Read The Devil's Demeanor Online
Authors: Jerry Hart
“You going to
kill me, big brother?”
“If I have to.
Then I’ll burn you so Dad will never know you were here.”
Ethan tilted
his head back and laughed maniacally. He continued to do so as the playhouse
exploded next to them.
*
*
*
Don woke
feeling extreme heat and nausea. He was lying flat on his back, an inferno to
his left and a bump on his head. For a moment, he couldn’t remember where he
was.
And then it
came rushing back to him—the mall was on fire!
He jumped to
his feet and instantly regretted it. He threw up for a moment and then focused
on the burning playhouse. The fire had spread to the stores next to it. He ran
around the corner to grab a fire extinguisher when he noticed even more shops
had caught fire. The entire east side of the mall was aflame. He ran to the
nearest extinguisher housing and found it empty. Ethan must have hidden it. Don
couldn’t remember if he’d checked the extinguishers tonight during his circuit.
He realized he
couldn’t save the building, but he could save himself. Where was Ethan? Don
hadn’t seen him since waking up. Did he escape? Was he waiting somewhere to
ambush him? Don wasn’t going to wait around and find out. He ran back to the
playhouse; the nearest exit was there.
So was Ethan.
Don stopped
dead in his tracks. “We’ll both die,” he said to his little brother.
“You’re not
leaving alive,” came the reply.
“Why don’t you
kill me yourself, instead of letting nature do it?”
For that, Ethan
had no answer.
Don smiled.
“You can’t, can you? I’m your big brother.”
Ethan slowly
shook his head. Don found that surprisingly unnerving.
“Then why?” Don
asked again. “The fire department will be here any second, and I can easily use
another exit. But first, I want to know why you’re doing this.”
“I’m trying to
save you,” Ethan finally said. Surely Don misheard.
Flashing lights
appeared outside the mall, just behind Ethan. He suddenly darted into the
burning playhouse before Don could move a muscle. Instead of going after him,
Don ran out into the parking lot.
*
*
*
Don was
jobless. The company he’d worked for had trouble placing him at another site
after the incident at the mall. Don had told the authorities he didn’t know how
the fire got started. The police and fire department found the homeless victims
in the playhouse, and the investigation had gone on weeks after the mall burned
down. From what Don could tell, no one had found Ethan’s body among the
victims. Don hadn’t told anyone of his brother’s involvement.
With his break
in work, he was quickly running through his savings. He contemplated—and
dreaded—moving back in with Dad and Yvonne. Craig and Corey hadn’t paid their
portions of the rent in God knew how long.
Don had trouble
sleeping that first week after the fire. Besides worrying about his uncertain
future, he also worried about Ethan. He didn’t see how his brother could have
escaped that inferno, but he knew he would be seeing Ethan again before long.
Would he follow Don back to Dad’s house? The younger Scott boy hadn’t harmed
Don’s roommates during his stealthy break-ins, but Don couldn’t get the sight
of the homeless dead out of his mind.
Ethan had done
all of that, and there was nothing stopping him from going to Dad’s house on
his own. But Don didn’t think he would—there was no reason to.
Suddenly, his
cell phone rang.
He reached over
and retrieved it from the night stand next to his bed.
It was midday and depressingly gloomy. Corey
and Craig were out doing their own things. “Hello?” he answered.
“Jesus Christ,
Don!” Dad yelled through the earpiece. “I just now heard what happened. Are you
all right? Why didn’t you call me?” He was more frantic than Don had heard him
in a good long time.
“I’m fine, Dad.
I got out in plenty of time.”
“How did the
place burn down?”
“Didn’t you
hear? There were homeless people inside, and they had a bunch of candles. They
accidentally burned the mall down.”
There was a
long silence. And then Dad said, “Is that what really happened?”
Don’s heart
accelerated. “What do you mean?”
“Tell me the
truth, Donovan.”
“Dad....” Don
found himself speechless as tears sprang to his eyes. And then the words sprang
forth. “Ethan tried to kill me!”
Another
silence. After what felt like a whole minute, Dad whispered, “You’ve seen your
brother?”
“Yes. And he
tried to
kill
me! He’s crazy, Dad. We have to stop him.”
“It can’t be,”
Dad said. Don could barely hear over his own sobbing.
“Dad?”
“The curse....”
And then the
line went dead.
Don jumped in
his truck moments later and raced onto I-35. If there was no traffic, he could
be at his father’s house in fifteen minutes. He had to get there. Something in
Dad’s voice....
Something was
terribly wrong.
Don knew it.
Twenty minutes
later, he was rushing through Dad’s front door with the key he still had on his
key chain. No one seemed to be home. “Dad?” he called. No reply. “Dad!” he
screamed. Still no reply.
A groan came
from the living room straight ahead. Don ran forward and saw his father lying
facedown just before the black leather couch. Don turned him over gently. “Dad?
What happened?”
Dad seemed
unable to answer. His face was red and bloated. His eyes were streaming tears.
“Are you having
a heart attack?” Don asked. Dad nodded. Don pulled out his cell phone and
called for an ambulance.
Dad pulled him
closer a moment later. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you...all this time.”
“About the
curse?” Don couldn’t believe they were having this conversation now.
Dad nodded
again. “I...saw Ethan.” He pointed to the back porch a few feet away. “He was
just standing there...staring at me...smiling
that
smile.”
No one was on the porch now, but Don
believed him. “You’re going to be okay, Dad. I’ll take care of Ethan. I
promise.”
“Stay away from him,” Dad whispered. “He’s
lost to us, son. Just stay away.”
“Okay, Dad.” Don began to cry. Ethan had
promised to haunt Don for the rest of his life if he survived the fire. He
couldn’t go on knowing his little brother was cowering in the shadows. How
could anyone live like that? Don couldn’t imagine doing so without his father
to protect him. “Dad?” He shook his father but got no response.
Patrick Scott was gone.
*
*
*
The funeral was held a few days later.
Surprisingly, Don did not cry. Nor did he bother looking around for Ethan—he
knew his brother was watching. Don just didn’t care.
Dad had left behind a generous
life-insurance policy for Don. Instead of using that to pay for rent, however,
Don moved back in with Yvonne. Luckily, the house was fully paid for, but
Yvonne got a job in the months following her husband’s death.
Don, however, did not get a job. Instead, he
devoted his time and money to finding Ethan. He had nearly two-hundred grand to
his name, and though he wanted to invest in his future, he knew he had no
future with his brother in the picture.
Over the course of six months, Ethan
periodically made his presence known with subtle and not-so-subtle threats.
Dead animals on the porch, in Don’s truck. Don made sure to clean up these
messes before Yvonne saw them. As far as he could tell, she didn’t notice
anything.
It was only when Don became desperate he
went to a private investigator. It was nearly a year after Dad’s death, and the
attacks had stopped altogether. Don knew this had to be the calm before the
storm, and instead of trying to enjoy the peace while it lasted, he took his
time to find Ethan and put a stop to his attacks once and for all.
The only way to do that would be to kill
Ethan. Don asked himself countless times if he was prepared to do that. Each
time, the answer was the same.
To pass the time, he got a part-time job at
the movie theater down the street. It definitely beat working at that
depressing mall. He didn’t necessarily need the money, either. Not yet, at
least.
The P.I. was having considerable difficulty
locating Ethan. Don wasn’t surprised, considering how his brother had been
living for the past decade. No income, fixed address, or known acquaintances.
So Don continued to wait.
*
*
*
A month after hiring the investigator, Don
got a call while at work. The P.I. said he’d located someone matching Ethan’s
description.
“Where is he?” Don asked.
“Your hometown of Augusta, Georgia.”
Don took a moment to register that
information. He was in Concession on a Friday night, helping fill orders. He
wasn’t supposed to have his cell phone on him. He was standing in front of the
popcorn machine, letting the current batch burn, when a chief of staff walked
up to him.
“Get off your phone, Mr. Scott.”
Don ignored the short man and dumped the
blackened popcorn instinctively. “What makes you think it’s him?” he asked into
the phone. The chief didn’t look at all pleased.
“I asked around, conversed with his old
classmates. Turns out he has a girlfriend, someone he went to school with.”
Don walked away from the chief, into a
supply closet that held only popcorn seeds. “A girlfriend?”
“Does that surprise you?” The P.I. sounded
amused.
“I just never thought of him as the type to
have one.” He took a breath. “Do you have an address?”
The investigator gave it to him.
Don gasped. “That’s in our old
neighborhood.”
“Then you shouldn’t have any trouble finding
it. Pleasure doing business with you.”
Don hung up and sat on one of the bags. He
began to plan his next move.
The next day, he was on I-20, headed to
Georgia. He didn’t want to fly; that would be too quick. He wanted time to
prepare. “Ethan has a girlfriend?” he asked himself over and over. It just
didn’t seem possible. Had Ethan changed since his last attack?
Even so, he had a lot to answer for. All of
those murders....
Thinking like that only fueled Don’s rage
toward his brother. And toward the demon that made Ethan that way. Don wanted
to take revenge upon it. Whether or not it could actually be killed was
unknown. Don did know he was going to try something.
He had nearly a whole week off from work,
and Yvonne wouldn’t miss him. He didn’t even tell her he was going out of town.
They hardly ever saw each other, he in his room and she doing whatever she did.
They never ate dinner together like they used to when Dad was alive, but she
did leave leftovers for him. He was grateful for that.
It was weird, living in what felt like an
empty house. Don hated being so estranged from his stepmom. He figured it was
because he reminded her of Dad, which was ironic. As for Don, he just couldn’t
bring himself to talk to her. He wanted to hate her for all the arguments
they’d had over the years, but he kept forgetting to hold that grudge.
But then he would tell himself it wasn’t
healthy to always hate someone, he should move on.
If he survived this trip, he promised
himself things would change between him and Yvonne. He continued on the
freeway, toward his unknown future.
Don recognized the familiar exit and took
it. Seeing the old sights brought back a flood of memories; he hadn’t been here
in so long. He was surprised to find he was actually happy to be back. He
immediately thought of his childhood friends he’d left behind. Nick and Clark
and Sym and...Monica.
His heart sped up at the thought of her.
What was she up to? Probably married with kids. That thought dragged him down a
bit. He still wanted to see her if he could, before confronting Ethan. Just in
case.
It was evening but not that late. Don drove
to his childhood home. The big tree that once settled in the front yard was
still gone, and the garage looked to have been turned into another room,
perhaps a study or an extension of the living room.
Seeing the old house, the old neighborhood,
made him wish he could go back in time and do things differently. He wished he
could go back and be a kid without worries. He would keep Mom from being
attacked by the demon. That would at least save her and Ethan the torment of
the curse.
There, across the street, was Nick’s house. It
looked drastically different from when he last saw it; the front yard was
teeming with thick bushes, as if no one bothered with the gardening anymore.
There was a chance Nick had moved. Don
didn’t have a phone number for his old friend, so the only way he could find
out for sure was to go up to the front door and knock.
Don kept his truck parked in front of his
old house. He got out and trotted across the street, making sure to stay on the
driveway—the grass was much too thick to walk through.
There were two new-model cars in the
driveway, along with an old white refrigerator. Don remembered the good old
days when he and Nick used that to climb onto the roof. Don hadn’t thought of
that in nearly fifteen years. He smiled as he walked a path to the front porch.
His heart raced as he held his hand near the door. Was he crazy, being here?
What was he going to say to Nick when he saw him? What would he do if another
family lived here?
He knocked.
A tall, shaggy-haired young man answered.
Don recognized him immediately.
Nick was wearing baggy clothes and had a
cell phone to his ear. Rap music played in the background. For a moment, they
just stood there, staring at each other. Finally, Nick recognized Don and
smiled. “Holy shit!” he said, holding the phone away. “Don Scott! What are you
doing here?”
Don shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood and
thought I’d drop by.”
“Come in,” Nick said as he backed away. To
the person on the phone, he said, “Bitch, I’ll call you back.” He hung up.
“Who was that?” Don asked.
“My mom.”
Don laughed before he could stop himself.
“Just kidding. It was my boo.”
Don looked around and saw a big
high-definition TV in the corner along with a large stereo playing the music. A
videogame was paused on the screen. He and Nick sat on the couch, which was
directly in front of the door.
“I didn’t know if you still lived here, but
I decided to take a chance,” said Don.
“I’m not going anywhere any time soon.”
The house even smelled the same: an assorted
mix of potpourri. Don felt like he’d been transported back in time.
“You still live in Texas?” Nick asked,
turning down the music with a remote.
“Yeah. It’s hot over there.”
“How’s your dad and all them?”
Don assumed “them” meant Yvonne and Liz.
“Dad died last year,” he replied quietly. “Everybody else is okay.”
Nick nodded. “Sorry to hear about your dad.
What happened?”
“Heart attack,” he said out loud, and then
added in his head,
brought on by
the sight of my demonically possessed brother.
“My dad had a heart attack too, but it
wasn’t fatal. He and Mom are asleep.” A long silence. “Did you guys ever find
Ethan?”
Don hadn’t prepared for that question.
“That’s actually why I’m here. I was told he lives in my old neighborhood.”
Damn it. Why did he just say that?
“Over in Fairington? Damn. What’s he doing over
there?”
“That’s what I’m here to find out.”
“Wasn’t he kidnapped or something?”
“Sort of.”
“How old is he now?”
“He’ll be twenty-one next month.”
Nick processed all of this. He seemed
genuinely shocked. “Did he escape his kidnappers, or is he living with them?”
“I don’t even know if it’s really him. I’m
too scared to go and check.”
Nick grinned. “So you’re just
procrastinating,” he guessed. “That’s why you’re here.”
“Maybe.”
“Well, you know who else you should be
visiting? Monica Harris.”
“Monica?” The name came out as a squeak. Don
cleared his throat. “Isn’t she married or something?”
“Hell no she ain’t married. She was engaged
for a minute, but she broke it off.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I heard all this from a
friend of hers.”
“You don’t keep in touch with her?” Don
asked with a grin.
“Not really. Too much history. Plus, she
moved to somewhere on Windsor Meadow, by the old elementary school.” He handed
Don a second controller. “She talked about you a lot after you left.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yep. To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised
if she broke off her engagement for you.”
Don’s face burned. “Why would she do that?”
“Maybe you two are soul mates. I don’t
know—chicks are weird.”
“You wouldn’t happen to have her number,
would you?”
Nick picked up his cell and went through his
contacts. Don was almost jealous knowing Nick had her number. It was an
irrational feeling, but it was there.
*
*
*
The two friends spent an hour playing
videogames and reconnecting when, a little after nine, Don said goodbye and
went back to his truck across the street. He then sat there for a few minutes
with his phone in his hands. He had Monica’s number ready to dial, but he just
couldn’t call. He was so nervous. Almost as nervous about this as about
confronting Ethan.
Thinking of the upcoming confrontation was
what prompted him to finally call her.
The phone rang for what felt like an
eternity. Don shook with anticipation. He gripped the steering wheel with his
free hand, ready to hang up, when finally someone answered.
“Hello?” said a lovely, playful voice.
“Uh, hi, Monica. This is, uh, Don Scott.”
There was a long silence. Had she forgotten
him in the ten years since she last saw him? Nick had said she talked about Don
a lot, right?
“Don from mean old Ms. Meecham’s class?” she
asked.
Don considered the response. The two of them
had shared that class their sophomore year, but she’d asked the question as if
she were talking to someone she never really cared for. “Uh, yeah, that’s me.”
“Hmm.” She sounded like she was trying to
remember him. “I seem to recall a Donovan Scott moving to Texas a long time ago
and never calling or writing like he promised,” she teased.
He grinned. “I never promised anything.”
Monica laughed. “Of course I remember you.
I’m glad you called, but how did you get my number?”
“Nick Platt gave it to me. I’m in town for a
little while and....”
“And you thought you and I could hang out?”
she finished for him after he faltered.
“Is that too much to ask?” He tried to sound
sweet and pathetic.
“Not at all. I’m not doing anything now if
you want to come over to my place.”
Monica gave him directions to the house. It
was close to the old barber shop Adrian had taken Don and Ethan to before his
untimely death. There was no barbershop now, though. It had been replaced by a
cell-phone store.
Monica’s neighborhood was old but cozy. He
found her house at the end of the street. He found
her
at the end of her
driveway. He pulled in front of the house and got out slowly. Monica stood
there with her arms crossed. She wasn’t smiling, but she didn’t look unhappy
either. She studied him, making him even more nervous.
“What?” he finally asked.
“So, Nick Platt still has my number.”
“Is that a big deal?”
“For him, yeah. He hates me.”
“No he doesn’t. Why would he? You’re a
lovely girl.”
“He didn’t tell you about the engagement?”
“Yeah...he did.” Don suddenly understood; he
should have seen it earlier. “You two were engaged, weren’t you?”
“He didn’t tell you the whole story,” she
guessed.
“No, he left out an important detail.”
“Yep, that’s just like him. Come on inside.”
The house was one-story, the front door
opening into a dimly lit living room. Monica sat on a couch along the right
wall of the living room. Don sat next to her.
Now that they were in a brighter environment
than outside, he could see she was wearing a pink top and tight blue jeans. She
was smiling now as she looked over at him.
“So,” she said, “what’s been going on with
you?”
Where to start? His life story was like a
horror movie. He didn’t want to talk about it, so he tried to think of a way to
spin it in a more positive light.
He came up with nothing.
The truth it is, then.
“My dad died last year, I work part-time at
a movie theater, and I live with my stepmom.”
Monica sat there, stunned at the flow of
information he’d just given her. Then she said, “I’m sorry about your dad.”
“Thanks.”
“You and your stepmom get along?”
“We manage.” He grinned. “So, you and Nick
got back together after I left?”
Monica rolled her eyes. “Biggest mistake of
my life.”
“Why did you do it, then?” Don couldn’t
contain his curiosity.
She looked at him, and for a moment, he
wasn’t sure she would answer. “Because he reminded me of you.”
“Say what?” Don asked in an exaggerated
tone. They both laughed at his reaction.
“It was pretty obvious you and I liked each
other in high school,” she said.
Don nodded. “I fell in love with you the
moment I first saw you.”
Monica’s eyes went wide. “Love?”
Don blinked. “Wait, you said ‘liked,’ didn’t
you?” His face reddened.
She nodded and said, “Yeah, but I mean
‘loved.’ I was just worried it would scare you off. Most guys hate that word.”
“It doesn’t scare me,” he said, and to prove
it, he leaned forward and kissed her on the lips.
*
*
*
They lay in her bed a few hours later, naked
and sweating. Monica had her head on his shoulder, their hands joined on his
chest. Don couldn’t believe what had just happened. He couldn’t believe he’d
lost his virginity to the girl of his dreams.
“That was...interesting,” he finally said.
“The best sex you ever had?”
“I can honestly say yes.” He laughed at his
own joke. After a second, Monica joined him. She didn’t know she’d taken his
virginity. He would tell her in his wedding vows.
Wedding vows?
Don was shocked at his thoughts. He was
already planning to marry this woman. If he survived his encounter with his
brother, maybe he would propose....
“What are you thinking right now?” Monica
asked him in the dark, silent room.
“That I want to see you again.”
“We were thinking the same thing, then.”
They kissed.
“There’s
something I have to do first,” he added quietly.
*
*
*
Don did not
want to kill his brother, but he knew he had to. He also didn’t want to leave
Monica. She didn’t want him to go, and had even held onto him as he tried to
get dressed. They’d kissed at the end of her driveway for nearly ten minutes.
And then he dragged himself to his truck. Driving away from her house, watching
her in his rearview mirror, had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done
in his life.
And now he
drove on Windsor Meadow Road, up the steep hill, past the large mound of earth
he used to admire as a kid. He was so close now. He tasted bile and his ulcer
flared. He was about to face his brother for the last time. “For the Longest
Time” played on the radio. He hadn’t heard that song in years.
Don turned into
Fairington, the sign for the neighborhood partially built. After all this time,
people were still running into that thing. Don found himself studying the
broken sign for too long, and realized he was stalling. He didn’t want to face
Ethan...but he had to. If Don didn’t, his little brother would haunt him
forever.