Demon

Margaret

We have to wait a little while to get a table big enough for our group of five. Padilla’s is always quite crowded at lunchtime. Best little hole-in-the-wall place for Mexican food in town.

The waitress brings menus and water. And of course chips and salsa, which Gabe starts in on right away. I look over at him with a fond smile, thinking about how he is such a growing boy. He seems to have hollow legs, constantly hungry but never getting full. He’ll be as tall as his dad someday. Maybe even taller.

Then I glance at the entrance behind him, and can’t believe who I see coming in the door. Speak of the devil!

“Well, what do you know!” I say with a laugh, and Brenda and Ron look over at our table, startled to find us here.

The kids swivel their heads around to see what I’m looking at, then jump up and rush enthusiastically over to greet their parents.

“I didn’t know you were meeting us for lunch,” Gabe says happily. Natalie just smiles.

Ron laughs. “We weren’t planning on it. What a coincidence!”

Frank waves them over. “Come on and sit down.” He grabs a spare chair from an adjoining table, so there are seven seats for us now.

Caroline grins at Brenda. “How’s the honeymoon going?” Brenda gives her a meaningful smile. Is that a blush I see?

As they sit, the children chattering happily with their parents, I think that actually it isn’t that much of a coincidence. This has been our family’s favorite spot for years. Of course they’d want to come here for lunch.

“So,” Brenda asks the children, “what have you been up to?”

Gabe describes the morning walk we just took along the river. “Ah,” Brenda says, “how wonderful! That was one of the things I was thinking about doing with you guys while we’re here this week. I’m glad you saw it!”

Natalie asks, “Do you have other plans for the week? Like, are you going to visit anyone else?”

Gabe looks at her questioningly, wondering who she means. I wonder as well.

“Actually,” Ron says, “we are planning to go visit my Dad after lunch.”

Natalie smiles. “Can we come?”

Her father’s eyebrows go up, then he looks over at Brenda. “Well, I’m not sure,” he begins, but Natalie cuts him off.

“I’d really like to go, please. I want to meet our other grandfather.” She looks at Gabe pointedly.

“Um, yeah,” he joins in, still looking at Natalie, clearly taking his cue from her. “Yeah, we’d definitely both like to go.”

Brenda and Ron meet each other’s eyes. “I think it will be okay, Ron,” she says. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see the kids. He knows they’re in town, after all.”

He nods, resolved, then looks over at me. “Okay, sure. We’ll bring them with us after lunch then, and drop them off later. All right?”

“Of course. That’ll be nice for them to visit with their other Grandpa. Won’t it, Frank?”

“Yep.”

Then the sopapillas arrive and Natalie’s attention is thoroughly diverted. Gabe elbows her and laughs. She giggles back, already pouring honey over her fried bread.

Theodore’s

My beloved sits in his dimly lit home, surrounded by his stacks of magazines and papers, but he does not make his customary effort to sort through them. His memory is usually scattered, however he realizes that yesterday was the day that his son said there would be a wedding.

Although he has been a solitary creature for many years now, accustomed to being by himself, today he feels a renewed sense of loneliness. The visit from his son triggered a sense of longing in him, a nostalgia for the days long ago when he was surrounded by his family.

“My darling, if only you could sense me here, you would know that you are never alone. Your loneliness is unnecessary. I am your family, your devoted Guardian, ever present, ever loving.”

I wish it was enough.

He stares at his table, covered with papers, and at the wedding invitation that he had managed to find after Ron left his house the other day. He feels utterly alone.

There is a knock on the door. He breaks out of his reverie with a start.

“Who could this be?” he mutters, slowly rising to his feet and shuffling across the room.

There is another knock.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he mumbles so quietly that the visitor would be unable to hear him. I am focused on him, not looking to see who stands without.

When he opens the door, an amazing sight appears. I don’t know which of us is more astonished.

Me. I am more astonished. Despite his seclusion, he has often seen other people before. In fact he has seen most of these specific people before. He saw one of them just two days ago.

I, however, have not encountered a Seer in many an eon.

There she stands, a small child, her soul glowing with an aura unlike that of any of the other humans with her. The human soul normally glows with warm colors, varying in intensity depending on the individual and their activities. With this Seer, her aura is quite different. It shines with an intense white light, as bright as a star. It fiercely illuminates her surroundings, emitting a brilliance that would be blinding to her human companions if only they could detect it.

She is accompanied by her family, and by her Guardian, who has taken the form of an angel. This Guardian’s manifestation is highly detailed and obviously created for the benefit of the Seer.

I try to suppress my sense of shock, as my beloved greets his family. “Ron,” he says, “I’m surprised to see you again.” I am very pleased that he immediately recognizes his son this time, and that he seems oriented as to the time and place. He remembers the visit from two days ago.

“Hi Dad,” Ron says. “I wanted to bring my family by for a visit. I hope that’s all right?”

Ron’s family stands on the porch with him, to all appearances passively waiting to be invited inside. But the Seer is a flurry of unseen activity. She is engaged intensively with her Guardian, issuing a barrage of questions about the condition of my beloved. The Guardian assesses my dear one’s health, his mental state, his physical condition, his memory, his emotions, even his soul, and meticulously reports to her each finding.

My amazement, if it is even possible, heightens. The Seer is not just here for a family visit, I realize. She has learned, presumably from her father, that my beloved has impairments, and she is determined to learn about these, and, most shockingly of all, try to find if there is a way to repair them.

I feel a blaze of hope. Can this remarkable development lead to an improvement in the life of my beloved? Can this young child manage to bring comfort to her grandfather?

Theodore blinks, staring around at the group of younger people on his porch. It seems to him that it is almost as though fate heard his wish, as though his sadness over the absence of his family somehow brought them here to him. “Yes, yes,” he manages to say, “I’m glad you came by. Please come in.”

He moves back from the door, and as the group crowds into his entryway, he realizes somewhat helplessly that there is no place for them to all sit down together. The Seer quickly questions her Guardian, and offers the solution.

“Hi, Grandfather, I am Natalie,” she says sweetly, gazing up into his face. “I’m happy to meet you.” She moves her hand, indicating the cluttered living room. “Would it be all right if my brother and I move some things off the couch in here so we can sit down?”

My beloved is moved, to not only meet the granddaughter that he only learned of two days ago, but to have her make this kindhearted introduction. He makes an effort to smile down upon her. He has not smiled for a long time.

“Yes, of course, that would be fine,” he responds to her question.

“Come on Gabe,” she says, and marches straight over to the couch, her older brother following amiably along behind. They must dodge past piles of belongings stacked on the floor. She immediately sets to work on her project. She lifts a few items from one end of the sofa, and indicates to her brother what he should pick up.

Ron’s eyes widen, and he says, “Hold on, I’ll help,” moving into the room to supervise and assist.

My dearest is frozen in place, watching this veritable invasion of his isolation. He is both pleased and dismayed.

The children’s mother reaches out to him, as they both wait for the others to clear some room to sit. “Hi, Theo,” she says. “Remember me? I’m Brenda.”

He shifts his gaze away from the activity in the living room, and focuses on her. “Yes, hello Brenda. I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“It’s really nice to see you again,” she tells him, and he seems to acclimate to the reality of this visit.

He smiles at her, his second smile in many years. It is easier this time.