2 – There a MonsterWe had a visitation recently from monsters cultivated in another province.
One of my neighbours – and by “my neighbours”, I mean anyone living in the Municipality of Greenstone, be that next door or fifty klicks away, for we encompass a large territory – one of my neighbours just escaped giving a monster a lift in her car.
He was ambling down a bush road, looking lost and discombobulated, so she stopped. Her passenger cautioned her because . . . the monster was incoherent. He had no shoes. He had no socks. And it was freezing out.
So, she did the wise thing. She drove into Longlac and notified the police. The police scooped him up. Yes, he was a fugitive. From justice in New Brunswick.
It turns out his name was David Leblanc, and he and his fellow monster, Wayne Cunningham, were wanted on charges of unlawful confinement and sexual assault of a minor. God knows what other crimes will be attributed to them.
His partner was missing. Police found the abandoned car, and a search of the area disclosed the body of the second monster. Some day the full story will be come out.
If you are inclined to say that pedophilia is peculiar to New Brunswick, it could never happen here, think again. My community has numerous pedophiles. I don’t happen to know the names of any of them right now, but I used to know several. Everyone knew who they were. But no one saw the smoking gun, so to speak, so no one complained to the police. They just steered their own children away from them.
And our pleasant, friendly, law-abiding community harbours murderers too. I know some of the names of ones that have been caught. The others living among us, I do not know their names right now. And I may never know. They are pretty wily.
Don’t get me wrong. I love my community. It’s a great place. And if I were raising a family again, I’d raise them here. And I am not paranoid. I don’t go around looking over my shoulder. And I am not obsessive. I don’t go around exposing pedophiles and murderers, but they are here, among us. And I do not double-bar the door anymore. Haven’t for years.
I am hyper-conscious that there are monsters among us, but they are not running my life. Neither are they ruining it.
Rather, they are inspiring me to write novels in which they figure largely.
But they are not the stars.
They are the foils to the stars.
Everywhere a Monster, Monster . . .