Practical Demonkeeping Chapter 10-11

10AUGUSTUS sea pissingAugustus saltwater sat in one of his high-backed leather checks massaging his temples, trying to formulate a plan of action. Rather than answers, the question, Why me? repeated in his mind standardized a perplexing mantra. Despite his size, strength, and a life history of learning, Augustus souse felt small, weak, and stupid. Why me?A few minutes earlier, Gian biddy Gian had rushed into the house babbling in Arabic like a madman. When seawater finally calmed him dget, the genie had told him he had open the fiend.You must look the dark one. He must consecrate the Seal of Solomon. You must commence himNow the genie was tantaliseting in the chair across from Brine, munching stump spud chips and envisioning a video register of a Marx Brothers movie.The genie insisted that Brine turn back some sort of action, scarcely he had no suggestions on how to proceed. Brine examined the options and shew them wanting. He could call the guard, tell them that a genie had told him that an infrared man-eating monster had invaded Pine Cove, and spend the rest of his life under sedation not good. Or, he could find the dark one, insist that he light the devil back to hell, and be eaten by the demon not good. Or he could find the dark one, sneak around hoping that he wasnt discover by an invisible demon that could be anywhere, steal the seal, and rouse the demon back to hell himself, but probably get eaten in the exercise also, not good. Of course he could resist that he believed the story, deny that he had definen Gian Hen Gian drink enough saltwater to kill a battalion, deny the existence of the supernatural altogether, open an impudent little bottle of merlot, and sit by his fireplace drinking wine while a demon from hell ate his neighbors. tho he did believe it, and that option, too, was not good. For directly he decided to rub his temples and think, Why me?The genie would be no help at all. With break a master he was as powerles s as Brine himself. With place the seal and invocation, he could devour no master. Brine had run through the more obvious courses of action with Gian Hen Gian to have each doomed in succession. No, he could not kill the demon he was immortal. No, he could not kill the dark one he was under the protection of the demon, and killing him, if it were possible, might release the demon to his own will. To attempt an exorcism would be silly, the genie reasoned would some nasty prelate be able to override the power of Solomon?Perhaps they could break dance the demon from his keeper somehow force the dark one to send the demon back. Brine started to ask Gian Hen Gian if it was feasible but halt himself. Tears were coursing down the genies face.Whats the matter? Brine asked.Gian Hen Gian kept his eyes trained on the television screen, where Harpo Marx was pulling a collecting of objects from his coat, objects obviously too large to be stored there.It has been so long since I have see n one of my own kind. This one who does not speak, I do not recognize him, but he is Djinn. What magicBrine considered for a moment the possibility that Harpo Marx might have been one of the Djinn, whence berated himself for level(p) thinking near it. Too much had happened today that was outside the straighten up of his experience and it had opened him up to thinking that anything was possible. If he werent careful, he would stick out his sense of judgment comp allowely.Youve been here a thousand years and youve neer seen a movie before? Brine asked.What is a movie? easy and gently, Augustus Brine explained to the king of the Djinn about the illusion created by motion pictures. When he finished, he felt like he had adept raped the tooth queen mole rat in front of a class of kindergartners.Then I am alone still? the genie said.Not completely.Yes, the genie said, eager to chair the moment behind, but what are you loss to do about make prisoner, Augustus Brine?11EFFROMEffrom Elliot awoke that morning eagerly anticipating his nap. Hed been dreaming about women, about a time when he had hair and choices. He hadnt slept well. Some barking dogs had awakened him during the night, and he wished he could sleep in, but as soon as the sun broke through his bedroom window, he was wide awake, without a confide of getting back to sleep and recapturing his dream until nap time. It had been that way since he had retired, twenty-five years ago. As soon as his life had go so that he might sleep in, his body would not let him.He crept from bed and dressed in the half-light of the bedroom, putting on make and a wool flannel shirt the married woman had laid out for him. He put on his slippers and tiptoed out of the bedroom, palming the door fold so as not to wake the wife. Then he remembered that the wife was gone(p) to Monterey, or was it Santa Barbara? Anyway, she wasnt home. Still, he continue his morning routine with the usual stealth.In the kitchen he put o n the water for his morning form of decaf. out of doors the kitchen window the hummingbirds were already hovering up to the feeder, stopping for drinks of red sugar water on their route through the wifes fuchias and honeysuckle. He thought of the hummingbirds as the wifes pets. They go too fast for his tastes. He had seen a nature show on television that said that their metabolism was so fast that they might not even be able to see humans. The whole world had gone the way of the hummingbirds as far as Effrom was concerned. Everything and everybody was too fast, and sometimes he felt invisible.He couldnt drive anymore. The last time he had seek, the police had stopped him for obstructing traffic. He had told the turn around to stop and smell the flowers. He told the cop that he had been driving since before the cop was a glimmer in his daddys eye. It had been the wrong approach. The policeman took his license. The wife did all the driving now. Imagine it when he had taught h er to drive, he had to keep grabbing the wheel to keep her from putting the Model T into the ditch. What would the snot-nosed cop say about that?The water was beginning to toil on the stove. Effrom rummaged through the old tin bread box and bring the package of chocolate-covered graham flour crackers the wife had left for him. In the cupboard the jar of Sanka sat next to the real java. Why not? The wife was gone, why not live a little? He took the symmetric umber from the shelf and set about finding the filters and filter holder. He hadnt the slightest idea where they were kept. The wife took care of that sort of thing.He finally found the filters, the holder, and the serving carafe on the shelf below. He poured some chocolate into the filter, eyeballed it, and poured in some more. Then he poured the water over the grounds.The c arrive atee came through strong and vague as the kaisers heart. He poured himself a cup and there was still a little left in the carafe. No sense w ithering it. He opened the kitchen window, and after fumbling with the chapeau for a moment, poured the remaining c absentee into the hummingbird feeder.Live a little, boys.He wondered if the coffee might not speed them up to the point where they just burned-over up in the atmosphere. He toyed with the idea of watching for a while, then he remembered that his exercise show was about to start. He picked up his graham crackers and coffee and headed for the living room and his big easy chair in front of the RCA.He made sure the fathom was turn down, then turned on the old console set. When the picture came on, a schoolboyish blond woman in iridescent tights was hint three other young women through a series of stretches. Effrom guessed that there was music playing from the way they moved, but he always watched with the sound turned off so as not to wake the wife. Since he had discovered his exercise program, the women in his dreams all wore iridescent tights.The girls were all on their backs now, waving their legs in the air. Effrom munched his graham crackers and watched in fascination. sentence was when a man had to spend the better part of a weeks pay to see a show like that. Now you could get it on contrast for only. Well, the wife took care of the cable bill, but he guessed that it was reasonably cheap. Life was grand.Effrom considered going out to his store and getting his cigarettes. A corporation would go good right now. After all, the wife was gone. Why should he sneak around in his own house? No, the wife would know. And when she confronted him, she wouldnt yell, she would just look at him. She would get that sad look in her meritless eyes and she would say, Oh, Effrom. Thats all, Oh, Effrom. And he would feel as if he had betrayed her. Nope, he could detention until his show was over and go smoke in his shop class, where the wife would never dare to set foot.Suddenly the house felt very clear. It was like a great va stackt warehouse where the slightest noise rattles in the rafters. A presence was missing.He never saw the wife until she knocked on his store door at noon to call him to lunch, but somehow he felt her absence, as if the insulation had been ripped from around him, leaving him raw to the elements. For the outset time in a long time Effrom felt afraid. The wife was coming back, but maybe someday she would be gone forever. someday he would really be alone. He wished for a moment that he would die root, then thinking of the wife alone, knocking on the workshop door from which he would never emerge, made him feel selfish and ashamed.He tried to concentrate on the exercise show but found no solace in spandex tights. He rose and turned off the TV. He went to the kitchen and put his coffee in the sink. Outside the window the hummingbirds went about their business, shimmering in the morning sun. A sense of urgency came over him. It became on the spur of the moment very important to get to his workshop and fini sh his latest carving. Time seemed as fleeting and fragile as the little birds. In his junior days he might have met the feeling with a unbiased denial of his own mortality. Age had acceptn him a different defense, and his thoughts returned to the trope of he and the wife going to bed together and never waking, their lives and memories going out all at once. This too, he knew, was a naive fantasy. When the wife got home he was going to give her hell for going away, he knew that for sure.Before unlocking his workshop he set the alarm on his watch to go off at lunchtime. If he worked through lunch he might miss his nap. there was no sense in wasting the day just because the wife was out of town.When the knock came on his workshop door, Effrom thought at first that the wife had come home primordial to surprise him with lunch. He ground out his cigarette in an empty toolbox that he kept for that purpose. He blew the last lungful of smoke into the amaze fan he had installed to ta ke out the sawdust.Coming. Just a minute, he said. He revved up one of his high-speed polishing tools for effect. The knocking continued and Effrom realized that it was not coming from the inside door that the wife usually knocked on, but from the one leading out into the front yard. Probably Jehovahs Witnesses. He climbed down from his stool, checked the pockets of his corduroys for quarters, and found one. If you bought a Watchtower from them, they would go away, but if they caught you without spare change, they would be on you like soul-saving terriers. Effrom threw the door open and the young man outside jumped back. He was dressed in a black sweatshirt and jeans rather casual, Effrom thought, for someone carrying the formal invitation to the end of the world.Are you Effrom Elliot? he asked.I am. Effrom said. He held out his quarter. Thanks for stopping by, but Im busy, so you can just give me my Watchtower and Ill read it later.Mr. Elliot, Im not a Jehovahs Witness.Well, I have all the insurance I can afford, but if you leave me your card, Ill give it to the wife.Is your wife still alive, Mr. Elliot?Of course shes alive. What did you think? I was going to tape your business card to her tombstone? Son, youre not cut out to be a salesman. You should get an honest job.Im not a salesman, Mr. Elliot. Im an old peer of your wifes. I take aim to talk to her. Its very important.She aint home.Your wifes name is Amanda, right?Thats right. unless dont you try any of your sneaky tricks. You aint no friend of the wife or Id know you. And we got a vacuum cleaner thatd suck the cover off a bear, so go away. Effrom started to close the door.No, please, Mr. Elliot. I really need to speak to your wife.She aint home.When will she be home?Shes coming home tomorrow. But Im warning you, son, shes even tougher than I am on flimflam men. pissed as a snake. Youd be best to just pack up your carpetbag and go look for honest work.You were a World fight One veteran, werent you?I was. What of it?Thank you, Mr. Elliot. Ill be back tomorrow.Dont bother.Thank you, Mr. Elliot.Effrom slammed the door. His angina pectoris wrenched his chest like a scaly talon. He tried to pass deeply while he fingered a nitroglycerin check from his shirt pocket. He popped it into his mouth, and it dissolved on his tongue immediately. In a few seconds the pain in his chest subsided. Maybe he would contract lunch today, go right to his nap.Why the wife kept direct in those cards about insurance was beyond him. Didnt she know that no salesman will call was one of the three great lies? He fixed again to give her hell when she got home.When Travis got back into the car, he tried to hide his excitement from the demon. He fought the urge to shout Eureka to pound on the steering wheel, to sing hallelujah at the top of his lungs. It might finally be coming to an end. He wouldnt let himself think about it. It was only a long shot, but he felt closer than he ever had to being fre e of the demon.So, hows your old friend? Catch said sarcastically. They had contend this scene literally thousands of times. Travis tried to assume the same attitude he always had when faced with those failures.Hes fine, Travis said. He asked about you. He started the car and pulled away from the curb slowly. The old Chevys engine sputtered and tried to die, then caught.He did?Yeah, he couldnt understand why your mother didnt eat her young.I didnt have a mother.Do you think shed claim you?Catch grinned. Your mother wet herself before I finished her.The anger came sliding back over the years. Travis shut off the engine. bugger off out and push, he said. Then he waited. sometimes the demon would do exactly what he said, and other times Catch laughed at him. Travis had never been able to figure out the inconsistency.No, Catch said.Do it.The demon opened the car door. Lovely girl youre going out with tonight, Travis.Dont even think about it.The demon licked his chops. Think what?Get ou t.Catch got out. Travis left the Chevy in drive. When the car started moving, Travis could hear the demons taloned feet cutting furrows in the asphalt.Just one more day. Maybe.He tried to think of the girl, Jenny, and it occurred to him that he was the only man he had ever hear of who had waited until he was in his nineties before going on his first date. He didnt have the slightest idea why he had asked her out. Something about her eyes. There was something there that reminded him of happiness, his own happiness. Travis smiled.