Demon

Timothy

Guardian was able to tell me last night before I went to sleep that the experiment worked fine, and that he is hearing Angel and the other guardians all the way from New Mexico. I’m glad to know that. Who knows where everyone will be when we all grow up. I’m happy that there will always be a way to keep in touch with Natalie.

I miss her. Normally on Saturdays I go over and play at her house, but obviously I didn’t do that today. I ended up having to go and sit at the salon with my Mom while she did hair for a couple of hours this morning. Dad had left for work, and Mom didn’t believe me when I told her that I’m old enough to stay home by myself. So I brought a couple of books and sat there and read, spinning around on the chair next to hers. Then she gave me quarters to get whatever snacks I wanted from the vending machine nearby. So it wasn’t a bad morning. Just a morning without my best friend.

I wonder what she’s doing, and if she’s having a nice time. “Guardian,” I think to him, “Please ask Angel to tell Natalie Hi for me. Tell her that I’ve been reading that book about archeology I got at the library last week.” I’m laying on my bed with the book open in front of me. There’s a picture on this page of an excavation in Israel.

I feel his agreement, like a hug inside my mind. I don’t think our communication has changed much in the last couple of months. I can feel him but not really hear him, unless I’m nearly asleep, or unless something special is happening that makes us both try really hard. I’m starting to accept that this is how it is going to be. Angel always said that Natalie is the only one who can hear her guardian. I’ve certainly come a lot further with it than where I was at first, when I first learned about Guardian.

“Timothy,” Mom calls from downstairs. “Dinner time.”

I head down and sit at the table. Dad is there already, and Mom sits down after she carries a dish over.

“How was your day, Mike?” Mom asks.

“Okay,” he says.

“Do you work tomorrow?”

“No, I have off until Tuesday,” he says, taking a bite of salad.

“Great, can you stay with Timothy? I have some clients scheduled. I brought him with me today, but I think he’d rather stay home.”

I shrug. I don’t really care. Either way I’ll be reading.

“Yeah, okay,” Dad says.

After we’re done eating, Dad says, “I’m going next door for a while.”

Mom doesn’t say anything back to him. While he puts on his shoes and leaves, she carries dishes over to the sink. “Bring me your plate, Timothy,” she tells me. I carry it over to her.

I think it’s weird to have Dad going over to Natalie’s old house all the time. But he’s there almost every night. I guess he’s really good friends with the guys who live there now.

“Want to watch some t.v. with me tonight?” Mom asks me.

“No thank you,” I tell her. “I want to keep reading my book.”

She sighs. “Okay, kid. What’s the book about?”

“It’s the one about archeology. I’m reading about an excavation in Israel. They think they’ve found a site from the bible.”

“That sounds interesting,” she says, and leans over to kiss me on top of my head.

I go back upstairs.

Laura

It’s still too early to go to bed. The kitchen is clean, Timothy is reading in his room, and Michael is over at Jim and Ethan’s house, as usual. Without me. So I’m slouched on the couch, under a cozy blanket, flipping through the channels trying to find something to watch.

I guess at least I can be pretty sure that we’ll get some sleep tonight. He’ll come back late, stoned, and go right to sleep. I keep telling myself that it’s better than constant nightmares.

I wonder how Brenda is doing. I’m so happy for her, that her marriage has been fixed and they’re going to have a nice wedding. I can’t help but feel sorry for myself, looking at the contrast.

It’s a hard time right now. First Michael was too stressed and jumpy to sleep, and now he’s spending all of his free time with a couple of stoners. The two of us haven’t done anything nice together for a couple of months. We haven’t gone out anywhere like we were doing before. After he got back from his last deployment I had tried to set up things to do to help him sleep better, outdoorsy stuff like hiking. But all he does now is work, hang out next door, and sleep.

Oh well, at least he isn’t waking me up all night long, thrashing and yelling. I suppose I should be grateful for small favors.

Michael’s

My beloved has discovered the path to peace of mind. His wife does not like it, and even he has qualms about what he has been doing. He knows there could be trouble with his employer if he continues this practice and is detected.

But, he has no way to stop. For one thing, he actually enjoys the companionship of his new neighbors. They are younger, and seem more carefree than he has been for many years. Their employment with a construction company seems uncomplicated, straightforward. They have no wives, no children. They enjoy dating various women, and enthusiastically encourage each other in this effort.

When my dearest compares his life to theirs, he feels that he has heavier burdens than they do. He does not regret his life, but feels nostalgic for his younger days when his lack of attachments brought with it a sense of freedom that he no longer enjoys.

And, of course, the chemicals in the substances that he imbibes with his new friends have been able to quiet his mind, bring him peace, alleviate the problem he had been having with anxiety. And especially with nightmares. They still occur, but with far less intensity and frequency. The treatment that he had unsuccessfully sought from the doctor may or may not have been effective, but his clandestine use of drugs certainly is.

I, obviously, support my beloved in all that he does. I am delighted that he has found a pathway to a greater happiness and well-being than he had been experiencing before these young men moved next door. I must encourage him to continue.

“Beloved, enjoy your evening with your friends. You know that you feel better than you had in quite some time. This is the best for you, for your health, and your mind, and your soul. I am with you in love and happiness.”

Jonathan

Sigh. Is this only Saturday? This week seems like it is lasting forever already. Dad went to work today, and I stayed home with Mom. But she was so busy studying that she didn’t even have time to play any games or anything with me. So I’m just trying to find ways not to die of boredom.

I watched t.v. for a while, but honestly that just doesn’t seem as exciting as it used to.

I wish that I could go into Gabe’s house and play with his stuff. He has more cool toys than I do. He has a zillion Legos, and neat video games. My stuff seems boring compared to his. But, he’s off on their vacation and I won’t see him for a whole week.

I miss Natalie too. I haven’t felt that nice warmth I get when she touches me since yesterday when she left after school. When I think about it, this is the longest time I’ve gone without feeling that for months. She’s always hanging around, making sure to hold my hand or touch my shoulder or lean against me, because Angel has told her that it helps me.

I know it does. And I miss it. I didn’t realize it until now, but I think I need it. I’m not feeling right without her warmth. I don’t think that it’s just because I’m bored without my friends and their cool toys. I think it’s because she’s left me here, without her, and I’ll have to suffer through this whole week without getting what I need.

How could she do that? Why would she leave me? She didn’t have to go. She could have talked her family out of it. She doesn’t care about me as much as I thought she did. If she cared, she wouldn’t have left me.

This is all her fault. Everything. The way I was feeling before she started hanging around me, and even more now. I feel bad because of her.

I go out in the backyard. Mom barely looks up from her book as I walk past her. She doesn’t care either.

Nobody does. Everyone is so awful to me.

I hate them. I hate them all. I especially hate Natalie, for doing this to me.

I kick a soccer ball across the yard. Socks looks up at me and goes bounding across the yard to get it for me. It’s too big for him to fit his mouth around, though, so he just comes running back and stands in front of me, with his mouth open and his tongue hanging out and his tail wagging.

Dumb dog. What do you want from me? “Go away,” I tell him, pointing across the yard. He looks at where I’m pointing, then back at me, confused. He doesn’t know what to do.

Sheesh. I cross the yard and go back over to where the ball is, and kick it back towards him. He tries to jump up and get it, but it’s too big for him and it whacks him in the face. He leaps back and whines.

Oh my god. What am I doing? Why am I all of the sudden so furious? My poor dog didn’t do anything wrong, he’s just trying to be friendly. I run over to him and drop down on the ground and pick him up, hugging him to me. I feel better, holding him.

I’m confused about what just happened. It’s like a huge rush of anger washed over me, out of nowhere.

Suddenly, I realize what it is. I feel faint and dizzy with fear. I know what this must be. I remember the questions Natalie asks me every week. She wants to know if I have any unexplained emotions. And I just did.

There’s only one explanation.

Demon must be back.