Page 34 of My Saintly Demon

“The woman was sweet on Faustus. He had charmed her already. She was hoping to turn him to her side, but he wasn’t having it. Yet she still saved him. Dave… it was your mother who got him out of there by appealing to the people threatening him. He was simply a man gone off course and they should show him mercy and forgiveness.”

“Like we teach them, too. Do unto others as you would have done to you.” I whisper, and Dave’s face pales.

“My mother died during childbirth. I never knew her.”

Mike stands and removes a book off a shelf nearby. Flipping it open to a page, he hands the book to Dave.

“There were seven angels sent to earth to walk among us and protect us from the evil that was seeping through from hell. Guardians, if you will. Your mother was one of them.”

Silence so thick it’s hard to breathe settles in the room. Dave’s eyes scan the pages of the book as his fingers dust over the images.

“My mother was an angel?”

“She was. And I think your dad needs to tell you the rest of the story.”

“How do I fit into this? Because I was a man of the church? How did you know I’d be here with him?”

Dave still stares at the photos on the page, unblinking.

Mike nods. “I knew whenever Faustus sent me his son it would be because it was time to tell him all this. And if it was time to do that, he’d want someone with him when he learned the truth who could help him process. Faustus made his own deal, you see. Well, a promise, really. And it was to Dave’s mother. Just like I would do anything for my wife, Faustus will honour Dave’s mother’s wish.”

“I need to get out of here.”

Dave bolts for the door, leaving the book behind. I move to follow but Mike asks me to stay.

“Let him be alone for a bit. He’ll come back to you.”

“Mike, I still don’t understand. Why me?”

He shrugs. “Because you’re a lost sheep too, aren’t you? And you’re connected to his mom through the church. Not intimately, but in a way that you may be able to explain some things to Dave. Faustus knows what he’s doing. I guarantee it.”

“Well, it would be nice if he could let us in on what he expects.” I glance out the door again. “I don’t like him alone. I’m going to find him.”

“Of course, I understand. I know how it feels to want to be with the one you love when they’re hurting.”

“What? I don’t love him. I barely know him. I just don’t want him to be alone. If I can help, I will.”

Mike nods, clearly not convinced by my words.

“You can help. You already have. I’ll be away for a few days. If you need anything, talk to X.”

I wave over my shoulder with a thanks and rush off to find Dave.

I’m not in love with him. I just can’t let him process this kind of news alone. That’s what anyone would do. Isn’t it?

* * *

After returningto our room and finding it empty and Dave not on the patio either, I change into a pair of jeans and return to the kitchen.

X isn’t there, but he was. Dishes wash themselves in the sink and a vacuum runs in the sitting room. Although that’s probably just a roomba and not magic at work. I think so, anyway.

I don’t feel comfortable wandering the huge house on my own since I’m a guest here, and I don’t know who else lives here. It seems rude. Now that I’m awake and not stoned, I notice the gorgeous landscaping out back.

Digging through my overnight bag, I find the two items I always carry and, even after the events of the last few months, I still turn to them to comfort me. My rosary and bible. Slipping on my shoes, I make my way across the lawn to a small pond with a waterfall feature. There are several chairs and tables set up bistro style, and the scent of newly blooming roses fills the air.

It’s peaceful and just what I need to get a grip on the new information about Dave. And honestly, myself. Part of me would rather find another joint and just let myself drift away into the fuzzy hugs it gives my entire body. Or a few gin and tonics to erase the memory, if I could. But no matter how hard we try, we can’t change things about ourselves overnight. Sometimes, it’s not possible at all.

After making myself comfortable in one of the chairs, the movement of the rosary beads through my fingers brings me focus and for the first time in a long time, I feel the anxiety slide off me and slither to the nearby pond, leaving me more focused than ever before.

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