Paint Me a Monster Read Online Free

keep us from sliding onto the floor. Gaga calls it “an experience.” The best part of lunch is when we finish. On the counter next to the cash register is a silver tree. Instead of leaves, little see-through boxes hang from the branches. They’re filled with tiny treasures, no bigger than my fingernail. Across each box in curly letters are the words “World of Miniatures.” I reach for one that has a hammer, nails, wrench, and tape measure inside, like the ones on Daddy’s workbench. Then I take one filled with mommies, daddies, children, and a perfect doggie. They are so perfect I can hardly breathe.
    “Don’t touch anything,” Mommy says. “I mean it!”
    Does she know how hard it is just to look?
    We pay for lunch, cross the street, and walk to the car. I reach to pull myself in when a thing in my armpit drops. Mommy stoops to pick it up.
    “What is this? Where did it come from?”
    “It’s from the silver tree,” I say.
    “In-the-restaurant?” she says in one long word as she shoves the box in front of my face.
    I watch Mommy’s hands. One speeds toward my leg where there is no dress and bites me above my sock. Mommy’s other hand drops the box of treasures and tugs my coat collar. I hear the cry of material coming apart as it scratches across my throat. Then I am outside the car.
    “I’m sorry Mommy, I’m sorry,” I say, covering my bottom with my hands.
    “Rinnie, you march yourself right into the Windsor and tell the clerk you took the box! What you did was terrible.”
    Mommy and Lizzie walk me to the Windsor and make me go inside by myself. The inside of my mouth feels full of spiky bubbles.
    “I took this,” I say and hand the family in the plastic box back to the lady behind the counter. The bubbles burst in my mouth and the spikes sew my lips together.
    “Oh my,” she kneels down in front of me and lifts my chin with her fingers. “You must have wanted this very much to take it without paying for it. Bringing it back must be very hard.”
    My head nods up and down and tears fall on the floor with every nod.
    “I won’t do it again, I promise and—I’m sorry.”
    “I believe you,” she says and hands me a tissue. “How would you feel if someone took something that belonged to you?”
    “Mad.”
    She shakes her head like she knows.
    I think of the Royal dress, the little family waiting in the see-through box, and I feel sad.
    “I just wanted something special and perfect,” I say.
    She kneels in front of me, and I look at her eyes.
    I want to give her a hug, but I don’t. When I come out Mommy makes me open my hands and raise my arms above my head to show I gave the treasure back.
    “Monster,” she says.

WHERE IS THERE?
    “Let’s go Mommy, I’m tired. Let’s goooo!”
    “Just a few more things to try on, Rinnie. Sit in the corner and tell me if you like the pattern on this blouse.”
    I squeeze between Mommy’s shopping bags and the mirror but don’t look at Mommy. Instead, I line up pins that are stuck under carpet fuzz. The plain pins turn into a house with a chimney and smoke. The ones with smooth round tops, like crowns, are kings and queens. They live in the house. It’s a castle-house, and it has a playground.
    “Rinnie, move away from the mirror. I want to see if this blouse is too dark for my brown skirt.”
    I spread out like a starfish, so she can see over me.
    “I want to go home.”
    “Do you like the blouse?” Mommy asks. “I do.”
    She smiles and twists, first to my side, then the other.
    “I like the tiger top you wore here. Zzzipzzippp,” I make the sound of the pants Mommy puts on.
    “Houndstooth is a nice change. I’ll take these, too.”
    “I’m hungry,” I say and stick the queen inside the chimney.
    “Shhh, I can’t think when you whine, Rinnie.” Mommy takes off the barky pants, puts on a pair the color of mustard, and pulls a dark orange sweater over her head. “Hmmm,” she hmmms and wiggles out of the clothes.
    “Rinnie,