The Devil and Danielle Webster (11 page)

Tina said, “Father Fritz isn’t finished with his story.”

“I took the hot sauce bottle with me that night,” Father
Fritz went on, and we all hushed to listen.  “I didn’t think I should let
him out, and I was afraid Dad would do so, accidentally.  I think I
mentioned already that Dad’s been really cranky and difficult, even before the
sudden departure of Mr. Lassiter.  I’ve been at this motel for most of the
month I’ve been in
town,
just to have a little
breathing room.  Well, I’ve been leaving the hot sauce bottle on the
counter in the bathroom, and when I got home last night, I didn’t really notice
that it was gone.  But at about six this morning, I was heading back out
to Dad’s, thinking I could get his lawn mowed before it got too hot, and
suddenly I realized the bottle hadn’t been in the bathroom when I brushed my
teeth this morning.  So I turned around in a hurry, got back to the motel
and was asking about it, when you two showed up,” he said, nodding to Patty and
me.  “I think the maid may have taken it out of the room yesterday when
she was cleaning.”    

Father Fritz turned to me.  “So when did you come into
the picture?  How did he get out?”     

Oh, dear.  I looked around.  Doug, damn him, was
looking amused.  Tina looked like she expected answers, and they’d better
be good.  Patty looked sympathetic, of course. 
Evie
looked around for a waitress.  “More coffee,” she called out.

“It was all because I was bored a few nights ago,” I
started.  

“No, it was last night,” Patty reminded me. 

“Oh, yeah.
  Last night. 
Last night was a really long night.”

“I noticed that, too,” said Father Fritz.  “I caught up
on a lot of sleep.”

“I didn’t,” Doug said.

“I didn’t either,” I said.

Patty explained, “We’ve all been up all night, and some of
us even longer.”

“I think I was going to put the hot sauce on my fries,” I
explained.  “At least, I opened the bottle, and that’s the only reason I
can think of.”

“Interesting,” Father Fritz commented.  “That’s good to
know, that Mr. Lassiter (or whatever you want to call him) can exert some
influence beyond the confines of the bottle.  His power is strong indeed.”

“Like the One Ring of Power,” said Doug with interest. 
“It hopped right off Gollum’s finger when it saw its opportunity.” 

“I’ll make this short, because I’ve repeated the story, and
because we need to get back to the motel and check on him,” I went on.  “I
voiced the wish to relive my early twenties—“

“An understandable wish,” said Father Fritz, smiling
sympathetically at me.  “I’ve often wished that, myself.”

I looked at him gratefully.  “Well, in my twenties I
was dating Doug here, so I was wishing for him as, um, part of the package, in
a way.”

“You know, I think I remember hearing about you,” Father
Fritz said. 

“That would be me,” Doug said.  “When I married Tina,
she wanted to celebrate Mass at our wedding, and I owed about five years’ worth
of confession by then.  I sort of coughed it all up at once.”

“You make me sound like a hairball,” I said in disgust.

“More like a case of salmonella,” Tina said sweetly.

“Now that’s bad,”
Evie
said. 
“I got that from bologna salad served at a cookout once. 
Sick as a dog for three days.
  We narrowed it down to
the bologna salad because the people who didn’t get sick, like your father,
girls, hadn’t tried any of it.”

“What a bunch of bologna,” Patty said in my ear.

“So anyway, I was suddenly confronted with Daemon Lucifer,”
I went on, “and he managed to get me to sign a contract for a night with my old
boyfriend.  He told me that since I was an atheist, it wouldn’t mean
anything.”

“Atheist!”
Mom spluttered.

“Hang on, Mom, I did dispute that.  I told him I was a
lapsed Lutheran—“

“Lapsed Lutheran!”
Mom spluttered.

“—and he told me if I didn’t believe in souls it was a
freebie—“

“Didn’t believe in souls!”
Mom
spluttered.

“But I think he was lying,” I concluded.  “And now he’s
got Doug’s signature, too, all because Doug wanted to get home.”

“How did Doug get involved?” asked Father Fritz. 

“I was suddenly dropped here in Bullhead City, out of a
sound sleep, just yanked out of my own bed in Schaumburg,” Doug said
virtuously.

“Is this all about the role-playing game?”
Evie
wanted to know.

“Yeah, Mom,” Patty said.  “You’ve hit the nail on the
head.”

“Danielle, should Emmy be involved in RPG?”
Evie
asked me.

“It’s Sponge Bob, Mom.  I don’t see a problem.”

“Oh.”

“So anyway, we’ve been trying to get the contracts nullified
because I didn’t get what was promised and because Doug and I both loathe each
other—“

“Danielle, please don’t be rude,” said
Evie
.

“Well, in a manner of speaking, mom.
 
We just want to get the contract we signed voided out.  It’s all a
terrible mistake!”

“Rush Limbaugh—
“
Evie
started.

“NO,” Patty said.

“Dr. Laura—“

“NO,” I said. 

“We tried an exorcism, too,” Doug reminded me. 

“That’s right.  Tina was awesome!” I said
generously.  “But he didn’t take it very seriously.  Oh, and he got
Josh in here for awhile, and one of my old students.  Tina and Patty were
here by then, but not Mom or Jill.”

“I’m not sorry to have missed Josh,” Mom said.  “I have
to be honest.”

“Everyone was glad when he left,” Patty told her. 
“He’s a stick-in-the-mud, and he called Dannie and me both sluts.”

“I thought he had some good qualities,” Tina said.

“I noticed that,” I said.

“So then when Jill arrived, she recognized him.  She
knew him as Brian Bunch—“

“Role-playing,”
Evie
explained to
Father Fritz.

“Yeah, role-playing,” I said, turning my head toward him so
I could roll my eyes without
Evie
detecting it.

“Doug, NO,” Tina said suddenly.  He was rummaging
through the diaper bag.

“Honey, I’m sorry.  The waitress hasn’t been here for
awhile, and that hot sauce and salt have left me so thirsty!” Doug said
apologetically.  “It’s just the baby’s bottle.”  He took a swig.

“It’s the holy water!” Tina said in disgust.

“Oh dear,”
Evie
said.  “It
reminds me of when Josh took communion with us and fed Mike a wafer.  Mike
was only two years old!”

“And he’s been a holy hellion ever since,” I finished.

“
Doogie
will just be extra blessed
today,” Patty said, patting his arm.  “No worries.”

“I’m sorry, honey,” Doug said guiltily.  “Father Fritz,
how bad was that?”

“No worries is right, Patty,” Father Fritz said.  “I
can bless water any time.  Leave it out, I might get thirsty.” 

“What a nice man,”
Evie
said to
me, nodding at Father Fritz as if he wasn’t in earshot. 

Just then there was a commotion at the front of the
diner.  Daemon Lucifer came strolling in, looking like a rock star. 
Not bad for nine in the morning.  Every woman’s eyes were riveted on
him. 
Including mine.
  Including
Evie’s
!  Oh geez—and including Jill’s.  She was
six steps behind him, and running to catch up. 

“Brian, please don’t leave me,” she wept.  “Brian, wait
for me!  Brian, we don’t have to check out until eleven!” 

“I’m exhausted,” the Devil told her.

“Then come back to the room and you can sleep.  I’ll
rub your back.  I’ll run my fingers through your hair.  I’ll do
anything you want.”

“Good thing it’s a big booth,” Patty said in my ear.

“So this is RPG,” said
Evie
. 
“Goodness, it’s better than a play!”

“I’ll sign the contract,” Jill said. 

“Don’t sign anything!” five of us said at once.

“Exorcism?”
Tina said to Father
Fritz.  He nodded. 

“I don’t want your contract,” said the Devil.  “Two
hours with you is enough.  I won’t have you clinging to me for eternity!”

Jill sobbed and tried to embrace him, but he looked
frantically around, and dived into an open bottle on the table.

“Just like that!”
Father Fritz
said.  “That’s exactly how he did it three weeks ago!”

Doug had grabbed a cap and was capping the bottle. 
“Only he missed the hot sauce this time,” he said, holding up the bottle.

“Holy water!”
Father Fritz
exclaimed.

“Look at it bubble,” Tina said, peering in through the
translucent plastic.

“That might be the best place for him,” I said. 
“As long as the plastic holds up.”

Evie
was still shaking her head in
amazement.  “WAY better than a play!”

“Give it to me!” Jill lunged for the bottle. 
“Please!”  Tears and runny mascara streaked her face.

“Come on, Jill,” said Patty consolingly.  “Danielle,
can you settle up?  The sooner we get her out of here, the better.”

“Good idea, go everybody,” I said. 

Mom put a $20 in my hand.  “That’s for me, dear—I added
a big tip because of the entertainment.  I’ve been to the dinner theater
before, but never a breakfast theater!  I wonder if Friendship Town might
want to rent a bus and come up
here?
”

“I’m sure you can check into that when we get home,” I
said.  “I’m just hoping Jill has some advice about the contract Doug and I
signed, so that we can get that fixed and then leave.”

I was the last to return to my room, but I did a swift head
count on entering. 
One bottle of holy water, check.
 
It seemed to have stopped bubbling. 
One sobbing boss,
check.
  She wasn’t bubbling as much, either, but had settled into a
mournful despondency.  One mother talking about
breakfast
theater
, check.  One sister,
god love
her,
who seemed like everybody’s best friend. 
An
ex-boyfriend and his wife.
 
The unexpected
priest.
  Oh, and an empty bottle of hot sauce.  Check, check,
check, check, and check.

Oops, one more item to check off.  “Where’s that
frickin
’ contract that has caused us so much grief?” I
demanded.

“Right here,” Patty said, holding it up. 

Jill came out of her slump.  “Let me look at that
thing,” she said.  She read the infernal paragraph aloud once more:
 “A night of passion with Douglas Robert Morris for Danielle Joy Webster,
to be delivered by Prince of Darkness Enterprises, in exchange for the souls of
Ms. Webster and Mr. Morris, payment date to be determined later.”

I was so embarrassed that I avoided catching anyone’s
eye.  I looked out the balcony door, absorbed in watching the traffic on
the highway.

“First of all,” Jill said, “there are no definitions for any
of the terms.  So this could be nullified for no other reason.  “But
the clincher is this: he made the sale, not in your home, but in your temporary
home, this motel room, and on that basis, the federal three-day cooling-off
period applies.  You guys have three days to cancel this.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.
  You’re actually
really lucky that he kept restarting your nights and taking you off the time
grid.  That cooked his goose.”

The room erupted in shrieks and hollers of joy.  I
participated in the most elated group hug ever, composed of Patty, me, Doug and
Tina, all of us literally jumping up and down because Patty was, so the rest of
us followed suit.

As the cacophony died down, I could hear
Evie
clamoring to be heard.  “Danielle!  Patty!  I tried to tell you
this before, but you wouldn’t listen!”

“No you didn’t, Mom,” I said.

“I did so!  Rush Limbaugh and Dr. Laura have both
mentioned the three-day cooling-off rule!  And you wouldn’t listen, and
neither would
Patty,
and neither would Jill!”

Patty and I looked at each other.  “Come on, Dannie,”
Patty said.  We both went over to Mom and swept her up in a big hug. 
“Thanks, Mom, and sorry,” I said.  “I’m glad you knew.”

Then it hit me.  “
Omigosh
,
what an idiot I am.”

“Why?” Patty asked.

“The Devil knew about the three-day rule.  That’s why
he tried to get me to stay with him for three days.  He didn’t even need
me to sign another contract, just to let this one I’d already signed go for
three days.”

“We’re SO over him,” Jill declared.  She took the
contract in her hand and lifted it in the air.  “Okay, you’ve both changed
your minds, right?”

“Please,” Doug said.  “You have to ask?”

 “Here goes nothing,” said Jill, and ripped the heavy
paper into little pieces. 

She headed with determination over to Doug and Tina, but
then stopped. 
“Any other signatures, any other
contracts?”

“There’s that very first one I signed,” I said.  “But
he said this one superseded it.”

“If it’s here, let’s tear that one up, too,” Jill
said. 
“May as well be as thorough as we can.”

“Now,” she said, “
if
there are no other
legal matters hanging over our heads, you’re all free to go.  Just leave
that bottle of holy water with me,” she said, holding her hand out to Doug and
Tina.

“Jill,” Father Fritz said hurriedly, “I haven’t met you—I’m
Fritz, associate priest at Doug and Tina’s church, Saint Francis in
Schaumburg.  I’ve heard all about you, and I want to warn you that opening
that bottle is not a good idea.”

Jill sighed.  “If you’ve heard all about me, you’ve
probably already heard the jokes about my poor choices with men.”

“Something
like
that,” he
admitted. 

Her eyes were brimming again.  “I love him,” she said
brokenly.

 “It’s never a wise thing to wear your heart on your sleeve,”
Evie
said, shaking her head. 
“Much
better to keep them guessing.
  Scold them all you want, but never
let them see you cry.”

Father Fritz seemed struck by what Mom had to say. 

Tina put her hand on Mom’s arm and said, “Father Fritz, this
is one of the wisest women I know.”

“Are you sure they won’t let her live in their guest room?”
Patty said in my ear.

“What if I open the bottle and promise not to cry?  I
can give him an earful,” she said with determination.

“That’s better,” approved
Evie
. 
“What do you think, Father Fritz?”

“I hate to
loose
him on an
unsuspecting world again—“

“Oh, the world’s been warned,”
Evie
said, tossing her head.  “The Devil rages about like a roaring lion,
seeking someone to devour.  That’s from the epistle of Peter, I believe.”

“First Peter five
verse
eight,”
said Father Fritz.  “You are an amazing woman.  And here I
am,
a man of the cloth.”  He sighed,
then
grinned at her charmingly. 

“You priests are the worst,” she said, and grinned back at
him.

“So that explains it,” Patty said in my ear.  “He was
devouring you.  He must have been devouring Jill.  How many other
unsuspecting women has he devoured?”

I looked at her in dignified irritation.  “Patty, cut
it out.  You’re not funny.” 

Tina was waiting for instructions from Father Fritz. 
“Are you okay with this, Father?” she asked, holding the holy water.

“Honey, my stomach is hurting,” said Doug.  “Excuse me,
everyone.”  He headed for the bathroom and shut the door.  I could
hear the bathroom fan switch on.

“Poor Doug, he doesn’t travel well,” Tina sighed.  “I
don’t think the hot sauce was a good idea.”  She walked over to Father
Fritz and handed him the bottle.  “Do what you think is best,” she
said.  Turning to me, she said, “If that demon gets back out into the
world, I don’t care what you do with him.  But don’t even think of making
any more wishes that involve my husband!”

“Believe me, I wouldn’t dream of it,” I returned, with what
dignity I could muster.  My dignity had sure taken a beating lately.

“Purely from a practical standpoint,” Father Fritz said,
“This plastic bottle is not going to hold up for long.  It was meant as a
temporary conveyance of water that had been blessed. 
Nothing
more.
  Unless we plan a more permanent containment, it probably
doesn’t matter much whether we
loose
him now, or
loose
him later.”  He handed the bottle to Jill. 
“But would you mind opening it in our presence? 
Just in
case you need help?”

“Thank you, Father Fritz.  I think I’m half in love
with you,” Jill confessed, taking the bottle from him.

“Oh, you’re just trying to flatter an old man,” he said,
smiling.

“No, she’s not,”
Evie
said. 
“And you’re not old!”

“You guys want to stand back?” Jill asked. 

“Friendship Town just HAS to take this trip,”
Evie
said.

Jill uncapped the bottle of holy water.

Nothing happened.

“Brian,” she said.  “Brian,” she said again.  “I
know you’re there.  Please come out.”

“Oh,” the voice of Daemon Lucifer came out, sounding weirdly
like a hollow echo from within the bottle, “I’m pretty content right where I am
for now.” 

“You come out right now, Brian Bunch,” Jill tried
again.  “What are you, a coward?”

No answer.

“If you don’t come out, I’m coming in after you,” she
said. 

“Ha!” the Devil taunted.  “You can’t even fit a finger
into this bottle.”

Jill jammed her index finger into the bottle and got it
stuck.  It took three of us to pull it out, and the resulting vacuum
caused Daemon Lucifer to reemerge from the bottle with a pop.

The first thing he said wasn’t even addressed to Jill. 
“Where’s the bottle of hot sauce?” he demanded.  His eyes fell on Father
Fritz.  “You again,” he commented.  “I should have known. 
Where’s the hot sauce?”

Father Fritz pointed to the bedside table where it had been
left.  The Devil strode over to it, twisted the cap off, and dived in.

“This role playing is simply astonishing,”
Evie
said in admiration. 

“No!” we heard an echoing shout of despair from inside the
bottle.  “Where is it?”  With a mighty POP, the Devil was back
out.  Slimed and dripping with red runny hot sauce, he crossed the room
and took a grip of Father Fritz’s lapels.

“What did you do with it?” he said, in a dark and
threatening tone.

“With what?”
Father Fritz asked.
 

“You know what.  What did you do with my diamond?”

The diamond.
  We all looked at
each other.  Mom looked utterly rapt.

“It went right into the hot sauce bottle,” Father Fritz said
uncertainly.  “I thought you must have gotten it back while you were in
there.”

“Well, I thought I did, but it must have slipped back out of
my pocket when Danielle opened the bottle.”  He came over to me, twice his
usual height.  “What did you do with it?” he said, stooping over me and
getting his face next to mine.

“Nothing!”
I squeaked in
fright.  “I didn’t know anything about a diamond until Father Fritz told
us about it.”

“I don’t understand,” Tina said.  “Father Fritz told us
it was really small, and you were going to donate it to the Pope.  Why are
you so anxious to get it back?”

“I’ll tell you,” Daemon Lucifer said slowly.  “That
diamond was the Diablo Diamond.  It’s the purest and largest Fancy Red
diamond ever discovered.  It’s mine and I want it back.”

“But no one has it,” I said.

“Oh dear,”
Evie
said.

“What?” the Devil said, and strode over to her.  “What
do you know?”

“It’s not that I know anything, just that Doug just had a
lot of hot sauce on his hash browns this morning.”

“Where is he?” the Devil shouted.

“Stop bullying my Mom,” Patty said.  “He’s in there,”
and she pointed to the bathroom.

Just then we heard the toilet flush.  We all
froze.  The Devil’s eyes were bulging.

Doug emerged, looking pale.  “Are you guys all feeling
okay?  I just threw up my breakfast.  Tina, how ironic, you were
talking about food poisoning before,” he said.  “I feel totally wiped
out.  Could it have been the hot sauce?  Oh, no—I may not be
finished—“

As Doug turned back to the bathroom, the Devil roared like a
lion, but instead of devouring anyone, he pushed his way into the bathroom just
as Doug closed the door again.  We heard some scuffling, the flush of the
toilet again, then a large splash. 

It took a long minute, but eventually Doug opened the door
cautiously and came out.

“Where’s Daemon Lucifer?” I asked.

“Probably halfway to L.A.,” Doug said.  “I heaved my
guts again, and he dived right in as I flushed.”

“Are you sure you want Friendship Town to see the whole
play, Mom?” Patty inquired.

Mom’s face was looking a bit green, but she said gamely,
“This worked out fine.  All the blood and guts took place offstage, just
like in Shakespeare.”

Patty and I looked at each other.

There was a knock at the door.