The Voice Rambles On - 2. The Devil's Deal

The Devil’s Deal

Brian shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. Whoever was at the door would just have to wait a minute.

The pounding and ringing continued for a bit before it really sank into Brian’s head he wasn’t dreaming and someone WAS trying to pound his door down with his fist.

“Keep your britches on! I’m coming!” he muttered as he untangled himself from the throw blanket and rose from the sofa. “Must have dozed off reading again, I really have to stop doing that.”

The man on the other side of the door damn near fell into the entry hall when Brian finally pulled the door open. Reaching out a hand to steady the guy, Brian glanced at the clock over the mantle. It was 1 am for god’s sake! He let go all the venom that had been building through all the turmoil in his life over the last few weeks.

“Do you have any idea what fucking time it is? There better be a wild fire about to fry my ass to be pounding this way at 1 am!”

“ Aww come on baby, you can’t be that mad at me!” The guy was slurring his words, obviously drunk. “So I had a few too many at the party. That’s no reason to leave me there to hitchhike home!”

Brian rolled his eyes, and dumped the guy into a chair before they both ended up on the floor.

“You’re drunk! Who are you and where were you trying to get to? I’ll put you in a cab home.”

The guy looked at him thru glassy eyes. Tears began to fill them as the words sank in.

“You’re gonna throw me out, for getting tipsy at a party? But Bobby!”

Brian sighed.

“Look mister – I am not sure who Bobby is, but my name is Brian and you are obviously in the wrong place.” Brian wandered into the kitchen and poured a bit of water into a glass, dropping two effervescent tablets into it as he walked back to the front room. “If you tell me who you are, maybe I can get you home before you pass out.” He tried handing the glass to the drunkard in his living room, but it was too late. The man was out cold. Tossing the throw over him, Brian ran his hand thru his hair and headed to bed himself. He would sort it out in the morning.

*

Brian woke to an obnoxiously bright morning and a sick moaning in the other room. He groaned as he climbed from his bed, not relishing the task ahead of sobering the oddball in his house up enough to get him on his way.

“Should have called the cops last night and let them take him out by ambulance or something!” he muttered as he reached for a pair of sweats.

“Rise and shine buddy. It’s time for coffee and some answers. Let’s see if we can get you outta my house and back to where ever it is you belong.” The timer on the coffee pot had done its job well, and the aroma was wafting thru the house.

The only answer he got was a louder moan from the chair.

Brian had to pull the blanket from the guy and wave a cup of the hot coffee under his nose before he finally got some semblance of a response from him. The tousled head finally looked up as he reached for the coffee. Brian waited till half the cup was consumed before he tried again.

“You got a name buddy?”

The guy groaned again and whispered. “Luc. Do you have to shout?”

Brian chuckled under his breath. He could remember a morning or two the class mouse from biology had sounded like he was shrieking as he squeaked for his breakfast. He passed half an English muffin to the guy and waited.

When Luc’s head finally lifted and looked around, Brian couldn’t help but laugh at the man’s confusion. He had no clue where he was or how he had gotten there.

“New to the neighborhood huh? All the houses here look the same from the outside, especially at night. The streets all being variants of evergreen trees doesn’t help either, and you were drunk enough I am not surprised you ended up at the wrong place. Where was it you were trying to get to?”

“My cousin Bobbie’s place. He’s on Pine Hill Rd. Number 7 I think.”

“That would explain you being here – this is 7 Pine Street. Let’s get you home, and then you can sleep off the rest of your hangover.”

*

Beach front living had a lot to be said for it, but there were lots of drawbacks too. Brian spent the rest of the summer doing his time in a job he hated, working for a boss he hated even more. Bills were piling up and there never seemed to be enough money to pay them. One thing kept going wrong around the house after another and more bills piled up for the repairs.

The one bright spot was his afternoons on the beach with his surf pole. A few days after waking in Brian’s living room, Luc wandered down the beach and smiled at him.

“I was hoping to find you again somehow. I’ve been wandering up and down these streets trying to figure out which one you lived on, but I couldn’t remember what sort of damn Christmas tree your street was named for! I wanted to thank you.”

“Not necessary. Pull up some sand. We never did meet properly did we? I’m Brian.” He stuck out his hand and smiled. Luc took it and smiled back.

“Yeah, well…you could have dumped me on the curb, or called the cops. Hell – you could have been some psycho killer. I was so drunk I could have ended up dead or locked up. You were decent about it. Thanks.”

“Hey. I know what it’s like to be going through some rough times. No one needs things to get worse when they are already in a tight spot.”

*

That’s how things went for weeks. Brian worked, worried, and spent his evenings on the beach fishing and reading. Luc showed up more evenings than not and would sit with him for hours. They never seemed to talk much, but what was said sort of planted itself in Brian’s brain. He began to get all sorts of hair-brained ideas about how to solve his problems. Top on the list was making a deal with the devil. Luc spent a lot of their time together smiling to himself.

*

The storm was wicked. The worst the east coast had seen in years and years. Flooding and wind damage was everywhere. Brian stood looking at his home wondering where he was going to get the money for a new roof. His insurance company had filed for bankruptcy already, unable to pay all the claims the storm caused, and getting money out of FEMA was a long shot. He was outside the disaster zone.

“I can help.”

Brian turned, confused. He had sworn he had heard Luc’s voice right behind him, but there was no sign of him. He returned to sorting thru the things he had tossed into the back of his car when they evacuated the neighborhood during the storm. The garage was intact; he could set up shop in there till he figured out what to do.

“I can help. You just have to promise me.”

Brian spun around again. He must really be exhausted.

“Promise me what I want, and I can make all this better, the bills, the job, everything.”

“Okay, I need to clear my head!” He grabbed his surf pole and headed for the sand. What was left of it.

An hour later he was feeling better. He had convinced himself the voices were a product of stress and exhaustion. A nap and everything would level out. He was sure of it.

A new face wandered down the beach and sat next to him. The stranger smiled and stuck out a hand.

“Hi, I’m Hil. I’m a friend of Luc’s.”

“Hey. It’s nice to meet you. Have you seen Luc around since the storm? I knocked on the door of the house he said he was staying at but no one answered.”

“Oh, Luc is always around somewhere. He is sure to pop up.”

The guys chatted in a friendly fashion about sports and fishing for a while. Then Hil got up and shook his head.

“I’ll probably get into trouble for this, but I have to tell you. Don’t let Luc under your skin, he’s bad news.”

“He has always been pleasant to me. Do you two have bad history or something?”

“Something like that. Just, don’t go selling your soul, ok?” Hil turned and walked down the beach, the opposite direction from where Luc usually appeared from.

*

Brian shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. Whoever was at the door would just have to wait a minute.

The pounding and ringing continued for a bit before it really sank into Brian’s head he wasn’t dreaming and someone WAS trying to pound his door down with his fist.

“Keep your britches on! I’m coming!” he muttered as he untangled himself from the throw blanket and rose from the sofa. “Must have dozed off reading again, I really have to stop doing that.”

As he pulled the door open, a guy who looked vaguely familiar shoved a pizza at him. He was visibly agitated and impatient. Brian looked at the company name tag on his chest – Hil.

“Come on mister. I would like to finish these deliveries and get home to finish boarding up my house before the storm hits.”

“Oh, right, sorry. I dozed off waiting for you.” He handed Hil the money, with a tip, and smiled. “Hil is an unusual name. Can I ask about it?”

“My mother was a real comedienne. She named me Mephistophilis. I didn’t appreciate being the class demon when I got to college so I shortened it to Hil.” He turned and hurried back to his car thru the wind that preceded the storm.