Lucy's Demons

Part I: Ritual

     "It's a miracle! I can't believe this is happening!" Reining in her excitement, Lucy continued in a whisper. "I know you don't know about it. And I'm sorry if it feels like I've deserted you. I want you to know I love you. I didn't forget you. I just haven't been outside much 'cuz it feels like he's desecrated our hallowed ground."

     Evading the unforgiving Texas sun, Lucy stood on the eastern end of her back yard shaded by her favorite tree. She closed her eyes and embraced her ancient friend with arms halfway around its broad trunk. On a low branch above her sat a demon named Gaap. He peered down with the same confusion he always experienced when watching humans. Existing on the aetheric plane, Gaap was invisible to the girl as he was to most all the uninitiated.

     Suddenly an agonized voice howled through the thin walls of a nearby shed interrupting Lucy's reunion.

     "It's hot as Hell in here!"

     She glanced at the white paper bag waiting by her feet on the dying grass and turned her other cheek to the brittle bark, lightly scratching her face.

     "See?" Lucy grabbed the bag and stomped to the battered old shed where her stepfather, John, spent most of his time these days.

     She hesitated outside the door, listening to the lingering death rattle of the outmatched a/c unit in the window.

     Took a deep breath.

     And walked inside.

     "Thank God!" squealed a sweaty, greasy-haired young man as he advanced on Lucy.

     "Back off, Skunk!" John shouted, raising out of his weathered easy chair to restrain the malodorous guest with an outstretched arm. "Go sit over there!"

     Since losing his job on the Liberty Hill Police force, John had abandoned the world for this workshed and a small television set. The room was perpetually dark and hot but large enough to be habitable with occasional visits to the house.

     "You get 'em, hon?" he asked looking at the bag.

     "You're going blind in here, I guess?" She raised it in front of his face and John snatched it away. He tore the stapled papers from the bag and unfolded them, feigning interest.

     Across the room, Skunk placed two spoons on John's workbench and hunched on a barstool in an upright fetal position. He whimpered and groaned every few seconds while John leisurely looked over the receipt.

     "Had a busy day, Luce?"

     She didn't answer. John tossed the paperwork onto a pile of trash, scattering a cloud of tiny black insects. Lucy quickly brought the neck of her T-shirt over her nose before any newly emancipated odors could assault her.

     As John ripped open the bag, he shot an annoyed glance at Skunk, then rested his eyes on Lucy and the blood red demonic sigil splashed across her shirt.

     "That stupid devil band again. It's a scam, honey. There's no such thing as magic," John concluded. The cypher belonged to Dantalion, the patron demon of Lucy's latest Goth-Rock obsession: Dantalion's Water.

     "For the millionth time, John! For me, it's about the music, not the magic act. They are phenomenal artists!"

     Skunk fussed a little louder just in case he'd been forgotten.

     "Anyway, about that..." Lucy began.

     John ignored her and shouted, "Hey! Do you mind? Yes, I hear you whining over there! We're all in pain, ok? Can I have one damn second with my daughter before I serve up your demons? Jesus!"