by Sharon Joss
CHAPTER 5
“Well, whoop-de-freakin’-do.” I scowled into the rearview mirror. I lowered each of the car windows, grabbed a fresh dryer sheet out of the pink box sitting on the passenger seat, and inhaled deeply. I don’t know why I bothered.
Suspended. I closed my eyes, and Mike’s face flashed before me. I’d never seen that expression on a friend’s face before. Anger, embarrassment, pity, and hurt; all in one place, and all because of me. I’d make it up to him, somehow. In a few more hours, everything would be back to normal again.
Frickin’ inner demons. I jerked the seatbelt across my chest and snapped the buckle into place.
My cell phone vibrated, and I jumped. I checked the caller ID, and relief flooded through me as I answered.
“Matilda Blackman?”
My lips quivered. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry I missed your call earlier. It’s been one of those days. Are we still on?”
“This is Jackie over at Merle Shine’s Pest Control. I’m calling to confirm your five-thirty appointment for this afternoon. “
I choked back another wave of nausea. “I’ll be there. The stink is killing me. You have no idea--”
“Please be prompt, Miss Blackman. Merle’s made a special exception for you. He needs to be home early for his daughter’s birthday party tonight. You are the last teratosis treatment of the day.”
I glanced furtively around the parking lot to make sure no one could overhear our conversation. “No problem. Thank you so much for squeezing me in. I don’t think I can stand it much longer.”
“Yes, well business has been a bit busier than usual.”
“I had no idea djemon infestations were such a big problem.”
“They aren’t normally. We rarely treat more than few local cases in a year. Most of our teratosis business is tourists in town for the Spirit Festival, but that’s not until next month.”
“You have my word, I will not be late,” I promised, and disconnected. The tension in my shoulders eased. I’m all set.
I scrunched around in the driver’s seat to better examine the new guy. Even with their physical differences, they appeared to originate from the same place. They had the same eyes. They both wore dull brown skin with an ashy bloom to it that chocolate got when it sat on the shelf too long. Where Blix was skin and bones, the fanged toad was a slick blob. I’d named him Blix, after a goblin character in a movie I’d seen once. He even resembled the one in the movie, a little. Sort of a forlorn hairless kitten, with big bat ears, and a face like a gargoyle. Pitifully ugly, but Blix was strange in other ways, too. His eyes glowed in the dark, and that was pretty creepy. I’d started leaving the light on at night.
I’d never seen a real live demon before, but if you didn’t count the stink, these two certainly didn’t live up to expectations. From the beginning, the odor came and went in waves; a noxious blend of licorice with a little after-zing of eau d’ poop. If I kept the windows open and the fan on, I could almost pretend the stench didn’t bother me too much. Yeah right.
Good lord, what if another one showed up? I’d lose my job for real, that’s what.
A nervous tic vexed my right eyelid, and I held my finger over it. I loved my job. I was proud to say I worked for the city. A government job is respectable. I loved my uniform. When I put it on, I felt confident; I liked the feeling of authority it gave me. But more than anything, in spite of the circumstances of my birth, my job made me legitimate. My job made me a person of substance. I couldn’t lose that.
With a shaking hand, I slipped the key into the ignition, and started the car. I sure hoped the exterminator people could handle both these guys.
“You two better hope Merle gives me a discount.”
I drove to my apartment in Shore Haven, a lakeside suburb about three miles from Picston City Hall. As I changed out of my uniform, I remembered a Laundromat located a couple blocks from Merle’s. It would be an easy to do a few loads while I was at my appointment. Clever girl, Mattie.
With Four Starr Pest Abatement shut down for the foreseeable future, here were only two other places in town to go to get rid of demon breath. Tourists preferred the local fortune teller experience of course, but I wanted a professional. Merle Shine had been in the pest control business for more than fifty years. They were a member of the Better Business Bureau and had a strict customer privacy clause right there in the contract. The best part was that they were located in Picston, so I faced less chance of running into anybody I knew.
The neat chignon I always wore to work now resembled a squirrel’s nest, so I brushed it back into a tight ponytail. I piled the laundry into the basket, and headed out to the car. I had almost an hour to kill before my appointment with Merle. This was going to work out just perfect.
I drove with the windows rolled down and the radio turned up, determined to recover from my disastrous morning, singing along with Credence Clearwater Revival. Bad Moon Rising is one of my all-time favorites. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I thought I saw Blix bobbing his head to the beat, but couldn’t be sure.
“Won’t be long now, boys,” I warned them.
The car behind me honked, and I swerved back into my lane, red-faced. Focus Mattie. The trip back to Picston wouldn’t take long. Shore Haven is geographically separated from Picston by Sentinel Hill, which rises some six hundred feet above the lake shoreline. In the green months, my twenty-minute commute past dense woods and parkland was one of the highlights of my day.
I drove past Merle Shine’s Pest Control on Seneca Avenue, about a mile past City Hall. As I cruised by, I checked out the parking lot, which looked pretty full. I still had twenty minutes before my appointment, plenty of time. I zipped past four more blocks to the Spanky Kleen Laundry, situated in a tired strip mall on the seedy edge of an industrial neighborhood. This was not a great part of town. My knees had stiffened up on the drive over and I hobbled inside with my dirty laundry.
I’d never used this place before, and it wasn’t as nice as my usual spot, Tidy Whiteys. I debated leaving my undies unattended, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. I filled the washers, added detergent, and fed my quarters into the slots. I was ready to go meet Merle.
I limped back out to my car, put on my seatbelt, and started up the engine. I released the parking brake and put the car in reverse before checking the rear-view mirror. I’d barely touched the gas pedal when I noticed a third djemon staring at me from the backseat.
I froze, my body clenched into a rigid spasm of revulsion. My foot stomped the pedal to the metal, and Trusty Rusty zoomed backwards across the parking lot. My hands gripped the steering wheel in a white-knuckled vise. A nausea of disgust washed over me, petrifying my foot on the gas. I prayed there was nothing behind me.
With a loud bang, the car collided with something solid and bucked me right out of my seat. For the second time that day, velocity held me airborne. My stomach rolled and my foot slipped off the gas pedal. The car jerked to an abrupt stop beneath me and I slammed back to earth. The engine died without a whimper. The silence was deafening.
