Demon

Natalie’s

My beloved is enjoying the time outdoors, walking through the trees and along the bank of the river, which flows placidly to our left. The Spring sunshine warms the group as they stroll together down the path, chatting amiably, in no hurry to be anywhere else.

“It feels very pleasant for you, to be outside, doesn’t it, my dear? You tend to spend so much time indoors talking with Timothy or reading, that I don’t think you have developed much of an appreciation for the beauty of nature. Please enjoy this time, beloved.”

She silently agrees with me. “True,” she thinks to me. “It hardly ever occurs to me and Timothy to go outside to play. Maybe we should do it more. This is really nice.” The breeze whispers along the leaves in the trees, as I whisper to her while we move through them.

She is walking behind her grandmother and aunt, who are caught up in conversation. Behind her are her grandfather and brother, engaging in a discussion of their own. She listens quietly, drinking in the scenery along the route. A passerby might think she is being left alone to fend for herself, but of course she is never alone. She has no shortage of conversation with me.

Her attention is captured by hearing her grandmother say the name of her father. She listens more closely.

“Ron told Brenda that his dad is having some trouble. I didn’t get the whole story, but apparently his house is run down and he is having some kind of health problem.”

Caroline responds, “I haven’t seen Ron’s father in forever. I think it must have been way back when Gabe was a baby.”

Margaret nods. “I think the last time had to have been not long after his wife’s funeral. That was a sad business. Then after the divorce, we didn’t see any need to stay in contact with Brenda’s ex father-in-law.”

“What are they talking about?” Natalie silently inquires.

“The day before the wedding, your father went to visit his own father. They had not seen each other in many years. Your father discovered that your grandfather is suffering from some type of affliction, and has not been able to properly care for his home.”

“What affliction?”

“I do not know the details.”

She is silent for a moment, thinking. Hearing that her grandfather, whom she has never seen, is having troubles of course triggers her empathic side, and she wishes to learn more, to determine whether anything can be done to help. “Can you ask Knight? He would have seen whatever Dad saw when he was there.”

“Of course, my dear, I will ask your father’s Guardian for details. One moment.”

It continues to prove convenient that we have learned how to communicate with each other over any distance. Previously, I would not have been able to access the thoughts of Guardians who were not in my vicinity. Now, however, our family group remains in fairly constant contact, in order to satisfy the Seer’s desire for shared knowledge.

It is also convenient that Natalie has taken it upon herself to assign each of us a name. I must remember to address her father’s Guardian as Knight, her mother’s as Lady, and her brother’s as Aaron. This makes conversations easier, even for us. Although to be sure, holding conversations of any kind would never have happened without the impetus of the Seer. The other Guardians near us usually observe with amazement as we speak directly to each other, something none of them would ever dream of doing.

Using the additional energy required to reach out to Ron’s Guardian, I inquire, “Knight? Natalie wishes to know further details about the status of her paternal grandfather. She only knows the bare minimum, as related by her mother. Can you share additional information about what is troubling him?”

Knight quickly responds. “Of course, Angel. When Ron arrived at the house of his father, he was surprised to see that the exterior appeared unkempt, with the yard apparently untended, the roof in some disrepair, and a window frame broken. It took some time for his father to respond to the knock on the door. When he finally opened the door and allowed Ron to enter, it became clear that the interior was cluttered, so full of items and debris that Theodore could barely move about the room.”

I repeat this information to Natalie. She wants details about his health. “What about his ‘affliction’? It sounds like there is more than just a messy house?”

“Please go on, Knight. Natalie is concerned about the report that Theodore’s health may be impaired.”

“Yes, it is so. Ron does not know the extent of it, and Theodore either does not understand what is wrong, or has not been able to obtain a diagnosis. He is mentally foggy, forgetful, and has a substantial tremor in his hands. He has lost weight and appears significantly older than would be caused by the actual passage of time since Ron last saw him. He is extremely reluctant, even afraid, to consider leaving his home for any purpose. Hence his inability to attend the wedding. His Guardian tries to assist, but his messages of support have no effect.”

I repeat these words to Natalie. Her brow furrows. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

“I do not know, my dear.”

She sighs, stymied. “Well, how are Mom and Dad doing? You might as well find out while you’re talking to Knight.”

“Thank you, Knight. Natalie wishes to know if her parents are well.”

I sense the smile coming through Knight’s thoughts, along with the image of the physical intimacy that her parents have been sharing with much enthusiasm since they returned to the hotel last night. I smile at Natalie, and offer her an edited, age-appropriate rendition of their activities.

“They are very well, my darling, and are greatly enjoying each other’s company. They appear to be napping at the moment, in their hotel room. They are quite happy.”

“Okay,” she thinks to me. “Please thank Knight for letting us know.”

“The Seer sends her thanks, Knight. As I send mine.”

I nod at her to let her know that I have conveyed her message to Knight, then lapse into silence by her side.

She returns my nod contentedly, then resumes gazing thoughtfully at the quiet river as we pass by.

Ron

I’m awakened by the feeling of Brenda moving within my arms. I guess we had both fallen asleep, after we tried to get up earlier in the morning but then ended up straight back in bed again. It is a honeymoon, after all.

She murmurs, “Good morning. Again.”

“Mmmm.” I caress her hair, which is spread across us both. I love her hair. “Good morning, O Best Beloved.”

After a minute she moves to get up.

“No,” I protest, tightening my arms around her. “Stay here. Please. Don’t go.”

She chuckles and settles back down against my chest. “You planning to stay in bed all day?”

“Obviously. There is nothing out of this bed that I could possibly need.”

“What about breakfast?”

I lift my head just far enough to see the digital clock on the nightstand behind her. “I think it’s too late for breakfast.”

She leans back to look at the clock too, and bursts out laughing. “Lunch, then?”

My traitorous stomach chooses that moment to loudly grumble. “Okay, fine. I suppose we have to eat. Room service? We can have them bring the food right here to the bed.”

She smiles and relaxes against me again. “Sounds wonderful. But, I have another idea.”

“Does it involve getting out of this bed?”

“Sadly, yes. But I think you’ll agree with me.”

I sigh, melodramatically, tragically. It makes her laugh. “You wound me, woman. But fine. We’ll do anything you want. What’s the plan?”

“Well, I’m thinking it would be nice to go check on your Dad.”

Oh. Yeah, that whole thing. I suppose she’s right. “Okay, we can do that. He’s probably wondering if I’ll show up again. Before another decade goes by.” She sits up, and I follow her, not willing to let go of her yet. “I have to warn you though, it’s depressing. The house is a shambles, and he is different. Like, so much older and feebler than I ever imagined. I don’t know exactly what’s wrong, but it’s way worse than I expected.”

She nods, and leans over to kiss me. “I know, that’s what you said before. And that’s exactly why we should go.”

“Why are you always right about everything?”

She laughs. “Just keep that in mind for the future.”

“Always. I will never forget it again.”

That triggers more kissing.

“Okay, okay,” she says finally, pushing away from me, “we have to stop or we’ll never get out of here. We will starve to death, or at least sex each other to death, and your father will end up having to be taken away by elder services or something.”

“Always right, like I said. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll get ready to go, but only if you’ll take a shower with me.”

She smirks, raises an eyebrow at me, and saunters sexily towards the bathroom, her glorious hair brushing against her bare back.

I feel myself spring to attention. She’s right again. She knows exactly how to motivate me to get out of bed.