Grendel / Alice

Grendel is a sad little fucker with a thirst for vengeance... vengeance he's been surpressing for thousands of years. Turns out he didn't die when Beowulf ripped off his arm. He spend a while nursing his wound in the bottom of that swamp. Now he's back and taking on college, working as a gardener and house-sitter for Alice, retired looking-glass-traveler. A bit mellower, he's still dealing with self-esteem issues from the past. Here are the letters he sent while cooped up in her whirligig-infested house. Click below on "Read More" for the full text of their first exchange.

Dear Alice,

I hope you are having a grand time on the coast, and that whatshisname is not making you go to too many museums. I’m sorry I said that mean thing before you left. You know how I feel about him, though I guess that’s no excuse. He did help me fix my machine, so I guess he’s okay.

I hope I got the right address. Your phone doesn’t seem to be working because I tried you call you the other day. So now I have to write you. I am writing you to express my concern for your vegetable garden. I think something strange happened to it because a few mornings ago I woke up and the vegetables seem to have moved. There was a squash in the squash patch that isn’t there anymore and later I found that it was sitting by the wall. It was still connected to the vine, which is very adorable by the way, with all the curlies. Maybe some punk from next door is trying to pull something. Last night the frat had another party and the entire street pulsated with their desperate jerking. Maybe all the sonic booming was what moved the vegetables. I think I may have slept through an earthquake, otherwise.


So I was all like WTF is going on because I found a bunch of the other vegetables scattered around in different spots after I found the squash. Don’t worry because they’re not lost. I’m taking good care of your plants.

So school is going okay. Today I learned about how squares are limited but oblong shapes are not, according to some ancient greek thinkers. They did not like squares. I was not as sad. It’s hard to make friends when you’re awkward like me. I’m worried that they’ll find out what I did to those guys that one time in the mead hall and dismiss me for good. It was a long time ago, but they talk about it sometimes. Do you think I should join a club? I want to dance but I think I’m too fat and girls don’t like that I’m so hairy and my feet are huge.

Thanks again for giving me the opportunity to work as your gardener. I am very grateful. I’m sounding very formal. I don’t mean to be. I know you don’t like that. And we are friends, you said. I guess I’m not used to it. I’m glad we’re friends.

-G

_______________________________________________________

Alice,

Give me some of that shrinking potion. I’m desperate. I went to the store and bought three boxes of Oreos, the Halloween kind, and ate it all. My teeth were orange, my tongue orange, my lips, my face, my insides orange. Orange and black. What is the color of shame? Orange. Caution. Stay away. And black is the burned spirit. What do you get for staying alive for thousands of years only to realize that loneliness is never ending, and that your real friends are fictional? Oreo comas. I never realized what a beautiful word “oreo” was until today. It makes me want to die. 

At dance class, I stepped on someone’s foot, and she refused to be my partner after that. I kind of shuffled around but it’s hard to look inconspicuous when you’re an oversized bearman. Since I shaved my incisors down it’s less of a problem because I don’t look as carnivorous, but it’s still a problem. Oh yeah, it doesn’t help that I only have one arm. 

I almost forgot to water your plants because I was so sick, I just wanted to dig myself a pit and hide after the stupid dance. The music wasn’t even good. It was mostly rap. But then I realized that if I buried myself, I’d go into hibernation and your garden would be screwed. So I’m pretty proud of myself for that. Hey, that’s a good one. I’m praising myself. 

I watched Beauty and the Beast on your VHS today. It was covered in dust. I hated it. But I resisted smashing your television. You know what, I don’t know what the hell is the deal with the European obsession with juxtaposing hideous things with young, slender androgynous bone creatures. If they’re trying to make a statement… they’re delusional if they think it’s original. I bet I could get paid. I could money off of calendars entitled “Abominable Snowman and the Seven Nymphs.”  

I know you want me to get counseling, but I don’t have time. Anyway, I’d rather get a cat. I’m going to get a black cat and name it Oreo. 

Sounds like you’re having a good time on the coast. You deserve it. It’s too bad about the cut up fish though.

The vegetables have been pretty docile. No movement since last week. I did hear some weird noises through the window last night, but it could have been a rabbit. Time is passing.

Thanks for the postcard!

-Grendel