Demon

Jonathan’s

It is fascinating to observe how my beloved thinks of me, now that he is aware of my existence. His knowledge is tainted by the stories told to him by the Seer. She has biased him against me, bit by bit. She not only told him that my name is Demon, she then proceeded to interrogate him regularly about whether I have re-appeared, whether I am forcing him to do anything against his will. It is maddening.

Despite this, his fear of me had ended within a day of my arrival. He knows how much better he feels, and appreciates that with my return he is again whole. Still, he finds himself monitoring his feelings, as trained by the vexatious girl, to ensure that he is in control of his own actions and emotions.

Of course he is. I only ever encouraged him to do what is best for his own well-being. I am not a monster. I am not a demon.

Sadly, though, the use of that horrific moniker has created an image in Jonathan’s mind. He pictures me as an actual, physical demon. A creature of biblical terror, a vision created using images he has seen in television and movies depicting such entities.

Very well, I think, with an aggrieved amusement.

I have only ever created a vague manifested appearance during this lifetime. Before I was banished, I had shaped my matter to appear like a bland, basic human male, no details, as none were needed to feel close to my most beloved boy. However, since my return I have not attempted to re-create this image. I am formless at the present time.

But, I think it would be appropriate, if ironic, to shape my appearance to comport with the image Jonathan envisions. He believes me to be a demon. He pictures me as such. I will be so. I will do it lovingly, hoping to defuse his fear, render it powerless by shaping it, bringing it to light. I will not hide his image of me in the shadows. I will adapt to it. I will own it. I will overcome it.

I begin my work.

Michael

Having another nightmare sucks, but at least it got me out of bed, so I don’t sleep half the day and leave Timothy alone again. I feel bad about scaring him. I’m glad to have the chance to try to make up for it.

After I get dressed, I ask him if he wants to go out and do anything together today, but he says no, he’s very busy with his project. He tries to explain something to me about the charts that he’s making, but I can’t really follow what he’s talking about, so I just leave him in his room, where he is organizing a bunch of maps and books and papers.

The morning passes by. I’m bored. I’ve watched t.v. for a while for lack of anything better to do. I can’t seem to find a way to spend time with my son, but I figure I can at least get some lunch together for him. That’ll be better than yesterday anyways. I go look in the fridge, and find some frozen chicken nuggets that I can nuke. I’m pretty sure he likes to eat those.

While they are in the microwave I go upstairs and look into his room. He has this giant command center spread out all over his floor. He seems to have taped together several pages of paper, and has them lined up next to a map.

“Hey, kid,” I say.

He looks up at me, apparently surprised to be here in this reality with me, rather than in whatever world he was just thinking about.

“Oh, hi Dad,” he says, then glances back down at his work.

“I’ve got some lunch ready for you downstairs.”

He looks back up, surprised again. Ugh, I wish it didn’t surprise him to find that I’ve done something useful for him.

“Thanks,” he says, and gets up to follow me out of his room. He grabs one of the books along the way.

I put some nuggets and chips on a plate for him, and throw on an apple for good measure. Laura would want him to have something nutritious.

I expect him to immediately bury his nose in his book again while he is eating, but instead he looks at me across the table. “Are you feeling okay, Dad? That nightmare isn’t still bothering you, is it?”

Oh, wow, that’s unexpected. “Well, no, it isn’t. I’m doing just fine.” We stare at each other for a moment. He doesn’t meet my eyes, but that’s nothing new. I don’t think we really know how to interact with each other. “Thanks for asking.”

He nods, and now he goes ahead and opens his book. There we go, back to normal.

I’m finishing up my own plate of nuggets, when I see some movement out the front window, and I glance over there to see who it is. And WTF is this? There are Jim and Ethan, home in the middle of the day when I know they are supposed to be at work. Jim has his arm around Ethan, sort of supporting him as they walk slowly up to their house.

“What on earth?” I blurt out.

Timothy looks up. “What?” he asks, then sees where I am looking, and peers out the window as well. Even he can see that something isn’t right here. “Are they okay?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I tell him. “I think I should go and see if they need any help. Will you be all right if I leave you here by yourself for a few minutes so I can check?”

“Yes, Dad,” he sighs. “I keep telling Mom I’m old enough to take care of myself. Go ahead.”

“Ok. I’ll be right next door.”

I grab my shoes and head over. They are just getting up to their front door. It took them a long time to hobble over there.

“What’s up?” I ask them.

Jim looks over his shoulder at me. “Hey,” he says. “Ethan got hurt at work. Could you get the door for me?” He hands me the keys he was about to try to get into the lock.

“Sure,” I say, opening the door and holding it for them while Jim helps Ethan get inside.

I don’t see any obvious sign of injury, but Ethan clearly has something wrong. “What happened?”

“Hang on,” Jim says. “Eth, want to lie on the couch?”

“Yeah,” he says, sounding a little blurry.

“Here, let me help,” I say, and go to knock some of the junk off the couch to make room for him. There’s still some debris from the snacks we were all eating last night. We get him lying down with his feet up. He winces as he settles in. He lays there with his eyes closed.

“So…” I say.

Ethan opens one eye and looks at me. “I fell off a ladder,” he grunts. He closes his eye again.

I look up at Jim, thoroughly alarmed.

“Yeah,” he says, putting down the backpack he had slung over his shoulder when he got here. He sits down at the kitchen table, seeming worn out. “We were working, and I’m not sure how it happened, but I think Ethan’s foot just slipped while he was climbing up a ladder. He landed flat on his back, and was obviously hurt. The foreman didn’t want to call an ambulance, and Ethan was able to get up, so I just brought him to urgent care in my car. They took an x-ray and said that they don’t think anything is broken, but he sprained his back.”

“Shit,” I say, staring over at poor Ethan. “So, what’s he supposed to do for it?”

“They gave him some pain meds at the doctor, and a prescription for more. It’s called Oxy-Condo or something. I still have to go pick it up. They said if we can get a flat ice pack, he can lay on that to help stop the swelling. He’ll just have to wait it out for a few days. They said it should hopefully feel better within a couple of weeks.”

Ethan covers his eyes with his arm and groans. “Man, I shouldn’t have stayed up so late last night.” He isn’t quite slurring his words, it’s more like he’s just super tired. “I think I was half asleep at work today. That might be why I slipped.”

Well, fuck. Is this my fault? He was up late because I was over here playing Halo with them. Crap.

“Oh, man, I’m sorry,” I say. “Um, can I do anything to help?” I look over at Jim.

“Well,” he says, “there is something you could do if you’re willing. Someone needs to go to the pharmacy to pick up his prescription, and maybe see if they have any flat ice packs. You wouldn’t be able to do that for me, would you, so I can stay here with him?”

“Yeah, man, I’d be happy to. Give me the prescription, I’ll take care of it.”

Ethan mumbles, “The doctor said they’d call the pharmacy. They didn’t write a prescription.”

Oh, okay. “What pharmacy?”

Jim gives me the information, and I head out.

Then I remember Timothy. Um, I guess I have to take him with me. He won’t be happy about that, I don’t think.

But then, saved by the wife. Here comes Laura, home from work just in time. She walks in from the parking lot, and frowns to see me standing outside next to Jim and Ethan’s house.

“You weren’t over there hanging around with them, were you?” she asks, sounding aggravated.

“No! I mean, not really. I just went over because I saw them get home, and it looked like there was a problem.”

She glares at me and hurries into the house, clearly to check on Timothy. Oh good grief, I’m in trouble with her.

“He’s fine,” I tell her, following her in. She sees him sitting at the table finishing his lunch, and breathes an obvious sigh of relief.

“What was wrong?” Timothy asks me.

She turns around and looks at me. Thanks, buddy, for your intervention, I think. Hopefully now she’ll believe I wasn’t just goofing off.

I answer him. “Ethan fell off a ladder at work and got hurt. They just got back from urgent care. I’m going to go pick up his prescription from the pharmacy.”

Laura’s eyes melt, as she realizes that this wasn’t about me being a screw-up. “Oh no!” she says. “What’s wrong?”

“He hurt his back. Nothing’s broken, they don’t think, but apparently it will take a couple of weeks to heal.”

She puts down her purse and comes over to give me a hug. Mmm, this is nice. I actually don’t remember the last time we’ve touched each other.

After a minute I let her go. Timothy is staring at us. “Okay,” I say. “I need to go get that prescription. Be back soon.”

She nods, her face filled with concern. Better than annoyance, that’s for sure.

Laura

I feel bad that I immediately assumed that Michael was up to no good. I need to readjust my attitude. He’s a decent guy. I wouldn’t have married him if he wasn’t. I just have to remember that.

Poor Ethan! You know, I haven’t really spent that much time with our neighbors. Mike is over there all the time, but I barely know them. They’re young guys, though. I doubt that they ever have a home-cooked meal. I’ll bet it’s all junk food all the time. Ethan should have something healthy while he is recuperating.

I’m planning to make a casserole for dinner tonight. I check the cupboards. I have enough ingredients to spare. So that’s what I can do to help the neighbors. I’ll make a second casserole, so that they can have something to eat for dinner without worrying about what to do for food the first day that Ethan is back from urgent care.

Timothy is finished with his lunch, and he brings his plate over to the sink.

“How was your morning, honey?” I ask him, taking the plate.

“Good. I’m really glad you found that bible, it helped a lot. I’ll show you my chart if you want.”

“Okay. What’d you have for lunch?”

“Dad made me chicken nuggets.”

Oh! Nice, Michael even prepared lunch for Timothy. See, Laura, you need to give him a break. He’s just fine, even if he does stay out late at night.

I wonder what will happen now that Ethan is hurt? Will Mike spend more time with him since he’ll be home, or will he stay away since he needs to recover? I guess we’ll find out.