Demon

Laura

I’m thinking about what to make for dinner as I drive home. I don’t feel like going to the store. It was kind of a long day at the salon, now it’s already late afternoon, and my feet are sore from standing. I think I have some pre-packaged frozen meals at home. Won’t take long to whip something up.

Mike is slumped on the couch, watching t.v. when I get home. “Hey,” I say to him, taking off my sweater. “How’d it go?”

He shrugs. “Fine. Kid’s been up in his room all day.”

I laugh. “Well, that’s normal.” Mike turns his gaze back to the t.v.

I head into the kitchen and check what’s in the freezer.

Michael’s

My beloved feels a disheartening malaise. After having conquered the sleep disturbances he had been experiencing for so many months, he begins to grow weary of the solution. Although it was exhilarating at first to realize that the substances he imbibes with his new friends were making him feel much better, the initial thrill has worn off. The neighbors seem increasingly immature to him, and although he recognizes this is natural since they are much younger, it has started to wear on him. Especially after the antics of last night, although he appreciates the act of smoking together with them, their behavior makes him feel that he is regressing back to high school. However, he has no other readily available source from which he can obtain marijuana, and does not wish to risk making inquiries elsewhere.

He has tried off and on over the last several weeks to reduce his use of the drug, but finds each time that the lack of the substance leaves him feeling worse, and less able to rest at night. He also worries, however, that if he continues, eventually his military employer will discover that he is using illegal substances and he will face discipline.

Furthermore, he knows that Laura is troubled by his activities, but he cannot manage to stop. He can’t bear to face her disappointment, which makes him try to avoid her, staying out later each evening, spending time with the young men next door rather than with his family. He can’t find a way out of the tangle he finds himself in. His mood grows increasingly darker.

I am at a loss. I do not know how to comfort him, or to heal him. All I can do is be with him.

“Beloved, I share your turmoil, we are together as you journey through this path in life. You will find your way along the path, darling. I will walk it with you.”

Timothy

I’ve made so much progress on the archeology research today. I’ve filled up a lot of pages of notes about places that have been excavated that might be where stories in the bible happened. I’m looking forward to comparing notes with Natalie when she gets back. She knows way more about the stories than I do, so we really need to look over my notes together to see whether any of them fit what’s in the bible.

“Hey, Guardian,” I whisper to him. “Can you ask Angel to tell Natalie how much I’ve gotten done? And tell her I hope she’s having a good time, but I miss her.”

I feel Guardian agreeing with me. It’s frustrating that I can’t hear his words most of the time, but this is still a type of communication. It’s better than nothing. It’s harder now that Natalie is gone though, because when she’s here she can tell me everything that Angel and Guardian say, and I don’t have to try so hard to hear him. I hope when I’m falling asleep tonight, or waking up tomorrow morning, I can hear him tell me how Natalie is doing.

At least it helps now that I know what he looks like. It was very surprising when Angel explained that guardians can look like anything they choose. Guardian said he could look like an ordinary human if I wanted, then I could decide if I want any details added. I’ve slowly been developing an idea of what seems right for his appearance, and Guardian makes adjustments as needed. Angel has described everything in detail. Guardian looks like a man now, about my Dad’s age, with short hair like my Dad, but really tall like Natalie’s Dad. He has thick black glasses and a white lab coat. It makes me happy to think of Guardian looking like a scientist. It helps me to imagine him next to me, and to dream of being a scientist just like that someday. An actual scientist, with a real laboratory, not just a kid running experiments all the time like I do now.

In the meantime, I’m finished with the archeology book. I’ll need to get back to the library to see if I can find more. I guess I’ll read something else for now.

I look at my shelf, but I’ve read everything here a million times already. Hmmm.

“Dinnertime,” Mom calls up the stairs. I have an idea.

When I get down to the kitchen and sit at the table, I ask, “Mom, do we have a bible?”

She walks over with the bowl of food and sets it on the table. “Well, probably. I haven’t seen it in a long time. You want to read it?”

“Yeah, I’m done with the archeology book but maybe I can start finding the references to the places in the bible. I was going to wait for Natalie but she won’t be back until next weekend and I don’t have anything else new to read.”

She looks over at Dad. He shrugs. “Well, I’ll look for it after dinner,” she tells me.

“Okay, thanks.”

I eat some noodles. I have to wait until after dinner to get the bible. None of us are talking while we eat, not even Mom.

After Dad finishes, he gets up. “I’m going next door,” he says.

“Honey, can’t you just stay here tonight?” Mom asks, while she puts dishes in the sink.

He huffs out a sigh. “I was cooped up here all day. I want to get out of the house for a while.”

Mom puts down a plate way harder than she needed to, and it makes a crashing noise that hurts my ears.

“Really? Mike, come on. I was working all day, why can’t you just stay here? Maybe we can watch a movie together.” She isn’t quite yelling, but it’s still too loud.

I’m sitting frozen at the table, staring at my hands. This is very unpleasant.

Dad stomps over to the closet and gets out his jacket. “Not tonight. Maybe another time.”

“Fine!” she yells, and I can tell it surprises him as much as it does me. Mom never yells.

He stands next to the door, staring at her, like he can’t decide what he should do now.

She is staring back at him from the sink. “Just go,” she says, and her voice sounds strange, like she’s crying.

I feel like I want to cry too. Watching my parents have an argument is awkward and awful.

He stares at her for another second, then just turns around and leaves without saying anything else.

Mom and I stay still for a minute. I hear her sniff. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I want to go back up to my room and get away from this.

But then I feel Guardian nudging me in my mind. He must be using extra energy. I can’t tell what he’s saying, but I suddenly remember what happened when Natalie started crying, that time that Angel told us about God. I know what I have to do.

I get up from the table and go over to the kitchen where Mom is leaning against the sink, wiping her eyes and pretending like she isn’t crying.

I walk over to her and put my arms around her waist. “It’s okay Mom.”

She gasps in a breath and hugs me tight for a minute, and I feel her crying some more, then she stops. I pat her back while she’s doing all that.

After another minute, she lets go of me and gets a tissue out of the box on the counter, and wipes her face. She throws the tissue in the trash then turns around.

“Thank you, Timothy, that was very sweet. I’m sorry you saw all that, though.”

I can’t think of anything to say about any of this, so I just nod my head.

“Well,” she says, “how about we go try to find the bible. I think it might be in my closet, in a box of stuff that we never got around to opening after we moved in here. Want to help me look?”

“Yes,” I say, and follow her back upstairs.