Page 18

It was a beautiful day in the park, and Daphne wanted to see it all.

I swear she touched every flower, pointed out every bird, chipmunk, and squirrel, and said hello to every person we passed.

I took her to lunch on Broadway, to a tourist hot spot where the servers break out in songs between serving the patrons. I’ve never seen someone smile so much.

By the late afternoon, as we were wrapping up a tour of the super crowded Times Square, I was falling asleep on my feet.

Knowing we would be out in the city all day, I shouldn’t have stayed up so late, but at least I managed to email almost twenty demonologists and theology scholars about our predicament.

Of course, I told them I was researching crossroads demon lore for a documentary I was writing, instead of the truth. I doubt anyone would believe the truth anyway. I’ve been checking my emails off and on all day, anxious for a reply, but there’s been nothing yet.

Daphne is currently bent over a table, shoulder to shoulder with an out-of-towner, the table filled with knock-off watches and perfumes. She holds up a gaudy gold watch and waves it at me, shouting, “Can you believe this is only five bucks?”

“That’s because it’s a fake,” I say, putting my hand on her elbow, guiding her away. “That will turn your wrist green in a day.”

She giggles as the vendor shouts obscenities at me, and her innocent excitement makes me smile. I really don’t want her to go. “What do you say we head back home? It’s been a long day.”

Her face drops, but she nods. “You do have work tomorrow, don’t you?”

“Unfortunately,” I say as we walk off toward home.

“I might be wrong,” she says, “but you don’t seem to like your job very much. Why do you stay? Why not do something different?”

“It’s not that,” I say, touched by her thoughtfulness. “It’s just that since I’ve taken on Garrett's old position, my workload has doubled. I suppose things will calm down once I settle into it.”

“Hope so,” she says, and we continue the rest of our walk home, silently observing the sounds and sights of the city.

Returning to the apartment, we decide that pizza and a movie would make the perfect ending to our day.

She selects a murder mystery that I’ve never heard of, and I order us a large pepperoni.

As we start the movie and wait for the food delivery, I take a second to check my emails again, and my heart skips a beat when I see two replies from last night's inquiries.

The first reply is from a demonologist who says the only way to free a crossroads demon is to receive a pardon from the devil himself.

He lists rituals that have been performed to call upon the devil to request a pardon, but he also says there is no record of it ever being successfully done.

Hopefully, the next reply will offer more value.

The Second email is from Dr. Jerome McLantis, a theology professor at Ledgemont University. I read the body of the email out loud, and under my breath.

“Your project sounds very interesting, and I am happy to help in any way that I can.

From what I have studied about demons, particularly, of the crossroads or soul-bargaining variety, my understanding is fairly limited.

It is my opinion, developed by the ancient texts I have studied, that a demon of any status may only be freed by an act of the devil (Lucifer) or through direct divine intervention (God).

That being said, I believe in the complexities of defining the word “God.” According to Abrahamic belief, in the Bible, and all of its translations, there has been a consistent agreement among the scholars on one concept: God is Love.

Many of us believe that the two are interchangeable words.

Therefore, going back to the ancient demon texts, one may surmise that a demon could be freed by an act of ultimate unconditional love. Perhaps sacrificial love.

This is all of course, just a theory, but I hope it helps you in your creative venture. Feel free to reach out with any further questions.”

I sit back and glance at Daphne. I wonder if an act of absolute love could save her.

But even if it could, it doesn’t help our situation at all.

I care very much about her. But do I love her?

I don’t know. And even if I do, I don’t feel like I am willing to sacrifice my own life, and be forced to serve as a crossroads demon, to free her.

“Hey Daph?” I ask softly.

She pauses the movie and turns to me.

“I just got some information from a pretty reliable source that an act of absolute love can free a demon from its contracts. But the thing is, if that’s true, wouldn’t that have been enough when I freed you? I was there to avenge Garrett, who I loved unconditionally.”

“True,” she says and nibbles on the inside of her cheek. “But you're forgetting that the deal you made was to save your own skin. The deal you made had nothing to do with your love for Garrett.”

That makes sense. “I wonder how that would work then? How could an act of love save you?”

She eyes me suspiciously. “Don’t you be getting any crazy ideas.”

“No, no,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m asking rhetorically.”

“I suppose someone would have to love me enough to take my place. I don’t know. Sounds like a bunch of human conjecture to me.”

“You're probably right,” I say, as the buzzer sounds from the front door. “That must be the pizza.”

“Can’t wait. I’m starving.”

“Same,” I say as I go to collect the pie. But I wasn’t starving. I have lost my appetite. My mind is now consumed with what to do about this new information.

I pay the guy and set the food on the coffee table, barely sitting down before Daphne grabs a slice.

I watch her dig in and moan with pleasure with each bite.

She really is quite a find. She laughs at the murder scenes in the movie.

She’s so beautiful and doesn’t even know it.

She's charming, inquisitive, and intelligent.

As I finally scoop up a slice for myself, a realization punches me in the face: I do love her. I love her completely. But do I have the courage to sacrifice my own life for hers?

My cell phone rings, startling me enough to drop my pizza, luckily onto my plate. I look at the phone, surprised to see it’s Lulu. She must need something.

“I got to take this,” I say, getting up as she points at the movie with her eyebrows raised and mouth full of pizza. “No need to pause it. I won't be long.”

I answer as I step into the bedroom, closing the door behind me. “Hello, Lulu. Is everything okay?”

“You're the one that’s gotta tell me that!” I have to pull the phone away from my ear, she is shouting so loudly.

“Calm down. What are you talking about?”

“I just dozed off on the couch and had another one of those strange ass dreams again. Only this time, you turned into a damn demon. What the hell is going on?”

I would like to know that too. This shit is crazy but I force a laugh. “It must have just been a dream, Lulu. I can’t think of anything that would make sense of…

“You better not be thinking of doing something stupid,” she interrupts. “I can’t lose another son.”

Her voice cracks, and I want to reassure her that I’m not planning anything rash. And it’s the truth. I’m not. “Honestly, Lulu, you're just dreaming this time. Everything is fine over here.”

Silence.

“Well, I am on a new medication,” she finally mumbles. “Maybe that’s messing with me.”

“I’m sure that’s what it is. Is everything okay otherwise? Do you need help with the bills or anything?”

“No, nothing like that,” she says. “In fact, they released some of Garrett’s funds to me earlier than expected.”

“That’s good,” I say, suddenly sick in my stomach and desperate to end this freaky call. “I’ll call you in a couple of days. Why don’t you go back to sleep now? You sound tired.”

“Sounds good,” she says. “Maybe you're right. I have been having a lot of odd dreams lately. I’ll talk to you soon. Just one last thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I never said thank you for being such a good friend to my boy. And like another son to me, too. Love is a rare thing to find in this messed-up world. I thought you should know that I love you for it.”

Now I’m starting to worry about her. “Geez, Lulu, you sound like you're dying or something. I know how you feel about me, and the feeling is mutual. Are you sure you are okay?”

“I’m fine as long as you're fine,” she says.

“All right then, it’s settled,” I say. “Goodnight, Lulu.”

“Night.”

I sit down on the edge of the bed and try to process the odd call. Why is she having visions of me as a demon? And why the uncharacteristic show of devotion?

I shake the thoughts from my head and force them down. I must be overthinking all of this. I guess Daphne is right, and there is no chance we can get her out of any of this. All I can do for her now is make sure the rest of her time with me is as perfect as it can be.

I feel like, at the very least, I owe her that.