."

"I'd rather not." I said, grimacing at the beast on my lap. "Maybe it's a hermaphrodite."

Brenda shrugged and sat down beside me. The creature instantly decided that Brenda's lap would be more welcoming and crawled over, though not without digging its claws dangerously close to my groin.

For a while, and much to my annoyance, Brenda thought it was a good idea to play a few baby games with the creature. It was both disturbing and sort of sweet to watch as Brenda indulged in a game of peek-a-boo. The creature laughed in its unusual way whenever Brenda would reveal herself from behind her hands.

I was slowly beginning to develop an interest in its reactions. The way it sounded and the way it moved. It could have been a Human child, if you ignored the fact that it was green, scaly and covered in dangerous blades.

I even found myself counting the blades. There were three blades on each arm, two on each leg, two on the tail and three on the head. In just the few days that it had been living here, its blades had grown and sharpened, and its overall height had increased by about an inch or two. This brought an obvious question to my mind.

"How big is this thing going to grow?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You know, I never thought of that." Then she paused in thought.

"Those blades are getting pretty big, Brenda. I'm not sure if you should be handling it so carelessly."

"Twig isn't going to hurt me, Steven." She growled, rubbing her fingers over its elbow blade. "At least, not on purpose."

"An accident could be just as bad as an attack." I warned. "Especially if it continues growing."

Brenda shrugged it off and continued disturbing the silence with her high-pitched baby talk to the creature, which seemed mildly amused. "Don't worry Twig. He's just being Mr Cranky Pants again. Isn't he Twig? Isn't he Twig?!"

"Wig!" It chirped.

We froze and stared wide-eyed at it.

Brenda stammered, looked to me, back to Twig, and then back to me again. "Did she just…?"

I simply shrugged, taken aback by its outburst.

Brenda regained herself and stared hard at it. "Twig? Say your name, Twig. Twig." I noticed a slight grin on her face that seemed to want to appear, but she was just managing to hold it back.

The creature cocked its head and contemplated for a moment, before it barked again in its guttural tone. "Wig!"

Both I and Brenda couldn't quite believe what we were hearing, and we stared at each other for a solid few seconds, just as the grin that had threatened to appear finally shone brightly on Brenda's face.

The next few minutes consisted of Brenda repeatedly encouraging Twig to say its name. Nearly. It seemed to struggle with 'T's', but the utterance of the most part of its name was a major revelation for Brenda. For me, it only increased my interest, and for those few moments I was fixated on it. I didn't know quite how to react.

Brenda eventually calmed down, but the grin remained on her face. "She talks, Steven! She talks!"

"I know." I said, showing little outward enthusiasm.

She gazed down at me, still holding the confused Twig in her arms. "You don't seem very surprised about it, Steven."

"I am." I assured her. "I just… I mean… What the hell is that thing?"

Brenda's grin loosened as she appeared to snap back to reality. Her eyes focused on Twig, and she muttered, "It's a mystery."

The following weeks went by smoother than I had imagined they would. Brenda's composure and mood had improved dramatically, as had my own. I had started plans for our five year anniversary, something that, just a couple of weeks ago, I presumed would pass by almost unnoticed, but Twig's arrival had somehow distracted our attentions from each other, and the new focus helped us cooperate more effectively. In dragging us apart, it had brought us closer together.

Twig continued to grow at an alarming rate, and in just those few weeks, its head stood level with my pelvis. Its blades, worryingly, grew as well, but Brenda was too attached to it now for me to even consider asking her to give it up. And even I had started to bond with it.

Its range of vocabulary was what shocked us the most. We would never have imagined that a lizard-blender hybrid could utter anything other than a mindless grunt, but it could now speak about twenty words fluently. Granted, they were all monosyllabic, but it was a damn fine start.

David had not gotten back to me yet on the sample I had sent in, and since finding out that Twig could speak, I sensed that any analysis he performed would mean nothing. Brenda and I felt certain that this creature was not something that would be found on any DNA database system, or anything even similar.

Brenda thought that maybe the creature had come from somewhere in outer space. Of course, that was a ridiculous suggestion.

Twig was now allowed to roam the house as it pleased. That was not my decision, but Brenda couldn't stand hearing the continuous whining that occurred whenever we put it back in the basement. It was still never allowed to venture outside, however, and we were adamant that it never would be, despite its protests.

Letting Twig roam around the house kept it happy, but this also had its downsides. I bore several cuts where there had been accidental collisions around the house. We had decided about a week ago to file down the blades on its arms and legs to make them a little less sharp, and this had helped slightly, but didn't stop the occasional scrape from cropping up. However, the biggest downside was when Twig would sneak into our bed during the middle of the night. I would wake at 3 o'clock in the morning, feel something tug against my pyjamas, and look down to see its lizard head poking up out of the blankets between us. It was something straight out of a nightmare. Brenda thought it was adorable. I thought it was dangerous. Thankfully, Brenda agreed, and she tried her best to encourage Twig not to enter our bed with us from then on.

Twig's blankets and water bowl were moved into the living room, and its food basket was beginning to fill with bigger and bigger sticks. We had since accepted that we could no longer have friends or family come to visit us, and we would instead have to travel every time we wished to socialise. Neither one of us really cared about that.

It was the night before our anniversary, and the three of us were slumped in front of the television watching some dreadful game show. It was strange after the last year or so to be sitting in a comfortable silence, watching awful programmes together like a normal married couple. There was still the occasional argument of course, but there definitely wasn't as many as before. We were still not what would be considered a happy couple, and we werea distance apart on the sofa, but things were getting much better.

I was leaning against my armrest, and Twig was curled up against Brenda, eyes still blinking and focused with great attention on the television. The game show soon came to a close, and the commercials began.

The commercials were Twig's favourite aspect of television. It perked up as a familiar beer commercial popped onto the screen.

"Beer!" Twig alerted us.

Brenda gazed at me suspiciously. "You taught her beer?"

"No, I didn't. Twig learns more from these commercials now than it does from us." I stated. "If Twig were to learn words from me, its entire vocabulary would be made up of Eat, Sleep and Misery."

"Sleep?" Twig asked, sounding disappointed.

"Yes, Twig." Brenda cooed. "I suppose it's time for you to go to sleep."

Twig released a throaty grunt and pulled itself from the sofa after a brief (and careful) hug from Brenda. It slithered past the table and collapsed messily onto the blankets. "Sleep." It concurred.

Brenda followed and tucked Twig cosily into the pile of blankets. Then she faced me, a warm smile residing on her face. I smiled back. It was one of those warm moments that we had been dearly missing over the last year or so.

Twig shuffled in the blankets and his slit-pupil eyes gazed sleepily up at me. "Sleep."

"Goodnight, Twig." I felt compelled to say. Then I too rose to my feet and walked into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water.

"You know what?" Brenda began, following me into the kitchen. "I'm actually looking forward to tomorrow."

"What's important about tomorrow?" I joked, grinning to make it obvious.

"Did you book the table at the restaurant?" She enquired, ignoring my poor attempt at humour.

"I booked it this morning."

"Good. I'm going to bed. Are you coming up soon?"

I nodded. "I'll be up soon." With that, she left for bed, leaving me in the kitchen, hanging over my glass of water.

My mind wandered for a while, quietly summing up the events that had transpired recently. Things with Brenda may have gotten a little better these last couple of weeks, but there was still a definite tension whenever we brought up conversations of work or our financial position. Her father may have shown signs of slight recovery, but we all knew that his days were numbered, and that his death would be the real test of our relationship, no matter how many anniversary meals we could tolerate out of some mutual politeness. Twig had merely provided a buffer, and allowed us to connect on a more indirect level.

For now though, the future was just that little bit brighter, and I was going to treasure that as much as possible before all hell broke loose.