The Poison Eaters and Other Stories (4 page)

Doug shook his head. “They're waiting for you before they put him down. They wanted to give ?you a chance to say goodbye."

She wanted to throw up or scream or ?cry, but when she spoke, her voice sounded ?so calm that it unnerved her. “Why? Isn't there ?anything they can do?"

"Listen, the doctor said they could operate, but ?it's a couple thousand dollars and you know we can't ? afford it.” Doug's voice was soft, like he was sorry, ?but she wanted to hit him anyway.

Nikki looked across the lot, but the truck wasn't ?in front of Trevor's trailer and his windows were dark. ?"We could make Trevor pay."

Doug sighed. “Not going to happen."

Now she felt tears well in her eyes, but she ?blinked them back. She wouldn't grieve over Boo. ?She'd save him. “I'm not going anywhere with you."

"You have to, Nikki. Mom's waiting for you."

"Call her. Tell her I'll be there in an hour. I'm ?taking the bus.” Nikki grabbed the sleeve of ?Doug's jacket, gripping it as hard as she could. ?"She better not do anything to Boo until I get ?there.” Tears slid down her cheek. She ignored ?them, concentrating on looking as fierce as ?possible. “You better not, either."

"Calm down. I'm not going to—” Doug said, but she was already walking away.

Nikki got on the next bus that stopped and scanned the aisles for the old pervert. A woman with two bags of groceries cradled on her lap looked up at Nikki, then abruptly turned away. A man stretched out on the long back seat shifted in his sleep, his fingers curled tightly around a bottle of beer. Three men in green coveralls conversed softly. There was no one else.

Nikki slid into her seat, wrapping her arms around her body as though she could hold in her sobs with sheer pressure. She had no idea what to do. Looking for a weird old guy who could grant wishes was pathetic. It was sad and stupid.

If there was some way to get the money, things might be different. She thought of all the stuff in the trailer that could be sold, but it didn't add up to a thousand dollars. Even sticking her hand into the till at The Sweet Tooth was unlikely to net more than a few hundred.

Outside the window, the strip malls and motels slid together in her tear-blurred vision. Nikki thought of the day she'd found Boo by the side of the road, dehydrated and bloody. With all those bite marks, she figured his owners had been fighting him against other dogs, but when he saw her he bounded up as dumb and sweet and trusting as if he'd been pampered since he was a puppy. If he died, nothing would ever be fair again.

The bus stopped in front of a churchyard, the doors opened, and the old guy got on. He wore a suit of shiny sharkskin and carried a cane with a silver greyhound instead of a knob. He still stank of rotten eggs, though. Worse than ever.

Nikki sat up straight, wiping her face with her sleeve. “Hey."

He looked over at her as though he didn't know her. “Excuse me?"

"I've been looking for you. I need your help."

Sitting down in the seat across the aisle, he unbuttoned the bottom button on his jacket. “That's magic to my ears."

"My dog.” Nikki sank her fingernails into the flesh of her palm to keep herself calm. “Someone hit my dog and he's going to die?.?.?."

His face broke into a wrinkled grin. “And you want him to live. Like I've never heard that one before."

He was making fun of her, but she forced a smile. “So you'll do it."

He shook his head. “Nope."

"What do you mean? Why not?"

A long sigh escaped his lips, like he was already tired of the conversation. “Let's just say that it's not in my nature."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

He shifted the cane in his lap and she noticed that what she had thought of as a greyhound appeared to have three silver heads. He scowled at her, like a teacher when you missed an obvious answer and he knew you hadn't done the reading. “You have to give me something to get something."

"I've got forty bucks,” she said, biting her lip. “I don't want to do any sex stuff."

"I am not entirely without sympathy.” He shrugged his thin shoulders. “How about this—I will wager my services against something of yours. If you can beat me at any contest of your choosing, your dog will be well and you'll owe me nothing."

"Really? Any contest?” she asked.

He held out his hand. “Shake on it and we've got a deal."

His skin was warm and dry in her grip.

"So, what it going to be?” he asked. “You play the fiddle? Or maybe you'd like to try your hand at jump rope?"

She took a long look at him. He was slender and his clothes hung on him a bit, as though he'd been bigger when he'd bought them. He didn't look like a big eater. “An eating contest,” she said. “I'm wagering that I can eat more than you can."

He laughed so hard she thought for a moment he was having a seizure. “That's a new one. Fine. I'm all appetite."

His reaction made her nervous. “Wait—” she said. “You never told me what you wanted if I lost."

"Just a little thing. You won't miss it.” He indicated the door of the bus with his cane. “Next stop is yours. I'll be by tomorrow. Don't worry about your dog for tonight."

She stood. “First tell me what I'm going to lose."

"You'll overreact,” he said, shaking his head.

"I won't,” Nikki said, but she wasn't sure what she would do. What could he want? She'd said “no sex,” but he hadn't made any promises.

The old guy held out his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Your soul."

"What? Why would you want that?"

” I'm a collector. I have to have the whole set—complete. All souls. They're going to look
spectacular
all lined up. There was a time when I was close, but then there were all these special releases and I got behind. And forget about having them mint-in-box. I have to settle for what I can get these days."

"You're joking."

"Maybe.” He looked out the window, as if considering all those missing souls. “Don't worry. It's like an appendix. You won't even miss it."

Nikki walked home from the bus stop, her stomach churned as she thought over the bargain she'd made. Her soul. The devil. She had just made a bargain with the devil. Who else wanted to buy souls?

She stomped into the trailer to see her mom on the couch, eating a piece of frozen pizza. Doug sat next to her, watching a car being rebuilt on television. Both of them looked tired.

"Oh, honey,” her mother said. “I'm so sorry."

Nikki sat down on the shag rug. “You didn't kill Boo, did you?"

"The vet said that we could wait until tomorrow and see how he's doing, but he wasn't very encouraging.” Long fingers stroked Nikki's hair, but she refused to be soothed. “You have to think what would be best for the poor dog. You don't want him to suffer."

Nikki jumped up and stalked over to the kitchen. “I don't want him to die!"

"Go talk to your sister,” their mother said. Doug pushed himself up off the couch.

"Show me how to train for an eating contest,” Nikki told him, when he tried to speak. “Show me right now."

He shook his head. “You're seriously losing it."

"Yeah,” she said. “But I need to win."

The next morning, after her mother left for work, Nikki called herself out sick and started straightening up the place. After all, the devil was the most famous guest she'd ever had. She'd heard of him, and, what was more, she was pretty sure he knew a lot of people she'd be impressed by.

He knocked on the door of the trailer around noon. Today, he wore a red double-breasted suit with a black shirt and tie. He carried a gnarled cane in a glossy brown, like polished walnut.

Seeing her looking at it, he smiled. “Bull penis. Not too many of these."

"You dress like a pimp,” Nikki said before she thought better of it.

His smile just broadened.

” So are you
a
devil or
the
devil?” Nikki held the screen door open for him.

"I'm a devil to some.” He winked as he walked past her. “But I'm the devil to you."

She shuddered. Suddenly, the idea of him being supernatural seemed entirely too real. “My brother's in the back waiting for us."

Nikki had set up on the picnic table in the common area of the trailer park. She walked onto the hot concrete and the devil followed her. Doug looked up from where he carefully counted out portions of sour gummy frogs onto paper plates. He looked like a giant, holding each tiny candy between two thick fingers.

Nikki brushed an earwig and some sour-cherry splatter off a bench and sat down. “Doug's going to explain the rules."

The devil sat down across from her and leaned his cane against the table. “Good. I'm starving."

Doug stood up, wiping sweaty palms on his jeans. “This is what we're going to do. We have a bag of one hundred and sixty-six sour gummy frogs. That's all we could get. I divided them into sixteen plates of ten and two plates of three, so you each have a maximum of eighty-three frogs. If you both eat the same number of frogs, whoever finishes their frogs first wins. If you have a . . . er? . . . reversal of fortune, then you lose, period."

"He means if you puke,” Nikki said.

Doug gave her a stern look but didn't say anything.

"We need not be limited by your supply,” said the devil. A huge tarnished silver platter appeared on the table. It scuttled over to Nikki on chicken feet and she saw that it was heaped with sugar-studded frogs.

The candy on the paper plates looked dull in comparison with what glimmered on the table. Nikki picked up an orange-and-black-colored candy poison-dart frog and put it regretfully down. It just seemed dumb to let the devil supply food. “You have to use ours."

The devil shrugged. With a wave of his hand, the dish of frogs disappeared, leaving nothing behind but a burnt-sugar smell. “Very well."

Doug put a plastic pitcher of water and two glasses between them. “Okay,” he said, lifting up a stopwatch. “Go!"

Nikki started eating. The salty sweet flavor flooded her mouth as she crammed in candy.

Across the table, the devil lifted up his first paper plate, rolling it up and using the tube to pour frogs into a mouth that seemed to expand. His jaw unhinged like a snake. He picked up a second plate.

Nikki swallowed frog after frog, sugar scraping her throat, racing to catch up.

Doug slid a new pile in front of Nikki and she started eating. She was in the zone. One frog, then another, then a sip of water. The cloying sweetness scraped her throat raw, but she kept eating.

The devil poured a third plate of candy down his throat, then a fourth. At the seventh plate, the devil paused with a groan. He untucked his shirt and undid the button on his dress pants to pat his engorged belly. He looked full.

Nikki stuffed candy in her mouth, suddenly filled with hope.

The devil chuckled and unsheathed a knife from the top of his cane.

"What are you doing?” Doug shouted.

"Just making room,” the devil said. Pressing the blade to his belly, he slit a line in his stomach. Dozens upon dozens of gooey half-chewed frogs tumbled into the dirt.

Nikki stared at him, paralyzed with dread. Her fingers still held a frog, but she didn't bring it to her lips. She had no hope of winning.

Doug looked away from the mess of partially digested candy. “That's cheating!"

The devil tipped up the seventh plate into his widening mouth and swallowed ten frogs at once. “Nothing in the rules against it."

Nikki wondered what it would be like have no soul. Would she barely miss it? Could she still dream? Without one, would she have no more guilt or fear or fun? Maybe without a soul she wouldn't even care that Boo was dead.

The devil cheated. If she wanted to win, she had to cheat, too.

On her sixth plate, Nikki started sweating, but she knew she could finish. She just couldn't finish before he did.

She had to beat him in quantity. She had to eat more sour gummy frogs than he did.

"I feel sick,” Nikki said.

” Don't
you know.
” Doug shook his head vigorously. “Fight it."

Nikki bent over, holding her stomach. While hidden by the table, she picked up one of the slimy, chewed up frogs that had been in the devil's stomach and popped it in her mouth. The frog tasted like sweetness and dirt and something rotten.

The nausea was real this time. She choked and forced herself to swallow around the sour taste of her own gorge.

Sitting up, she saw that the devil had finished all his frogs. She still had two more plates to go.

"I win,” the devil said. “No need to keep eating."

Doug sunk fingers into his hair and tugged. “He's right."

"No way.” Nikki gulped down another mouthful of candy. “I'm finishing my plates."

She ate and ate, ignoring how the rubbery frogs stuck in her throat. She kept eating. Swallowed the last sour-gummy frog, she stood up. “Are you finished?"

"I've been finished for ages,” said the devil.

” Then
I
win."

The devil yawned. “Impossible."

"I ate one more frog than you did,” she said. “So I win."

He pointed his cane at Doug. “If you cheated and gave her another frog, we'll be doing this contest over and you'll be joining us."

Doug shook his head. “It took me an hour to count out those frogs. They were exactly even."

"I ate one of the frogs from your gut,” Nikki said. “I picked it up off the ground and I ate it."

"That's disgusting!” Doug said.

"Five-second rule,” Nikki said. “If it's in the devil for less than five seconds, it's still good."

” That's
cheating,
” said the devil. He sounded half-admiring and half-appalled, reminding her of her boss's son at The Sweet Tooth.

She shook her head. “Nothing in the rules against it."

The devil scowled for a moment, then bowed shallowly. “Well done, Nicole. Count on seeing me again soon.” With those words, he ambled toward the bus station. He paused in front of Trevor's trailer, pulled out a handful of envelopes from the mailbox, and kept going.

Nikki's mother's car pulled into the lot, Boo's head visible in the passenger-side window. His tongue lolled despite the absurd cone-shaped collar around his neck.