The Demon Rolmar

by A. Griffin

  “What about your address?” Grant’s tone was becoming stern and demanding.

  “I live on Monteller Drive.”

  “What’s the number on your house?”

  Ian just shrugged.

  “How could you not know any of these things? They’re important!”

  “Grant, calm down. You’re upsetting him,” Linda said.

  “We have to take him home. He doesn’t belong here, Linda. He’s not yours.”

  “I know that!” she said at the point of tears.

  “Are you feeling better, Grant?” asked Ian.

  “It’s Mr. Stone. It was nothing—nothing that you should worry about.” Who does this kid think he is? This is my house.

  “OK,” came a nonchalant reply from Ian. “This dinner is really great,” he said, turning his attention to Linda.

  “Thank you, sweetheart.” There was genuine joy in her voice.

  Grant rolled his eyes and continued to eat. The meal progressed in silence—each person was lost in his or her own thoughts. Ian finally broke the silence.

  “Can I be excused?”

  “Sure,” replied Linda.

  “Is it OK if I go watch TV?”

  “Yeah. You can go in the living room if you want,” she said.

  “OK.”

  The tension increased in the room when he left, and once again silence prevailed. There was nothing to be said between them. Neither one of them wanted to bring the subject up, so the only option left was avoidance.

  After dinner Linda joined Ian in the living room, and Grant went to his den. She found Ian sitting on the floor, entranced by the pictures displayed on a slim screen.

  “Watching anything good?” she asked.

  “Just cartoons.”

  “Sounds great.”

  From the den, Grant could hear their voices and the TV. Anger stirred inside him. He was trying to finish some legal reports, and this was certainly not helping to move things along. Grant tried to concentrate for a few minutes longer before deciding to go say something. He walked into the living room and said, “Can you turn that down a bit?” They didn’t hear him or even notice that he had entered the room. This time his voice was louder, “Can you turn that down?” Linda and Ian turned in his direction.

  “What’s up?” Linda said.

  “The volume’s too loud. Can you turn it down?”

  Linda looked slightly annoyed. “Sure, dear.”

  Grant quickly left and went back to his den. Ian followed him with his eyes and was still looking at the door when Linda said, “Is something wrong?”

  “No, not at all. I’m fine. I’m really grateful that you’re letting me stay here. Do you think that I could stay the night?”

  What would be the big deal if he stayed here? I know that I should take him home. Maybe it would be all right if we called the police first thing in the morning, Linda thought. She knew that what she was doing was wrong, but there was a part of her that desperately wanted Ian to stay just a little longer. This would be the closest she would get to actually having a child. “Sure. It’s no trouble,” she said, blushing slightly. “Hey, I forgot. You don’t have anything to wear to bed, do you?”

  “No, but I could wear these clothes.”

  “Nonsense. I can go to the store and get you something tonight.”

  “OK.”

  “Is there anything else that I could get you while I’m at the store?”

  “No, I’m all right,” Ian said.

  Linda left the room, grabbed her keys off the kitchen table, and was out the door. The boy heard an engine starting, and eventually the sound trailed off until only the low din of the TV remained. He turned his attention back to the characters that danced on the screen.

  In his den, Grant was hard at work. He knew that his boss would chew him out if he didn’t have these reports done on time. After putting in some serious crunch time, he managed to finish in two hours. Wow, it’s nine o’clock already. Grant yawned and stretched his limbs. Maybe I’ll get a snack. He spun his chair around and met the eyes of Ian. He jumped a little in his chair and immediately was embarrassed.

  “What do you want?” Grant asked.

  “Umm…just something to drink.”

  “There’s some soda in the fridge. Help yourself.” Grant hoped those words would be enough to make him leave. If not, the action of turning his chair around certainly would.

  “Death is a lonely place.”

  “What? I didn’t hear you.”

  “I like this place,” Ian said.

  “Oh. Well, thank you.”

  The youth smiled as he walked away.

  Linda entered a local department store and went straight to the children’s section. Her eyes wandered over the different styles of pajamas for boys. Which one would he like? Flannel? Stripes? Definitely not polyester, she thought while glancing at a garish-red set. Here’s a nice, simple one. Let’s take a look at the tag. Great, 100 percent cotton…plain green with black trim along the edges. Can’t go wrong with simple. Hmm, I wonder what size he wears. Better get two sizes just in case. Linda picked up a size 8 and 10 and went over to a nearby cash register.

  “Hi, just these two items?” the cashier asked.

  “Yes.”

  “These are very cute. Are they for your son?”

  “Umm…yes.”

  “That’ll be $25.67.”

  Linda handed the ruddy-faced girl two crisp twenties. The teenager handed her some change and her bag.

  “Thank you,” Linda said.

  “Have a great day.”

  Linda headed for the door. Great, it’s raining. Thank goodness I remembered my umbrella. She pulled it out of her oversized, black-leather handbag, opened it, and stepped out into the storm. The rain was much worse than she had judged from inside; it pummeled the pavement, and the wind gusted it under her umbrella. Linda hurried to her cerulean Nissan Sentra. She fumbled with the keys for a moment, found the right one, and then got into her car. She had the engine started and the heat going in a matter of seconds. Finally, some heat. She put the car in drive and headed for home.

  Ian stood looking out the living room window. He traced the paths of the raindrops with his right index finger. Each one has its own unique path, he thought. Just then he heard footsteps. Him again.

  “Have you seen Linda?” Grant asked.

  “She went out.”

  “Did she say how long she would be?”

  “She didn’t.”

  “Oh.” And with that, he left.

  Ian turned back toward the window. Just then, two headlights shone in the driveway. She must be home. Ian watched as a figure— barely discernable except for the outline of her trench coat—swung open the car door, opened an umbrella, and walked slowly to the door. Ian could hear the keys jingle and then a pop of a lock, and she was inside. Linda sighed and placed her trench coat on a nearby coat hook. Ian came to greet her.

  “Hi there. Have you been able to entertain yourself?” Linda asked with a smile.

  “Yes.”

  “I found some pajamas for you.”

  “Great.”

  Linda proceeded to remove them from the bag. I bought two sizes, just to be safe.”

  “Thank you,” he said, taking both sets.

  “What’s this all about?” Grant said as entered the foyer. He eyed the pajamas and sneered slightly.

  “Nothing,” she said, still looking at the child.

  He stood there with his arms crossed for a moment, gave a bemused shake of his head, and then walked away.

  “Why don’t you take your pajamas upstairs and I’ll be up to check on you in a little while,” she suggested.

  “OK.”

  Linda went to the kitchen in hopes of finding a sugary boost. The bottom drawer of the fridge was their repository for soda, and she found a particularly potent variety—Red Rush Cola. That’ll do the trick. Heavy footfalls announced the arrival of her husband. They were a little heavier than usual. When
will he grow up? How childish. Here it comes.

  “I can’t believe you went out in that storm for pajamas. He won’t even be staying here for that long. What are you going to do with them after he leaves?”

  “I hadn’t thought about that. Just trying to enjoy the here and now. Why are you in such a hurry to see him go?”

  “It doesn’t matter. This is wrong. We should take him to the police station.”

  She slammed her can down on the kitchen island. “I know that, but I won’t rush him out. I don’t care what you think. He’s a guest in our home. I don’t want to hear any more about it tonight.” With that, she left the room and headed upstairs to check on Ian. Grant was left slightly stunned. He was too fatigued to really care about recriminations, so he retired to their bedroom.

  Ian was dressed in his pajamas and sitting on the floral comforter that covered the large bed. There was a light knock at the door. “Come in,” he said.

  “Hey. I see that you’re ready for bed,” Linda said.

  “Yup.”

  “I could tuck you in if you like.”

  “All right.”

  Ian scurried under the covers, and Linda pulled them up to his chin.

  “You really are quite adorable,” she said sitting down on the bed.

  “Will you sit there for a while?” Ian asked.

  “Sure, darling.”

  Linda began humming and looked around the room. It’s a shame that no one stays in this room. At least now it’ll get a little use. When her gaze returned to Ian, he was already asleep. Wow, he really must have been tired. Linda quietly rose from her spot on the bed and went to the door. She turned back around to check one more time on Ian. Good, still asleep. Her gaze traveled to the headboard. That’s funny; I don’t remember the relief being of a winter scene. I could have sworn the trees had foliage. I guess I’m just imagining things. Linda flipped the light switch and closed the door.

  CHAPTER 8

  “I don’t hear anything,” John said. He was pacing around the dimly lit storeroom

  “Neither do I.” Zelia crossed her arms and leaned against the metal door that was the only means of exiting the building. “There aren’t any windows in this place. We’ve been hiding in here for at least a half hour. Maybe we should chance a peek outside?” A wave of guilt washed over her. “I wonder if Adam…” she started, but her voice trailed off.

  The silence inside the building loomed, and John began to grow sick when he thought about what had become of the other people. “Everyone must be gone.”

  “I have to see what’s going on,” Zelia said with some exasperation. She turned around, and with the precision of a cat burglar, slowly turned the brass knob so as not to make any noise. She pulled the door open slightly and gave a sigh of relief when it didn’t make a sound. She gave it one more pull, and it creaked loudly. She heard a sharp inhale from John, and her head spun around to meet his shocked eyes. There was a small crack, just large enough for Zelia to peer through. Zelia looked through the crack cautiously at first, but threw the door open when she saw Adam’s prone form on the pavement. The reaction to run outside was automatic, although she couldn’t judge if any danger was still present. Within a few seconds she was at his side, shaking his shoulder and trying to wake him up.

  John wasn’t far behind. “Is he breathing?”

  “Yeah, his chest is moving. I need some water.”

  “There’s a water fountain over there. I’ll go get some,” John said. He remembered seeing some plastic cups in the storeroom and ran there first.

  Adam started to move. “What happened?” he asked. Then his body began to tremble as he remembered what had transpired. “I failed,” his angry voice echoed in the vacant park. “They’re all gone.” His fist hit the pavement in despair.

  “No, you didn’t. We’re still here,” Zelia said.

  “Think of all the people he murdered without a second thought.”

  “I know. But you did the best that you could under the circumstances.”

  “The whole time, I just kept wishing that I could do something to save them,” Adam said. Zelia put her hand on Adam’s shoulder.

  John arrived with a cup of cold water. “Hey buddy, here’s some water. I see you’re awake already. So what now? Should we go to the police?”

  Zelia rubbed her cold hands together. “Is there anything that they could really do? After what he did to those people, I’m sure he’d make short work of the police.”

  “I guess you’re right,” John replied.

  Adam took a sip of the cold liquid. He looked exhausted; the events clearly had taken a toll on him.

  Adam looked at John. “You didn’t believe me when I told you about my first encounter with him.”

  “I never doubted you for a second,” he said. John could still be sarcastic at the worst of times.

  Adam shook his head. “I have a massive headache.”

  John sat down on the ground and said, “One of the people who was taken was a friend from my Biology class. I knew him pretty well. Maybe we should go talk to his family…or we could let the police handle it.”

  “I think they’re going to have their hands pretty full here. This place is a complete wreck,” Adam replied.

  A strong wind blew through the park and scattered some debris. Adam pulled his coat tightly around his body and said, “I think I’m ready to stand up.”

  Zelia and John both helped him to his feet. Adam staggered for a moment before he said, “Let’s go to your friend’s house.”

  The three began walking toward the staff entrance. They made their way to the parking lot. “There’s my car,” Zelia said, pointing to a hybrid SUV. She pressed a button, and the engine started. Everyone got in and shut the doors.

  Adam was pensive and still a little unnerved. “At least if we start moving I won’t feel like such a sitting duck.”

  Zelia turned onto the freeway and replied, “Quack, quack.”

  CHAPTER 9

  The sun glinted through the ivory shades of Ian’s room, waking him from slumber. He rose, stretched, and began to think about what the day might have in store for him. Ian swung his legs over the side of the bed and hopped off. He strolled out of the room and paused at the top of the stairs when he heard voices below.

  “Not another word about it. You’re calling the police today. This has gone on long enough,” Grant said.

  “He hasn’t been here that long. He stays for one day and you’re ready to throw him out,” Linda replied.

  “Damn right I am. This is my house. And he is someone’s child. They’re probably worried.”

  “Keep it down, would you? He may hear you.”

  “I don’t care about what he hears!” he said, his voice booming on the last word.

  “You’re impossible!” she yelled, and ran out the front door and into the morning mist. She went down the street toward the brush that covered a dead-end sign. On the other side of the thick brush was a clearing. Linda often came here to think. It was just a small field, but it gave her a sense of escape.

  Footsteps thundered down the stairs.

  Ian faced Grant. “What did you say to her?” Ian yelled.

  “Nothing that concerns you.” The look in Grant’s eyes was colder than ever.

  Ian grew emboldened by his concern for Linda. “You are cruel and petty in your small way. But you cannot fathom true cruelty,” he said.

  “What does that mean? You’re just a little—”

  Ian ran out the door before Grant could finish his sentence.

  Linda sat on the grass under a large oak with her eyes closed. She tried to think about nothing. However, the sting of Grant’s words wouldn’t drift away. She kept trying to block out the thoughts, but they were too fresh to be squelched. Maybe I should go back. He was just so angry. It’s my fault. What was I thinking when I said Ian could stay? Grant has never liked children. She opened her eyes and saw Ian standing in front of her.

  “You followed me?”


  “Yeah. Mind if I sit down?”

  “Not at all.”

  He seated himself in a shady spot next to her and tried to think of something to say that would help the situation. He really knew nothing of these marital troubles and what appropriate conversation might be. For a long time they simply enjoyed the quietude, and the breeze would occasionally make its own conversation.

  “Why is he so mean?” Ian eventually asked.

  “Oh, he’s just angry,” she said, giving him a smile that hinted at the pain she felt.

  “He doesn’t want me here.”

  “That’s not true,” she tried to cover hopelessly. But they both knew the truth at this point.

  “You aren’t happy with him.”

  “No, you’re right. But let’s keep that our little secret,” she said smiling. Linda noted how the shadows from the tree canopy danced on his face as the breeze blew. His hazel eyes were bright with concern. He really must care about how I feel.

  “Don’t worry. Things will work out,” she said to Ian.

  They sat together in the arbor and pushed the world out for a time that seemed interminable. The solitude and quiet of the place enhanced their senses. Every sound and movement seemed choreographed, as if nature was making its own story for them.

  Eventually Linda said, “There’s no sense in running from the problem. Let’s get started back.” Ian seemed to be ensconced in the world around him and was oblivious to her words. There’s something unique about him. When he looks at something it always seems as if it’s for the first time—like a baby. “Ian?” He turned and looked at her. They both rose from the grass and began walking.

  Ian felt a connection with Linda that seemed to be growing stronger. I don’t know why I feel this way. I don’t really know Linda, but she’s been so nice to me. “Will I be able to stay?” Ian asked.

  “Maybe for just a little while longer. I would like for you to stay, but you must go back to your parents. It was wrong of me to let you stay this long,” she said. They walked by the uniform houses on the block. Some children were playing on the front lawn of a bright-red house that sat two doors down from Linda’s home. Linda waved at the children and then said to Ian, “Why don’t you go play with those kids while I try to smooth things over with Grant.”