Tim Pratt - Sympathy for the Devil

“Shit!” I yanked my hand and body back like they’d been in fire and doing so, lost my balance after touching something warm and furry. I didn’t know where I was falling because it was whoa-whoa-whoa backward. But still it was away from the tongue and that was all that mattered.

I fell on my ass. One of those breath-death drops where you land bullseye on the tenderest part of your spine. It sent an atomic jolt of pain up to the tips of my ears and then shivered back down my body, gradually looking for a place to stop.

When I could breathe again around the pain, I said “Rae?” Nothing. Then I said “Vito?” Silence. Nothing but me, the dark and whatever thing had licked me.

“Mr. Gallatin? My name is Beeflow. I’ll be your guide now.”

The voice was right next to my ear. Right next to it. I was on my ass, remember. It was a nice voice-smooth and low-but without warning hearing it so close to me in that all-out darkness, know what my first thought was? The very first one?

Is it little?

Is this thing standing up, or bending down to talk into my ear? How big is it? Not what is it, or how did it suddenly get two inches from my ear. How big is it?

Then I tried sliding away from whatever it was.

“Don’t be afraid.”

“Get away from me! Where are the others? Rae?”

“You needn’t worry; they’re fine.”

“Prove they’re fine.”

“Bill, we’re fine.”

“Rae?”

“Yes, sweetie, don’t worry. I’m in Los Angeles.”

“What? Where? What?”

“Yes! I’m at the Universal Studios tour with Vito. We’re about to go into the Back to the Future ride. I’m so excited!”

Her voice sounded like she was talking on a telephone. In her background was a lot of noise-kids shouting and laughter, some sounds I didn’t recognize. Then to my amazement, I heard the bold theme song to Back to the Future. I recognized it right away. We owned the video and would pop it in the machine pretty often because it was one of our favorites.

“Bill? We’re going in now. I’ll talk to you later, honey, and give you a full report. Do you have the tickets, Vito?”

“Got ’em right here.”

The son of a bitch! Ever since we got married six years ago Rae and I have talked about going to L.A. and especially to the Universal Studios Tour to take that ride because we like the movie so much. Now here was some moving man I didn’t even know accompanying my wife instead of me.

I was so angry at the thought that for a few seconds I forgot where I was and what had been going on.

“You see Mr. Gallatin, everything is all right. By the time your wife’s ride is over, you’ll know everything and the two of you will be back home again. But in the meantime she can be having the time of her life. Do something she’s always wanted to do. Isn’t that super? We try to make everybody happy.”

“No it’s not super! I was supposed to be there with her! How come Vito gets to go while I’m here with a sore ass talking to you in the dark? Who are you anyway? Can’t you turn on some lights?”

“You wouldn’t want that. You don’t want to see me.” He said it quietly and kind of to-himself sad.

“Why’s that?”

It was quiet a minute. Then he said something that slammed shut every door in my head. “Do you ever look in the toilet after you go?”

“What?”

“Sneak a peek at what your body didn’t want. Check to see what your stomach set free?”

“For God’s sake! That’s disgusting!”

“Tell the truth now, son.”

“You’re not my doctor! Why should I tell you that? I’ve had enough. I want out. How do I open this door?”

“If you open it you’ll see me and that will be the end for you.” The tone of his voice said this is the truth-don’t doubt it. “I asked about looking in the toilet because in a way that’s what I am. I’m everything about yourself you don’t like, Mr. Gallatin. I am the shit you look at in the toilet. Once a delicious meal, now just brown stink.”

I would have laughed in his face if I could have seen it. But since it was so dark, I barked out a loud phony one to give him the same effect. “You’re nuts. And why did you lick me? What was that all about?”

Now he laughed. “That wasn’t me-it was your old friend Cyrus. Who’s right next to me. Remember him?”

“No. Who’s Cyrus?”

“Why he’s your soul, Mr. Gallatin. Don’t you recognize it when you are touched by your own soul?”

“My soul’s warm and furry and has a tongue like a dog? I don’t think so, Mr. Beef-low.”

“Beeflow. You disappoint me, sir. Shall I give you a demonstration?”

“You can give me the key out of here.”

“All right.”

Suddenly the truck door opened-bam-and I didn’t think twice. I ran for the daylight and jumped off the lip of the back of the truck. Something smart told me don’t look back. Was there really a Beeflow or a Cyrus or anything else to further cook my already-barbecued brain? I didn’t want to find out. The only thing on my mind at the moment was to get the fuck out of there.

When my feet touched pavement I started running. I was so bent on getting someplace, anyplace away from there that I didn’t really look around. Why should I? This was my town. I’d lived here all my life. All I had to do was grab a quick glimpse of what was around me and I’d know exactly where I was. And just when the thought of taking that quick glimpse came to me, I heard something coming up very fast behind me. The sound it made scared me right down to the basement of my blood cells.

And whatever it was got closer while I ran faster, as fast as I could. Just as I cried out because I knew I was caught, doomed, the thing jumped on my back and knocked me flat on my face.

It was heavy. Huge. Whatever hit me had a lot of weight and that fact made it a ton more scary.

So I stayed down, a mouse with a cat on its back, my cheek flat against the hot street asphalt. I could smell it, along with other things. Something in my mouth was bleeding, my nose honked hurt. I tasted blood; pain flew around my face. I smelled the hot street.

“Pose, get down boy. Come back here.” The man’s voice wasn’t familiar but just hearing the thing on my back had a name, a name I understood, made me feel sort of better. But “Pose” stayed standing on me and did not move an inch of its heavy self.

“Damn it, dog, what’d I just say to you? Get over here!”

The weight left and I was free again. Looking up a little, I saw four large hairy paws moving away. Slowly I put my palms flat on the ground and pushed myself to my knees. My arms were shaking because I guess I wasn’t finished being scared.

“Jeez buddy, I’m terribly sorry about that. Pose gets carried away sometimes when he sees someone running like you were. He wants to get in on the fun. Still pretty much a puppy.” The voice tried to be friendly and apologizing at the same time. I was finally going to kick someone’s ass: Pose’s Daddy’s.

Standing again, I brushed off my hands and looked up real slow, Clint Eastwood-style.

Five feet away a giant Irish wolfhound stood next to a nothing-looking man. Both of them were on fire. I mean, both man and dog were in big bright flames. The guy was smiling and came toward me. Before I could do anything he stuck out a burning hand to shake and said, “I’m Mel Shaveetz. Nice to meet you. We just moved in here a couple of days ago. Haven’t met many people yet.”

Taking one giant step back, I jammed both hands as deep into my pockets as they’d go. Through his flames Mel frowned until it dawned on him. “Oh for God’s sake, I’m sorry!” He blew on his index finger. All the flames on him went out like he’d blown out a birthday candle. Like he was blowing himself out.