Demon

Natalie’s

My beloved waits impatiently for her mother to arrive at the home day care center where she spends her afternoons. Timothy was not there today, because his mother was not working this afternoon and therefore picked him up directly after school. She did not pick up Natalie as well, now that they are no longer neighbors and this would not be as convenient for Brenda.

Gabe is also not at the day care, because this is the day that he has a doctor’s appointment for the removal of his cast. There was a delay of a week or two, due to difficulty scheduling the appointment. He has been eager to have it removed, as would any patient with such a cast in place. However, it is particularly difficult for him to bear the delay, because I have kept him and Natalie updated regarding the healing process, and he is aware that the broken bone was already mended at least two weeks ago. The cast has been nothing but an annoying ornament since that time.

I always provide Natalie with any information she requests, of course, but in some instances I wonder if it might do more harm than good. No doubt Gabe would have accepted the wait with more patience if he was unaware that the cast was now unnecessary.

Natalie looks over at me, sensing the general direction of my musings. She seems to do this more frequently all the time. Our communication grows in power and capacity as she matures. Still, she prefers the precision of direct communication, rather than contenting herself with a general understanding of my thoughts. “How is Gabe doing?” she silently inquires.

“The doctor has removed the cast, using a small saw, and is examining his ankle. Everything seems to be properly mended.”

“As you said,” she thinks.

“As I said.”

She returns to her book. A few weeks ago she asked the day care provider if she happened to have a bible. Surprised, the woman retrieved one from her bedside table, and Natalie has been reading it at day care whenever there is no other activity to engage in. This bible is a different version from the modern English variety that she has at home, and she enjoys comparing the old-fashioned language of King James to what she remembers reading in her own bible. She has begun making comparisons, appreciating where the differences in language provide conflicting nuances in the tales. Her study of the development of religion continues, her determination to understand it and find a way to correct its mistakes unabated.

She finds the Old Testament to be particularly fascinating, as a historical exercise. But it is the New Testament content that she loves. This is unsurprising. The message of Jesus is so similar to her own philosophy. Love one another. Be kind. Help each other. She has followed these teachings for her entire life, without even being aware of it at the start. She particularly loves the parables, and tries to imagine what the message was behind each story. She attempts to understand why the story was told in this way, rather than as more straightforward instructions.

Always, she is focused on her knowledge that everything in this bible, everything in every religion throughout history, is an invention of mankind. She was devastated when I first told her that the concept of god is a human contrivance. She has thoroughly embraced that knowledge now, and eagerly consumes the bible as literature, and as lessons for living. She continues to categorize each story as either simply a tale of human lives, or as having been influenced in some way by Guardians.

Jesus, she is convinced, could hear his Guardian. This is quite likely. Although I have no personal knowledge or memories to confirm the fact, the way his life is written in the bible would be consistent with the abilities of a Seer. There is no archeological proof of his existence, but his message is so similar to Natalie’s viewpoint that it is certainly quite possible. We have discussed this at some length, usually late at night when all the others in her family have long been asleep. She is quite interested in the way that the stories of his life have obviously been conflated with tales in prior religions, which I have been able to describe to her as well. There is little chance of her being able to untangle any potential historical truth from mythology, but she is undeterred. If nothing else, she simply enjoys the reading.

“Your mother is approaching, my dear.”

She looks up from her reading, and bookmarks her place with the ribbon attached to the top of the bible. Setting the book on the table beside the couch where she has been sitting, she approaches the woman who runs the day care. “Thank you again for letting me read your bible. I hope you have a nice weekend.”

“Of course Natalie, it is so nice to see a child who wants to read it. I hope you have a good weekend too.” There is a knock on the door, and the woman is not surprised that Natalie had already said her goodbyes before her mother arrived. This is standard for Natalie, and no longer seems strange to the woman.

Gabe is there at the door with his mother, pointing triumphantly to his foot wearing a regular shoe, rather than the cast with walking boot that had been plaguing him for so long. “Yay!” Natalie exclaims, clapping her hands with delight. “Finally! It must feel so good!”

“Oh, yeah!” Gabe agrees enthusiastically. “I’m glad that’s over!”

The woman chuckles with Brenda, then says, “Ok, kids, have a nice weekend. See you next week.”

Jonathan

They come over before dinner, thank goodness. “You’re here earlier than I expected,” I say, happier the minute that Natalie takes my hand.

“Yeah,” Gabe says, “I had a doctor’s appointment. Look!” He points to his foot.

“Oh, right! No cast. How’s it feel?”

“Pretty strange, actually, but I’m so happy to be done with that. My leg looks all skinny and pale from being trapped in there, but the doctor said it’ll be normal in a few days. And everything is fine now apparently. No harm done!”

It’s kind of cold and windy outside, so we don’t go out in the back yard. They come into my room with me. Socks as usual is so hyper about Natalie being here that he is practically knocking her over as she tries to walk down the hall.

Natalie sits with me on the floor, leaning against my bed. Socks sits next to her and lays his head on her lap. Gabe sits with us, now that he doesn’t have the cast on and it won’t feel so awkward. “Aahhhh!” he says.

Natalie giggles. “Welcome back to the floor.” We all laugh.

“Well,” Natalie says, “we got through another week. How are you feeling?”

This is our routine now. At the end of every week she checks to see how I’m doing. And whether I feel like my guardian angel is back yet. I’m getting used to the whole idea, about us all having them, and her being able to talk to hers all the time.

Gabe likes to play this game with dice where we shake them in a cup and turn it over so we can’t see, then Natalie tells us what they say. It’s pretty fun. He told me that the first time they played it was the night that she told him about guardian angels. It was the night that we had a fight in the library.

I’m starting to remember little pieces of what happened. But I’ve never been able to figure out a lot of it. Like the parts where I did stuff when they tell me that my guardian angel was in control. I don’t disbelieve what they say. I know for a fact that it’s all true. Natalie wouldn’t lie to me. And it’s the best explanation for how I felt after the hospital.

I don’t really feel that way any more. I think my energy is normal, and I like to do stuff again. I’m glad that I don’t have a guardian angel around making me do mean stuff. I remember liking to play tricks on people, and tease them, and things like that, but I don’t have any interest in that now. I guess it’s because it was my guardian angel wanting me to do it, and now that he’s gone I don’t want to.

“I feel fine,” I tell her.

“Any emotions that don’t make sense?”

“No.”

“Have you felt like you want to hurt anyone?”

“No.”

“Anything different at all?”

“No. I just keep feeling better. I think you really have been helping me,” I tell her. I look into her eyes, which just look dark brown here inside the house. “Thank you.”

She smiles and touches my shoulder. Mm. The light goes on. It still always happens, but now it isn’t as noticeable. I think I’m feeling normal enough all the time that it doesn’t make as big a difference as it did at first. I still like it, though.