Mr. Monk Goes to Germany by Lee Goldberg (general ebook reader .TXT) 📕

“What would running away screaming be?” Monk said.

“An overreaction,” Dr. Rahner said sternly. “Think about how you are feeling at this moment. Now imagine how we feel every day, walking among all of you.”

“I’ve got a thick skin,” Franco said lightheartedly.

“I bet you do,” Monk said.

If I had been next to Monk, I would have jabbed him with my elbow. Instead, I tried to send him a jabbing look. I don’t think I succeeded.

“The team is waiting for me on the volleyball court,” Franco said, spinning the ball on his finger. “I hope you learn something from your visit. If you get a chance, stop by and watch us play.”

He walked away and at that same moment a young woman emerged from the main building. She was dressed in shorts and a tank top and greeted us with a stewardess smile.

“I’m Katie, the sales director,” she said. “It’s an honor to have you all here with us today. I’m going to give you the grand tour. Please don’t hesitate to ask me any questions along the way.”

Monk raised his hand. “I have a question.”

“Yes, sir?” she said.

“Will you be handing out blindfolds?”

Katie laughed. “Our community is exclusive and unique, but it’s not a secret. We want you to see all that we have to offer.”

She led us into the main building. It was like a ski lodge, with a grand stone fireplace and a bar. There were several people in resort wear sitting around, reading books, sipping drinks, and quietly talking among themselves.

I saw female Siamese twins, one engaged in conversation with a hunchbacked man, the other reading the German translation of a James Patterson novel. A bearded woman played cards with a dwarf and a man with huge ears. I didn’t let my eyes linger on anyone for very long.

“This is our clubhouse common room, where everyone can gather to relax and get to know one another,” Katie said. “Every night we have a cocktail party with free food and entertainment. We also have a full library, a billiard room, a computer room, a state-of-the-art theater, and a restaurant.”

Monk looked up at the high wood-beamed ceiling. “I wish they had blindfolds. They really, really need blindfolds.”

“What are the criteria a person has to meet to be a guest here?” Dr. Kroger asked Katie.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Monk said, practically shrieking.

“You have to have been born with a physical anomaly,” Katie said, ignoring Monk’s comment, “and you must be recommended by Dr. Rahner or a current resident. After that, you have to pass an interview with our residents’ council.”

“What about to work here?” someone asked.

“Our guests do all the cooking, cleaning, and maintenance of the property,” she said. “It’s one of the things that create the vibrant sense of community you feel everywhere you go here. Everyone has to chip in and help out.”

She led us outside. The condominium buildings were similar in design to the main house and were arranged in a loose half circle around a large swimming pool and a picnic area, where a barbecue was going on. A man with a tiny head on a disproportionately normal body grilled chicken, spare-ribs, and steaks and doled out servings to a line of people that included a midget, a woman with an adult body and two tiny arms, and a man with a tail sticking out of a hole cut in the back of his swim trunks.

I glanced at a table and saw a young woman licking barbecue sauce off her lips with a forked tongue. Another man chewed at a sparerib with his fangs. He met my eyes and I quickly shifted my gaze to the pool, where a woman with a face like an ape made a perfect dive. Another woman did the backstroke across the pool, kicking at the water with her webbed feet. I saw a man with four nipples sunning himself on a chaise longue. He whispered something to the woman on the chaise next to him. She laughed and wiggled her twelve toes in delight.

I turned to see how Monk was taking all this. “This place is unbelievable,” I said.

“It certainly is.” Monk was looking down and holding his hand against his brow as if he was protecting himself from the glare of the sun.

“Are you covering your eyes?” I whispered.

“Hell yes,” he replied.

“Do most of the residents live here full-time?” someone asked.

She shook her head. “Franco and I are the only full-time residents. Everyone else here is a member-guest.”

“What does it cost?” asked another shrink.

Dr. Rahner answered. “Each person pays a five-thousand-euro entrance fee, six hundred euros in monthly dues, and about thirty-five thousand euros to purchase a time-share apartment, depending on the size of the unit.”

“Freedom isn’t cheap,” I said.

“It never is,” Dr. Rahner said. “That’s the sad truth.”

“But you’re making money,” I said. Call me cynical.

“It all goes back into the community,” he said. “I do it for them.”

“How many apartments are there?” Dr. Kroger asked. I think he just wanted to change the subject.

“Two hundred and twenty,” Dr. Rahner said.

“My God,” Monk said. “That’s a lot of freaks.”

I hate to admit it, but I was thinking the same thing. The place reminded me of the alien cantina scene in Star Wars. The one person who didn’t seem to fit was Katie.

During the tour, I’d given her the once-over a few times, looking for abnormalities, but as far as I could see she had ten fingers and everything else about her body seemed perfect, even enviably so.

“Forgive