My boss is the devil, p.3
My Boss is the Devil, page 3
“Fine by me. I'd rather not be insane, to be perfectly honest with you. Okay, so let's get down to the nitty-gritty here. You said that my friends couldn't see you, right?”
“Right.”
“Well, maybe you can start by explaining to me why that seems to be true.”
“All right, I will, but first I'm going to ask you a question. Do you believe in God?”
“Yes, I believe in some sort of God,” I replied, unable to tell if he was beating around the bush or getting to the point.
“What, no equivocation? No qualification or rationalization?” Lu seemed genuinely surprised.
“No, not really.”
“Fair enough,” Lu continued, “you believe in a god, how about his counterpart?”
“You mean the Devil?” I barked a short laugh.
“So to speak, yes.”
“Well, give me a second to think about this rationally.” I sat down on a bench. “I believe in a god, and there's enough suffering in the world that I'll have to admit that some sort of counterpart probably exists. I'll also say that I've got no proof for either case.”
Lu smiled and then clapped his hands together quietly. “And that, dear boy, is why you can see me. You believe in me. Or at least you believe enough in something that I’ve chosen to reveal myself to you.”
“I'm sorry, what?”
“You believe in me, and I chose you. It hasn't sunk in yet. Give it a minute.” He smiled and started walking away.
I was probably being dense. Maybe it would come to me if I put all the facts together. Sudden appearance. Check. Well-tailored black suit accented with red. Check. Knowing who I was. Check. Fiery eyes and sly, but friendly, demeanor. Check. Asking if I believed in ultimate good and evil. Che… hold that check.
I whispered, almost under my breath, “Lu… cifer.”
Lu stopped walking down the path and turned about as if he heard me. Hell, he probably had heard me. He strode up with a bright smile on his face, looking not enough like the devilish conclusion that I had drawn. He stopped in front of me, put his hand flat to his stomach, took a small bow, and said, “At your service.”
“You. Lucifer.” I was not very intelligent at that moment in time.
“Yes, that's correct. I do like that moniker much better than the others. It has a certain amount of class to it. Much better than Satan, I’m no one’s enemy. That and the kabbalists are using that name again. Beelzebub? Sticks in the throat, no ring at all. Lucifer,” he breathed in and out dramatically. “It just rolls off the tongue like honey liquor, no?”
“Uh,” the densest part of me tried to come up with a reply, “it's a good name.”
“Yes, I thought so. People don't usually get the reference at first when I introduce myself as Lu, but that's what I get for being progressive. No, it doesn't hold the fire it used to, but it helps to blend in at parties.”
“So, you're the Devil.” It was my turn to state the obvious, or the not so obvious in this case.
“I thought we covered that. Maybe it's time to move on?”
“Right. So… wait a second. You said that I could see you because I believe in you. Rob's, like, some big Satanist. That's what they're doing over there, calling you up with some sort of devil mojo.” I was grasping at straws at that point.
“Funny you should mention that,” Lu chuckled dryly, “I can explain it for you if you're interested.”
“My middle name is Interested.” I couldn't turn off the jokes.
“No it's not. It's Michael, which is a slight disappointment for very personal reasons, but that's not important.” He should warn people before trotting out personal information like that. I opened my mouth to interject but he just kept going. “They're doing some sort of modern interpretation of a summoning ritual, meant to appease me and ask for my presence. So boring nowadays, not like the old times. Oh, the virgin sacrifices, the burnt offerings.” Lu sighed wistfully. “Those were the good old days. No, they couldn't see me for two reasons. Number one, I didn't want them to. Number two, they don't believe in much, let alone me. I lied when I said I didn't know your friends, I do know them very well. I may know them better than they know themselves, just like I know you, Nick. Not socially, we've never been introduced, but I know their deepest fears and darkest secrets. I know yours too, Nick. Every. Single. One.”
I swallowed the anxious lump stuck in my throat with a gulp. I must have looked like a panic-stricken deer. Luckily, Lu noticed before I had a heart attack.
“Too much with the creepy? I'm sorry. I'm not here to scare you, just to talk to you.” Lu sat down at another convenient bench and patted the spot beside him. “In fact, I'm here to make you an offer.”
I couldn't remember if there was an old axiom about what to do if the Devil made you an offer. I didn't think there was, but I could have been wrong. In either case, I was at an impasse. What was that old saying? Better the Devil, you know? I didn't know this Devil very well, but I sat down nonetheless. I asked the first thing that came to mind, “Why?”
“I admire your honesty. The first thing so many people do when a powerful man like myself tells them he has an offer for them is to say yes immediately. It makes my job easier, frankly, but less interesting.” Lu paused before continuing. “Your question makes it more difficult, but I've got answers. Why you? Why not? If the stories tell it truly, I'm out to get every last soul on Earth under my sway, but you don't look like a guy who believes everything he reads. If I told you I was going for quantity over quality, where do you think I would start first?”
I thought about it for a minute and then answered without hesitation, “Rob.”
“Bingo!” Lu exclaimed as he snapped his fingers. “But what would that get me? I told you they don't believe in me. They don't believe in anything, not even God. They make nice noises about it, but if I showed up in the middle of that circle, they'd run like rabbits back down into their burrows. Do you know why? It's because they don't expect it to work. They expect their faces to get warm but that's from the breathing. They expect their hands to get cold and that's just because it's December. They convince themselves that they've had a nice séance and then get back to the world they believe in. Brick, mortar, and steel, nothing more. Could I convince them? With a snap of my little fingers, I could do nearly anything I needed to convince them. But what would that get me? They didn't believe in me until I showed them who I was. You, Nick, you believed in me before we even met. I'll wait until the day before judgment itself to convert non-believers like that to my cause because then all I'll have to do is show myself to them. But you, I need a little head start with.”
“I must be missing something.” I recalled something he said earlier. “I believe in you, I believe in a god, so why don't I just ignore you and stay on his side? Or is it her side? I mean, you've met, right?”
“Him, her, makes very little difference, kind of an Everyman that way,” Lu replied, waving his hands. “It doesn't matter. Why not just ignore me? Well, I'm very persuasive. Not to mention persistent. But I'm not going to bore you with threats about unending pain and hellfire, that sort of thing. That would just drive you right to Him. I've got something better. Remember when I said that I knew everyone's fears and secrets? Well, I also want to know your hopes and dreams, your most base and lofty desires. They don't make my name synonymous with temptation for nothing, you know.”
“I don't think I'm going to give up my soul for a nifty gadget, woman, or anything like that if it's what you have in mind.” Living below the poverty line enforced a kind of minimalism that I’d grown accustomed to, and I hoped one day to genuinely fall in love but the idea of selling my soul for a girlfriend didn’t appeal to me in the least.
Lu laughed. It was a nice laugh, like one you would hear in a crowd somewhere and say, “That sounds like a cool guy,” but then I remembered that he was the Devil. “No, definitely not.” Lu chuckled again. “No women or gizmos for you, Nick. I've got something better in mind for you. You see, I know something that you don't even realize yet. Though you will, of course, once I tell you. Let me tell you something special. You desperately, underneath all of your pessimistic bluster and sarcastic wit, want to do good in this world. You hate your job, but you love taking care of people. You’re a bleeding heart trapped in a barista’s apron. Tell me that's not true.”
“It's not true,” I lied. How could I not lie? It was true. But I couldn't tell the Devil that he was right. It just seemed, well, wrong. So I lied, which gave me time to think of a suitably pessimistic response. Damn. Who didn't want to be a good person? What kind of jerk would I have to be if I said that I didn't want to do something good for the world, for society? Everyone I knew had something going on that could use a little bit of help, even me. Amy was going to school, but having a hard time with tuition. Her parents made too much money for her to get good student loans, but they weren't helping her pay for school. My parents were hounded by creditors for bills that they couldn't pay because my dad got laid off and couldn't find another job with the same salary as his old one. People got shot every day for doing nothing but breathing. Children were starving in all corners of the globe. War made for daily suffering for any number of countries.
I lived in a dinky apartment in a questionable neighborhood in New Haven and worked as a coffee cretin. I did want to take care of people, to help them, but how could I help anyone else if I couldn't even help myself? Of course, I wanted to do something important with my life. Everyone wanted that, didn't they? Something that would make people’s lives better, more than dropping a few dollars into homeless people’s cups. What the hell could I do? Nothing, really.
“You're overwhelmed,” Lu said with what appeared to be real concern in his voice, “and who wouldn't be? Tell you what, why don't you meet back up with Rob and company and we'll get together tomorrow night for dinner? Just the two of us.”
“Why not lunch?”
“You've got a full shift tomorrow, and you only get half an hour for lunch.” Lu grinned. “I'm assuming our conversation will take longer than that. You've got a lot to think about; I'm more than happy to give you some time to rally your thoughts and continue tomorrow. I'll pick you up at seven? Great. Nice to meet you, Nick. You're good people. Have a great day at work tomorrow, the little moments matter a lot to people.” He shook my hand and walked off toward the main gate of the cemetery.
“Hey, Nick!” I heard Rob's voice calling me from where I had left them. Lu and I had made a nearly full circle of the cemetery but hadn’t gotten back to my original spot. He was whispering loudly, trying to find me.
“Coming!” I replied in my own loud whisper and went back to where the circle had been. I say ‘had been’ because everything was already broken down into the few bags that they had brought with them in the first place. They looked satisfied, and I followed them back to the van with a sheepish look on my face.
“It's okay, Nick. This kind of thing isn't for everyone,” Amy said to me as we were getting into the van. She must have thought I felt bad about interrupting them and then going off on my own. I just smiled back and didn't say anything else until we got back to Rob's. I didn't stick around. It was almost three o'clock in the morning, and I still needed to get up for work.
Chapter 4
The alarm clock didn’t have a chance to make more than two beeps before I turned it off. I didn't sleep. Would you have slept? I doubt it.
I got up and showered, then wrapped myself in a towel and looked in the mirror. Despite my bloodshot eyes, I wondered if I was seeing myself clearly for the first time in a while. My face was thin without being gaunt, covered with a day and a half of scruff. My shoulders were already slumped, and when I realized that I rolled them backward, getting a satisfying pop from my mid spine. How long had it been since I stood up straight on purpose? I rubbed my hand over my rough cheeks, sighed, and made the conscious choice to shave. It was early enough, so I actually ironed a shirt for once and found a decent pair of slacks before I dressed and left the apartment. I was walking into the coffee shop twenty minutes before Mark even showed up. I had gotten the store ready to open, made myself a triple espresso, drank that, made myself a double latte for sipping, and had two pots of coffee brewing before he walked through the door.
“Mrognan.” I tried to say “Morning” but the word mashed itself together as it tried to leave my mouth. I decided that my first attempt was an absolute failure, and I should try again. “Morning, Mark.”
“Uh. Morning, Nick. You're early. Um. Good to see you're trying to improve your work ethic.” Mark looked me in the eyes once, saw nothing good, picked the newspaper up from the counter, and went into his office. I had already read it front to back. Twice.
I had, long ago, broken my caffeine-ometer to the point where enough of it will keep me awake but no amount of it will give me the usual lift that the average person looked for. I was able to keep myself upright that shift, but I was only partially conscious. Customers came and went, the coffee flowed like brown rivers, and the conversation I had the night before with a snappily dressed man wearing a red tie ran through my head like a train wreck. I just couldn't look away, I couldn't think about anything else. I was so nonchalant last night when it was all happening, but my nerves were jangling messes now. So my body was on autopilot, serving drinks and making change, but slowly I started noticing the little moments that Lu had talked about. Maybe it was the way a customer smiled gratefully when I handed them a freshly brewed coffee, just the way they liked it. There were the regulars that I joked with, teasing them about their drink choices for the day. The way a patron’s eyes lit up if I complimented them on their outfits or accent pieces, a nice tie, or a piece of jewelry. The angry people would always be there, and they peppered my morning, but their tiny tirades fell away as I tried to be present despite being dead on my feet. For once, I was feeling pretty good about myself.
I kept this up until my lunch break, then fell asleep in the back stock room for a full thirty minutes— I woke up to Mark standing over me as I was slumped back in a rolling chair. He shook his head. “You can’t sleep on the job, Nick.”
“It’s my lunch break, I’ve been kicking ass all morning, Mark,” I shot back.
His face darkened, and I could see conflicting emotions warring behind his eyes. “You can’t sleep in the shop. It would look bad if a customer saw you.”
I looked around at the back room, incredulous. “You mean customers that aren’t allowed and never come back here?”
“You need to care about our image,” Mark replied.
“I pressed this shirt today, Mark.” I couldn’t keep the sharp tone out of my voice.
“Just sleep somewhere else next time, got it?” he said, walking back to his office.
I sighed heavily. Apparently, I couldn’t even catch a break on my best days. Four more blurry hours and fifteen shots of espresso later I was about to tag out (Declan arrived for the evening shift) when Lu walked in the door. He waited in the short line and gave me an approving look when he reached the front. I looked over at Declan, a little stupidly, but he motioned back to my customer. Alright, everyone else could see him this time. I had hoped that I was dreaming the night before, or having a psychotic break, but I guessed not.
“What can I get you?” I asked, in my best customer service voice.
“I’ll have a doppio and a flat white to go,” he said, cheerfully. It wasn’t a bad order to go out on, just some pulled shots and steamed milk. Flat whites were one of my favorite drinks, so I made that my last brew of the day. He paid in cash and dropped a twenty into the can for Declan’s sister, for which Declan gave him a fist bump. I handed him the takeout cups when they were ready, and he walked outside. I didn’t see where he went, but I was too busy putting away my aprons and getting ready to leave to notice. I walked outside and someone cleared their throat loudly before I got more than two steps out the door. My head swiveled and there was Lu, leaning casually against the wall of the shop sipping at his espresso. He waggled the flat white at me as he moved it in my direction.
“For me?” I asked.
“Don’t want you falling asleep during dessert,” Lu said, grinning. “I realize I didn't tell you where we were going to dinner, so you didn't know what to wear. But it looks like you’re already in good shape.”
“Thanks,” I replied with a genuine smile. Mark had noticed but not commented on my look of the day, so it was nice to get a compliment. Despite popular opinion, I clean up fairly well. I didn't own a suit. I didn't need one to serve coffee, and I didn't expect any high-powered job interviews any time in the near future. I didn't qualify for any of those jobs. Remember me being in one of those hard to escape situations? Yeah.
He walked me over to the curb and gestured toward a 1967 Impala, all black, parked there. When I say all black, I mean all black. Black rims, grill, accents, tinted windows, the kind of car you wonder how it’s street legal. “Hop in,” he said, peeling out of the parking space before I had even put my seatbelt on.
“Nothing like a classic car,” Lu said on the way to the restaurant, “especially this one. A muscle car like this just screams for attention.”
“Yeah, I can imagine you get a lot of that driving this around.”
“Well, this isn't my only car, it's just my favorite. It's impressive in a particular way, without being too pretentious.” He smiled smugly. “What do you drive?”
I cocked an eyebrow. “You mean you don't know?”
“Oh, I know. I just wanted to hear you say it aloud.”
“Really?” I sighed. “I have a 1987 Dodge Shadow. Are you happy now?”
Lu chuckled. The Devil made fun of my car, how messed up was that? “Well, if you decide to take me up on my offer, I'd recommend you change that fact as soon as reasonably possible.”
“Hey, it's not that bad of a car.” I felt the need to defend my car's honor. “At least it's the turbo.”
