The Devil and Danielle Webster

by Cynthia Cross

  Mr. Lucifer cocked his head and looked at us both knowingly. “Admit it. You two still have a great deal of passion for each other.”

  “Wrong,” I said. “Merely dislike.”

  “Call it what you will,” said the nondescript man, rubbing his hands together as we both signed. “What you still have together has fueled many a marriage for decades. Go to bed, Danielle, my dear. You will dream, vividly. Doug, I’ll send you back to your own bed, but rest assured, you will partake fully in the re-experience from the past.”

  “Wait,” I said. “I want a word with Doug, privately.”

  “Aw,” said the Devil kindly. “You see? I’m right. Just wait and see. I’ll just bet you two will want to continue this affair in the present.”

  “Don’t hold your breath,” Doug said.

  “I’ll give you two minutes, no more,” the Devil continued smoothly, with an approving look my direction.

  “Go away,” I told him, and to my surprise, he readily disappeared.

  “Trust me on this, Doug,” I said, and moved into his arms. “Put your arms around me,” I breathed.

  “Why—“ he started, but I put my mouth next to his ear and quickly whispered.

  “He’s gone, but I don’t trust him. Put your arms around me and listen.”

  “Okay,” Doug said, and followed my instructions.

  “Doug, I made sure he wrote ‘all night’ into the contract for a reason. We never had any full nights together.”

  “We did so!”

  “Don’t yell in my ear. We did not. You were still living with your parents. You NEVER spent the night with me, or you would have gotten in trouble at home.”

  “We did spend the night, a couple of times.”

  “Well, they weren’t very many. I’m guessing they were pretty unsatisfactory.”

  “Well, you guess wrong. I can think of a few good times.”

  “Remember, this is from MY perspective. It had to be a night of passion for ME.”

  “Oh.”

  “Kiss me now. He may be watching. He’s probably plotting a special torment for us if we restart our affair after all these years.”

  “Rubbing his hands in glee,” Doug agreed.

  Our kiss, a quick peck, was even briefer than planned as Doug’s two minutes ran out. “See ya,” I said as he dissolved, presumably back to his night’s sleep in a ranch style home somewhere in a modest Chicago suburb.

  Chapter 3 – A Night of Passion, Take 2

  I stretched out on the motel bed. Once again, the clock read 2 AM. At least I’d get some sleep out of this. After all, you can’t dream without sleep. But first, I texted Jill again. “are you up” “please text or call” I suppose that was dumb, but I really needed to feel connected to someone who was on my side. No reaching her, again.

  Then I texted the same message to Patty. She had sleep issues, too. Maybe I’d get a quicker response from her.

  Sure enough, Patty was still awake. “yah sucks to be awake”

  I called her. She picked up on the first ring.

  “Thank goodness! Patty, I know this sounds ridiculous, but I’m afraid I just sold my soul to the Devil!”

  “Danielle, get a hold of yourself. What are you talking about? Are you calling from home?”

  “No, I’m in Bullhead City—“

  “Where?”

  “It’s in the northwest corner of Arizona.”

  “Why on earth—never mind. How did you sell your soul to the Devil?”

  “Remember Doug Morris?”

  “Doogie? Don’t tell me he’s back in your life.”

  “Well, he is, sort of.”

  “Wait, you sold your soul to get Doogie Morris back in your life?”

  “No, I just wanted to relive one night from way back. I mean, I’m stuck in Bullhead City!” I said appealingly.

  “So let me guess. You said, ‘I wish I could be back with Doug for one night’ and bingo, the Devil appeared and had a contract for you to sign.”

  “How did you know? Has this happened to you?”

  “No, Dannie, but I’ve seen Dr. Faustus, SJCC players put it on last year. You know the one? Where Dr. Faustus wants Helen of Troy?”

  “He goes to hell at the end, doesn’t he?”

  “Yeah, I think so. But she’s so beautiful he seems to think it’s worth it.”

  “Well, Doug Morris isn’t so beautiful that it’s worth going to hell.”

  Patty giggled. “Maybe Doogie will think you’re so beautiful that it’s worth going to hell.”

  “He doesn’t in the least. But he’s signed the contract, too. That darn Daemon Lucifer hoodwinked us both.”

  “You mean Doogie’s already there?”

  “Came and went,” I said, then corrected myself hastily. “Not that! We spent a whole night arguing about how we broke up. Now he’s gone.”

  “Geez, Dannie. This doesn’t sound good at all,” Patty said. I could hear the alarm in her voice. “Get Jill to look over the contract as soon as she can. She does wills, right? So she’d be good with contract stuff, wouldn’t she?”

  “I think so. I just texted her, but I think she’s asleep.”

  “As we all should be,” Patty said. “I have to be at work in a few hours—“

  “Oh, spare me. That’s what Doug keeps saying.”

  “Dannie, if the Devil didn’t deliver what he promised, then it seems clearcut to me. No deal.”

  “That’s what I said, too! But he said the contract says ‘all sales final.’ The only concession he’ll make is letting us have an additional night. So now I have to relive this night until I get what he calls customer satisfaction, which is ‘a night of passion.’”

  “If you and Doogie hate each other now, that could take a long time. Just how long have you been in Bullhead City?”

  “It’s confusing, huh? We had a night together, but I guess we were in a time loop or time stopped or something. So now we have to start the night all over again. Well, it was about two in the morning, so we’re back to that.”

  “How did Doogie get there? Is there an airport in Bullhead City?”

  “Come on, Patty. If the Devil can turn himself into a talking snake, and freeze time, he can certainly get an overweight guy in bad need of a haircut and shave to Bullhead City in the blink of an eye.”

  “Gross! Is that what he’s looking like these days?”

  “Plus he showed up in a teeshirt and boxers. Smelly boxers. Boxers with no buttons in front.” I refrained from describing my own appearance.

  Patty started chuckling again. “I think the Devil has a sense of humor. But I don’t like that he’s getting his laughs at your expense.”

  “I knew you’d understand,” I said in relief.

  “Danielle, do you need me there?”

  I considered. “Maybe.”

  “If you need me, I’ll bet you can get ol’ Diablo to pick me up and drop me off with you.”

  “What would you be able to do?”

  “I dunno, maybe I can position my ass enticingly in the air while you and Doogie escape?”

  I laughed in spite of myself. “Somehow I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.”

  “Well, keep my offer in mind. Are you supposed to be with Doogie right now?”

  “I think I’m supposed to be asleep so I can dream about him.”

  “You don’t want the Devil suing you for breach of contract. You’d better get to bed. You’ll have to tell me all about it in the morning.” She snickered some more. “Maybe you’d better not enjoy this too much.”

  “Oh, I can tell you now, I won’t. I’m not enjoying having him around at all.”

  “For god’s sake, get Jill in on this as soon as you can.”

  “Trust me, I will.”

  Once I put my cell down, I must have dropped off fast, because I was awakened just as quickly. I opened my eyes. Despite the darkness, I could tell immediately that I was not in the motel room. The space felt different, more open, and no
ises were subtly altered, as well. The mattress shook, again, and I detected a change in furniture, as well. I seemed to be on a sofabed, and the figure I could just make out in the dark was—

  “Oh, no,” I groaned, in the present. “I remember that night.”

  “Me too,” Doug said. “It wasn’t bad.”

  “Oh, you’re here for the post-game analysis, too, huh?” I said with resignation. “I thought we would be viewing it separately. I should have known.”

  “This is cool,” Doug said. “It’s like watching it online. And talking to you is like a message board or something.”

  “Are you back in your bed at home?” I asked, curious.

  “I think so. But asleep. You’re asleep, too.”

  “I must be,” I agreed, “and we’re both sharing the same dream.”

  “Pay attention,” Doug said. “I remember this night. Whooo, boy.”

  “Shut up,” I said, but I didn’t expect him to.

  “We went to see Joe and Sheila in Fort Wayne that weekend, remember?”

  “I’ll just bet you never told your parents I was going, too,” I said.

  “Why should I have told them? Did you tell your parents?”

  “I didn’t have to. I wasn’t a loser still living at home halfway through my 20’s.” Doug ignored that, which was fine with me.

  The Danielle in the bed was me, only much younger. I remembered this night, and already had doubts that this would make me a satisfied customer even under the best of circumstances, but whatever. I could feel myself in a young, thin, pre-pregnancy body, and the feeling was exquisite. I had taken this vitality for granted. If only I had known how life changes.

  The figure standing above the sofabed kicked the metal frame again. So that was how he’d awakened me, that night.

  “What a romantic,” I said. “You couldn’t have just gotten into bed and awakened me with caresses and passionate kisses?”

  “Get real, Danielle.”

  “Where’s the popcorn? This is like watching a movie. A movie of a train wreck.”

  “You liked it just fine at the time,” he informed me.

  “God, what a typical man,” I informed him back. “Shut up and watch.”

  Young Danielle stretched and I could feel the litheness of my own body, every part working in unison, no precursors of middle age, no minor aches or pains. It was lovely. Young Danielle waited hopefully. For once, they had the entire night and there was no rush. Visions of leisurely lovemaking full of slow appreciation filled her head. Mine, too, I noted with resignation. So I was going to experience the highs all over again, and also the crushing lows.

  Young Doug removed his boxers and climbed into bed. Oh dear. The nondescript man had been right. I could feel the anticipation surging through me. Young Doug wasted no time. He got right down to business, taking my panties down and pulling my legs apart. With total certainty of his welcome, he slid right in. Danielle of the past gasped in pleasure and so did I. I’d forgotten how firm he was, how smooth his strokes, how completely he filled me—

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t like that,” the current Doug told me in satisfaction, and grunted a few times as renewed pleasure presumably washed over him.

  “Careful,” I said, as I tried to observe the thrusts Young Doug was engaged in delivering to a moaning Young Danielle and maintain my objectivity. I was not going to succumb to grunting and panting in the company of someone I detested. “God,” I said. “Can’t we be a little quieter? We’ll wake up Tina.”

  “She can’t hear this,” Doug said, between pants. “Whoa, look at that. I’m impressive.” Young Doug completed a dozen pushups, sheets rising with him rhythmically. Then his movements slowed and he stifled a drawn-out choking groan. Present-day Doug joined him, vocalizing. “Daaaaaaaaaang. That was good.” His voice suddenly changed, and I could hear the anxiety in it. “Oh, sorry, honey! I must have been having a bad dream.”

  “You mean a wet dream,” I said snidely.

  “Shut up, Danielle,” Doug said, then quickly followed up with, “No, honey, I think I was talking in my sleep. I’m sorry! I’ll be quiet now!”

  I indulged in some audible snickering.

  “Shut up, Danielle,” Doug said irritably.

  I did, but not due to any request of Doug’s. As I participated in this night from two decades back, once again, I could feel Young Danielle’s urgent need for release, as the pleasure faded away and Young Doug rolled over and fell asleep almost instantly. Young Danielle lay wide-awake, keyed up and waiting. “Waiting for nothing,” I said aloud.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, you’re still here? Your alter ego there has crashed for the night,” I said bitterly. “I wish you could feel how I’ve been left by you, with every nerve jangling.”

  “What are you talking about?” Doug asked again. “Wasn’t it good for you?”

  “Well, geez, Doug. You got me warmed up, then left me hanging. And then there’s the whole impersonality of the act. You didn’t spend one second hugging me. You never once kissed me. You could have stroked any part of my body, my arm, my face, it didn’t have to be sexual. And I would have purred like a cat. Women need that sort of thing. It was like you were going out of your way to be cruel.”

  “Well, I probably was,” Doug said. “I wasn’t that into you, I guess.”

  “Go fuck yourself, Doug,” I said, then blushed as I remembered what had happened next. Young Danielle whimpered a bit, and I could feel my own throat close on a huge lump. She was grieving for the absence of tenderness in the lovemaking. She was now wide-awake and unsatisfied. What she did under cover of darkness had largely escaped Young Doug’s notice at the time; he’d been asleep. Doug of the present was another matter.

  Danielle’s motions were surreptitious but it was clear what she was doing as Doug snored next to her. Pleasure flooded me again as I witnessed what had happened decades ago. As she climaxed, she attempted to hold her body still. Despite her efforts, her back arched and the mattress moved enough for Young Doug to awaken. He turned over to face her. “Was it good?” he asked thickly.

  “I remember that,” Doug said.

  “I wish you didn’t,” I returned.

  Young Danielle returned a stifled sob in reply to the question, and Young Doug immediately roused himself and rolled on top of her.

  “You were such a bastard,” I told him.

  “I remember that,” Doug said again. “Just that little bit of crying turned me on like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “I’d believe it, ‘cause you are a sadistic, mean little man.”

  Young Doug was making no effort to take things slowly. He entered her and banged her briskly.

  “You liked it nice and hard,” he said, sounding smug.

  “Yeah, too bad you couldn’t maintain it for more than a minute,” I responded with vindictive satisfaction. Sure enough, Young Doug’s encore was now at an end. Once again, he rolled off and fell asleep facing away from her. There I was, too naïve to realize I deserved better. Young Danielle sniffled, then cried herself softly to sleep.

  “You bastard,” I said again with contempt.

  “I guess I was cold-hearted back then,” Doug offered. It was as close to an apology as he’d ever come.

  We continued to watch the darkened room, to hear the sleeping couple breathe. I could feel the blood of Young Danielle course through her. Despite the cold uncaring sex, it was weirdly marvelous to re-experience the youthful life force I’d had no reason to treasure at the time.

  “George Bernard Shaw said that youth is wasted on the young. He was right. How can you appreciate what you take for granted?” I mused.

  “Oh—you still awake?” asked Doug.

  “Yeah. I think the main feature is over.”

  “Can you feel how young we were?” he asked.

  “You notice it, too?”

  “Almost worth the price of admission, huh?”

  I snorted. “Consider the pric
e, Doug. It’s a pretty steep one, and Daemon Lucifer is a scalper.”

  “True. What can we do?”

  “I don’t know if he’s listening in. Let’s think together really quietly, okay?”

  “You have an idea?”

  “You noticed I made him put in the contract that it had to be for a whole night.”

  “Yeah, I figured that would really limit the nights he could pick from.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “I can remember only a few all-nighters we ever had. And no offense, but they weren’t that great.”

  “I am offended. I can remember a couple nights that were damned outstanding.”

  “Well, I got him to pare those down, remember? He can’t include ones that featured blow jobs.”

  “Oh, yeah. You’re right, that really limits his choices.”

  “I can only think of one other night he can use.”

  “I can’t think of any at all.”

  “So we may have him over a barrel. But I’ve got another idea. Think about the date this took place.”

  “Maybe 1994? Joe and Sheila had only been married a couple years.”

  “Exactly. I think my boss can help us with this.”

  “Don’t underestimate the Devil, Danielle.”

  “My boss is a lawyer,” I said triumphantly. “Jill will get us out of this mess.”

  Had I been talking aloud, or merely thinking? Dawn framed the motel curtains, and I was not alone. The nondescript man sat at the table and beamed at me.

  “Satisfaction guaranteed,” he said complacently.

  “The deal is OFF,” I said flatly. “There was no satisfaction!”

  “You’re starting to provoke me,” Mr. Lucifer said softly.

  “I’m paying through the nose for this so-called satisfaction. Hell, I’ll be paying through every pore of my body. I have rights. You promised to deliver a product and you haven’t delivered. I work for a lawyer, you know,” I informed the nondescript man.

  “Is she representing you?” the Devil asked in an unconcerned way. He stood up in front of a floor lamp, his shadow huge against the ceiling and two walls. I shrank back a little. There was a poof and a pow.

  And Doug tumbled back into the middle of the bed, same teeshirt, same plaid boxers, same look of nausea on his face, same convulsive grip on the bedspread, probably the same trapped food particles between his two front teeth. “What?” he said blankly.