The Redemption of a Disgraced Demon
I’d finished laying the salt-laced sagebrush and sticks over the small pile of grey ashes. I wanted the ashes to be surrounded by as much of the flammable material as possible. The words of the old indian echoed in my mind, ”Leave no opening larger than one that would let a dove pass.” Satisfied, I lit a small torch and set it aside within arms reach. I pulled a glass bottle from my knapsack and poured the murky and foul smelling water it contained onto the ashes. Almost immediately a fog, or rather a cloud of steam rose from the gray pile of dust. I stepped back and watched as the steam tried to escape through the narrow openings of the stacked sagebrush. It couldn’t. Moments later, the thick cloud of confined steam flashed into purple incandescence, then the walls of the cavern reverberated with a booming voice, “I AM THE CORRUPTER OF SOULS--RELEASE ME!”. I picked up the lighted torch, advanced on the unearthly entity I had resurrected, and thought to myself, “You’ve done it now, Brad. Watch your ass.”
Fighting the fear inside me I retorted, “Listen up you despicable ball of gas! Obviously, you’ve noticed the salt-laced brush I’ve piled over you! One touch of this torch and ‘POOF’! Back to the powdered slag you were.” The purple glow stayed still for a few seconds then throbbed outward to its limits, “FOOL!” it boomed, “ MY DARK LORD WILL FEAST ON YOUR ROTTING CORPSE, RELEASE ME NOW!”.
It was at my mercy and we both knew it. I leisurely sat in front of the demon, pulled a strand from the brush pile, and lit it. “OK mister corrupter of souls…,” I mocked, “Let’s review the situation.” I waited for the trapped thing to stop moving and reduce its brilliance. “A little while ago after I’d sobered up in the drunk tank, an old stinking Indian begged me for a smoke, so I lent him a pack of Kools. In return he told me a story about how a Zuni medicine man, about 500 years ago, had tricked a demon into taking the form of a chicken.” The entity glowed brighter for an instant and I continued the monologue, “Well, the chicken was killed, its remains burned to ashes, the ashes were placed in a sacred urn and hidden away inside a cave.” I waved my hand to indicate the cavern we were in. “Anyway, that old filthy indian said that the demon could be summoned by the water from a tainted sulphurous spring.” The demon orb remained motionless as I continued, “It seems that an entity from hell can be confined by surrounding it with consecrated salt and trapped by burning in a salt incrusted pyre.” I pulled another strand of brush and lit it with the torch. The ball of purple gas contracted and became almost corporal.
This time the voice spoke in a lower volume and milder tone. “I must return to my dark prince. What do you require in return for my release?” Triumphantly, I put down the torch, stood up, and folded my arms. In a self-satisfying voice I taunted it, ”Well now, is ‘da mean ol’ deee-mond ready to deal? Eh?”. I saw no response from the basketball sized dark purple sphere. “How’s this sound…..”, I paused for a moment, “You, corrupter of souls, will become my servant and grant me three wishes.”
Almost instantly the demon flashed into blinding brilliance and expanded to the limits of the pyre. “SERVANT! WISHES!!! YOU FOOL!!!I AM AN AGENT OF MOLOCH!.
I lost my commanding poise, grabbed the torch, and held it close to the sagebrush pyre. The demon retreated to his smaller purple ovoid form and grudgingly spoke, “It is -- is -- a bargain.”
The demon’s outburst had startled me and I was annoyed. “OH-KAY, mister demon -- before I release you from that brush pile, how do I know you’ll keep your word?” I had waited for perhaps ten or fifteen seconds of silence when a spot on the purple orb glowed and spit out a small object before me. Kneeling, I looked closely at the object. It was a gold chain necklace with a shiny black stone attached. “This is my word and my bond.” In a voice tinged in bitterness it continued. “I will attend you as your servant and perform your three tasks, but afterwards you will relinquish possession.” Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind a tiny voice screamed, “Toss the amulet back and light the brush pyre!” I ignored it. With the demons allegiance trapped in the black stone of the necklace I pulled the stacked sheaves of brush and wood apart until the globe of the demon, now the color of gray, was uncovered. I stepped back and watched as the dull globe rose from the remaining brush and landed a few feet away on the cave floor.
With a flash of light the gray orb transformed into a human form. As my eyes adjusted to the dim illumination of the torch, I could make out what stood before me. It was a man, middle-aged I guess, bald on top with wisps of thin white hair on the sides. He, or it, was dressed in a formal charcoal gray suit with an ascot tie. Then the apparition spoke in a colloquial English accent, “I assume this is the form a man-servant takes in this day and age -- is it not?”
I was flabbergasted and confused. I grabbed the necklace and stood up. “Uhhh … demon?” I blubbered.
His brow furrowed and he looked upward as if he were contemplating, “Surely sir, I am your manservant. Perchance I can be called something else, Phouzt, or Alfred, or something more befitting my service to you.”
“Ok, Phouzt sounds alright … I guess. You will call me Mister Lake.” My demon servant mildly smiled and kept his eyes on the necklace. Noticing his gaze I put the necklace around my neck, inside my shirt and out of view.
“Now, Mister Lake, what will be the first task you desire?”
I had almost forgotten why I’d summoned him in the first place. “I want to be rich … not obscenely rich, but very well off.” There I’d said it. But wait! “And none of this crap about owing the IRS or money traced to a drug dealer. Just money, lots of it, and free & clear, got that?”
Phouzt reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a black credit card with my name on it. “Will 200 million dollars in a swiss bank suffice, sir?”
The mere thought of such a sum caused my jaw to drop in amazement. I looked closely at the black plastic card and asked, “How do I know this card is real?”
Phouzt picked up my knapsack and with an almost gleeful reply, “Allow me, Mr. Lake. Off to places befitting your wealth and power.”
With the snap of his fingers we magically disappeared from the cave and appeared in the lobby of an ornate and expensively furnished barbershop … no, it was actually a fashionable Rodeo Drive salon. Phouzt handed the black card to the receptionist and an army of personal care technicians consisting of hair stylists, manicurists, and tailors cleaned, cut, washed, trimmed, and dressed me. I soon stood in front of a full view mirror staring at myself after the removal of debris from many years of roughnecking in the oil fields and punching cattle. Instead, I was dressed in an attractive, but manly business suit and groomed to the point where I looked just like an oil tycoon, like the ones that turned their noses up at the sight of oil rig roustabouts.
“Is this not satisfactory, sir? Your appearance?”
I turned my gaze to Phouzt and grunted agreement and quietly whispered in his ear, “One thing though, Phouzt, from now on I want you to keep those people --“ I turned my eyes in the direction of the departing tailor, “away from me. I get real unnerved especially when a thing like that runs a measuring tape up my trouser inseam.” Phouzt’s face showed a total lack of comprehension. “You know,-- fairies,-- Nancy boys, --“ He still didn’t have a clue. “Hoe-Moe-Sex-Yew-Wales. Didn’t they have abominations like that 500 years ago?”
“Ah yes, I understand now sir.” He nodded agreement and then suggested we depart for accommodations and sustenance. I agreed and left the salon in a stretch limousine, glad to leave that pit of ‘sissys’ behind. We soon arrived in the biggest and most luxurious hotel I’d ever seen. After flashing the black credit we were whisked to a huge and elegant penthouse suite. Almost immediately room service arrived with a huge spread of food and an almost inexhaustible supply of premium beer! I ate and drank as if there were no tomorrow and after my belly could take no more, I collapsed on a huge couch. As the room service waitress departed with remnants of my evening’s feast I remarked to Phouzt, "This is the life I’ve always craved. I’m rich enough to have every little thing done for me and I have no responsibilities whatsoever.” I chugged another swallow of beer and chuckled, “You know Phouzt, I betcha that waitress would’ve chewed my food for me as long as I kept padding her tip ticket.” The effects of the enormous meal caused me to drift off towards sleep and my thoughts wandered back to the orphanage where I’d grown up. I remembered the tyrannical housemother who always took pleasure in prodding and dominating me every moment I was there. Sleep overtook me as I thought to myself, “Maybe I’ll go back and see that dyke bitch. I’d love to see the look on her swarthy face when she finds out I could buy and sell her like a cheap watch.”
The next morning Phouzt woke me and attended to me as if he’d been born to the butlers trade. Shortly after I’d finished a huge breakfast Phouzt asked, “Well sir, have you decided on the second task?”
I thought to myself, “Why not, another wish and I’ll toss the necklace into a volcano.” I pulled a magazine from my old knapsack, turned it to a fashion expose page, and said, “Her.”
Phouzt looked at the picture of the shapely model. “Ahh, I understand. You wish this woman, …” He read the picture caption. “Kathleen Concord … to be your love slave.”
“NO, you twit! This young lady is a woman of grace, of quality, and I want you to make her fall in love with me.”
Phouzt lost his jolly expression and admitted, “Mister Lake, what you ask I cannot provide for alas, I am only a demon and command the forces of lust, sloth, gluttony, and the rest. Love is beyond my domain. Perhaps my master would be very satisfied with his own private room in a Las Vegas brothel?”
I returned his leering look with disgust and pulled the necklace out where he could see it. The stone had turned from black to dark red because one wish had been satisfied, I assumed. “Well Phouzt, I guess this stone will find its new home at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.” My words worked, Phouzt looked very alarmed.
“One moment, one moment, sir.” He picked up the magazine and studied the pictures and text. “Ahhh, sir. Listen to what Miss Concord wishes for herself. When asked what her dream is, she responds: I would love to go away with that special someone to live on a ranch where we would raise beautiful horses and fat little babies.” He put down the magazine and pointed at me, “You sir, are wealthy, handsome, and able to provide everything this young lady desires. That is, with a little help from your bonded servant.”
I thought for a moment and decided, “You’re on, you set it up where I woo Miss Concord until she says yes to my marriage proposal, right?”
He made a broad, slow smile and replied, “Very good sir. Leave it to me”
Phouzt had us moving quickly and within an hour we were on our way to my newest purchase, an enormous horse ranch in Malibu. It was a beautiful Spanish style hacienda with stables populated by horses that I could only dream of years ago. These animals were a far cry from the nags we had at the Texas State children’s home.
Arrangements were made to make a substantial contribution to Miss Concord’s favorite charity, a home for foundling children. There was a catch though, Miss Concord would be required to accept the check at a party that evening. Phouzt even arranged for Miss Concord’s roommate to accept an immediate assignment in the Gobi Desert. The hacienda was soon buzzing with preparations for the evening’s event.
Guests including the rich and famous of Southern California society arrived shortly before sunset and were treated the finest wines, food, and liquor. Phouzt ran the operation like a well-oiled machine. I engaged in small talk and avoided references to my sordid past. I don’t think these elitist party guests would react favorably to an abandoned orphan who’d been in constant trouble with the law. It appeared to them, I was just another wealthy snob like them.
Soon the highlight of the evening came. Phouzt brought my fat charity check and me to everyone’s attention. It was then that I saw her in the flesh for the first time.
Her pale, blue eyes stunned me. Speechless, I looked at her delicate features, pale creamy skin, auburn hair, and skintight red dress.
Phouzt broke the trance by acting as master of ceremonies. Miss Concord accepted the check and graciously invited me to visit the foundling home when Phouzt dropped a bombshell.
“Why Miss Concord, Mister Lake has arranged for your children to come here to the ranch and spend the day riding horses.” The quests reacted by cheering and clapping. I was a hero, but more importantly I was a hero to Kathleen Concord.
The next day the orphans arrived and were entertained by the servants under the direction of Phouzt. In addition to allowing to ride the ranch horses, Phouzt had hired a small carnival ride troupe and a petting zoo for the smaller children. Kathleen busied herself with entertaining the toddlers. Phouzt had the female servants relieve her and that left Kathleen and I alone.
The first moments were truly awkward, but we opened up and talked about our hopes, fears, and desires. She was raised in rural Kentucky as an only child and traveled to LA to become an actress. I told her of my rough life starting out as an orphan, later punching cattle, and still later working the oil fields. I never told her where I had acquired my wealth and she didn’t ask. It was nearing the end of the day and as the festivities ended, that I invited Kathleen and a few of the orphans to remain as my guests for a few days. I was delighted when she accepted, after all, her roommate was away working in the Gobi desert.
Kathleen and I were together almost constantly while the servants attended to the five or six pre-school children she chose to stay with her. The only thing I objected to was the goats from the petting zoo. Call it a funny quirk but I hate the sight, smell, and everything about goats. Phouzt had them removed, or at least, out of my sight.
Besides riding horses we spent time together at the beach, sailing, talking, and doing all the things courting couples do. As the days passed I ached to ask for her hand in marriage. Finally, I mustered up enough courage to ask and to my surprise she accepted!
Having no close family, we decided to have the wedding at the hacendia the next day. Phouzt used his super-human powers to orchestrate the event, getting the preacher, inviting guests, and all the mundane but important details of a wedding.
Our wedding was special to Kathleen and I, but in reality rather common among the so-called upper crust society of well-to-do Malibu. After a lively reception, Phouzt took charge and cleared the hacienda until only Kathleen and I remained.
Later, I busied myself in the master bedroom with a chilled bottle of champagne while my bride readied herself in the bathroom. Soon she appeared wearing a delicate pink-laced teddy. I stood beside our turned down bed, wearing only boxer shorts, and holding out the champagne bottle with two glasses. “A toast before we consummate our love, my dear?”
To my horror I watched as Kathleen started to shake, her face became contorted, and she started to whimper. I dropped the bottle and went toward her, but she collapsed on the floor, crawled into a corner, and her whimpering turned into hysterical screams. I reached for the telephone and dialed nine-one-one.
I watched the doctor’s big black sedan drive away toward the highway and I chugged a big gulp of beer. I wanted to get totally drunk and I had a really good reason to do so. It was an hour or so before the sun rose and I wanted to be passed out by then.
“Out on the veranda for refreshment after the blessed nuptials, eh sir?” I turned to see Phouzt standing, oblivious to the events of the recent past.
“There won’t be any nuptials, Phouzt … no sex … NO MARRIAGE!” I emptied the remainder of the beer bottle and tossed it into the garden below. I looked at Phouzt and knew he didn’t understand. I grabbed another bottle of beer and continued, “ She’s gay Phouzt. … she’s a fluff. She’s soaking in the master bathtub, calming down.” I took another gulp of beer. “Her rat-bastard father in Kentucky had repeatedly molested her when he got drunk.” Still another swig. “That car that just left was her shrink. He says the sight of a naked man or a beer bottle triggers a catatonic episode.” I emptied the bottle and tossed it. “Remember the roommate? Joyce ‘sumthin’ or other, the one you packed off to the Gobi? She’s her significant other.” I grabbed another beer from the cooler and tossed Phouzt one. “Drink up, Phouzt. After tonight there won’t be anymore here.” As I popped the bottle cap, it finally occurred to me.
“You knew -- you son-of-a -- YOU KNEW SHE WAS THIS WAY ALL ALONG!” I was ready to break the bottle over his head, but I thought of something better to do to him. I tore the necklace off of my neck and held it out where Phouzt could see it. The stone was pale blue now. “This’ll be in a steel furnace soon!”
Phouzt crouched, held out his hands, palms up, and pleaded, “No, wait, WAIT, please! I can make it right.”
I was feeling quite tipsy from the beer I’d consumed, but I wasn’t convinced, “How?”
He hesitated for a few seconds searching for an answer. “I can fix this, sir. I can make Miss Kathleen adore the sight of you naked or not.”
Phouzt could see that I wasn’t convinced, but then things couldn’t get any worse so I gave in, “Alright, but if screw up this time, this necklace will be going on a one-way trip to the Marianas trench!”
Phouzt breathed a sigh of relief. “Well sir, for your third wish … “ and he snapped his fingers.
My gaze was transfixed on the stone in my palm as it started to glow white like a flashbulb. Then the stone started to grow -- size of a plum -- the size of an apple -- then the size of a grapefruit! This was when my legs turned as stiff as jelly and I fell backwards. I found myself flat on my back with my arms and legs thrashing uncontrollably. I tried to reason with my alcohol-slaked mind, “What has happened to me?” I thought, “A stroke?-- A heart attack?” I looked up and saw the giant sized Phouzt reach down and retrieve the necklace. He held the stone, now silver, over me and I SAW MY REFLECTION!
Phouzt looked down at me with an evil smile and said, ”Our bargain is fulfilled -It is now time to present you to Miss Kathleen, -- Master Lake.”
Mercifully, the combination of alcohol and horror pushed me into unconsciousness.
With fiery Brimstone and scorched cinders decorating the caverns of Hades, few would chose such as their home, but it suited the Prince of Lies. He sat on his throne of bleached human bones and slammed his trident down with a commanding thud, then with a roar of his deep voice, “BRING ME THAT ERRANT HENCHMAN OF MINE, NOW!” The abominations of the devils court separated allow the form of Phouzt to materialize.
“My minions tell me that you are worthy enough to escape my wrath. To be trapped and imprisoned by an indian quacksalver for over 500 years is - is despicable!”
Phouzt held his hands out and asked, “Please sire, permit me to provide proof. Let us look in on my emancipator.” Phouzt drew a circle on the floor that turned to silvered mercury. The reflective surface changed to an oblique overhead view of three figures, one, an infant howling, and struggling against the restraint straps of its carrier.
The devil looked up from the scene, “I understand that you were to fulfill this mortal’s wish to be happy. He does not appear to be happy, does he not?
“Sire, he may appear to be despondent, but consider this: He now has no responsibilities, not one, and look there, every little thing is being done for him by his caregiver, Miss Kathleen.”
The devil looked again and watched as a woman with auburn hair fussed with the blue juvenile garment of the child. “I require my underlings to honor their word and their bond. How does this satisfy your contract you made with this mortal?”
Phoust slyly smiled, “Why, my dark lord, my former masters wish was to be rich. He is rich. Unfortunately, he is in no position to utilize such wealth and it may be twenty, possibly thirty years before he can do so.”
The devil grunted agreement and asked, “Who is that man with the woman and child?”
Phouzt cleared his throat. “With pardon sire, uh, that is a woman named Joyce, recently returned from Mongolia and Miss Kathleen’s life partner. A very stern and task-driven lady totally devoted to exercise and a healthy lifestyle. A perfect complement to the nurturing and effeminate nature of Miss Kathleen. With Miss Kathleen as sole owner of the ranch, the two females intend to raise horses and -“ Phoust paused to chuckle, “many others like my former master.”
The devil continued to watch, “What is she doing to the child now?”
Phouzt looked and replied, “Why my prince, Miss Kathleen is removing the apparel of my previous commandant and putting him in fresh attire. She does this several times each day and she seems to derive pleasure from this chore.”
The devil and Phouzt continued to watch as Kathleen finished her task and then she handed the child over to Joyce. Joyce pulled out a bottle from a nearby bag and shoved it in the child’s mouth. The infant wriggled violently against her ministrations.
“Why is he reacting so? Is she feeding him poison?”, the devil asked.
“I don’t think so, sire. It could the menu choice of Miss Joyce. Goats milk I believe.”
The devil waved his hand and the scene disappeared. “You do not deserve banishment to the nether regions. However, before I close this matter I have need of you to perform one final task.” The devil motioned Phouzt forward and handed him a rectangular white and green box wrapped in cellophane. “You will, in a future time, give this to Mr. Lake and deliver this message-“, Phouzt recognized the box as a package of Kool cigarettes as the devil continued, “Thanks for the smokes, white man.”