when phaedrus lost the ocean

by jamelah

Posted to Stories on 2002-10-08 18:55:00

Parent message is 298616
3:00 p.m., Hell

I sat behind my desk with the computer turned off, inspecting my hair in the reflection on the monitor. “Amelia!” I yelled at my secretary.

When she appeared in my office doorway, she looked stressed. “Yes, Satan?”

“You looked stressed, what’s the problem?”

Amelia sighed. “Nothing sir. Your hair looks fine sir. And no, sir, you are not showing any signs of male-pattern baldness.”

“Uh, thanks, Amelia.”

“You’re welcome, sir.” She turned and started walking from my office.

“Hang on a second, Amelia.”

She stopped midstep. “Yes sir?”

“Don’t I have something to do today…… or…. something?”

She pulled a small calendar from her pocket. “Well, you have a meeting with the Millers at 4:00. They’ve reached a decision.”

“And?”

“I don’t know. Mrs. Miller wouldn’t say any more over the phone. I suppose you’ll find out in an hour, sir.”

“Thank you, Amelia.”

After listlessly staring at a spot on my wall for so long that my eyes started watering, I yelled at Amelia again.

“Yes, sir?”

I bared my teeth and pointed at them. She approached my desk. “No, you don’t have anything stuck in your teeth.”

I felt around with my tongue. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What time is it, Amelia?”

She gave a pointed look to the watch gleaming on my wrist. “It’s 3:05, sir.”

“Well, damnation and hellfire. The Millers aren’t coming until four, right?”

“No, sir.”

“Uh, okay. I’m bored.”

“I can tell, sir.”

“I think I’m going to go for a walk, or something, okay?”

“Fine with me, sir. Don’t forget to be back in time for the meeting.”

“Yeah, okay.” I wandered out of my office and over to the elevators. I reached the lobby and thought about checking in on a round of torture that should’ve been going on right about then, when my phone rang. “Yes?”

“You’re needed in Wisconsin, sir,” Amelia said.

“What the fuck’s in Wisconsin?” I grumbled, turning back toward the elevators.

3:00 p.m., Wisconsin

“And then Captain Cane stood on the beach, crying his eyes out because it had been so long since he’d seen land.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam looked at Jimmy, who had pulled a cape and a plastic sword out of his toybox, and was proceeding to act out a pirate story. Jimmy had asked Sam if he wanted to be Captain Cane’s first mate, but Sam said no because he thought Jimmy was kind of weird, and only came over once a week because Jimmy was his cousin and his mother made him do it.

Jimmy looked at Sam in disgust. “It’s the story of Captain Cane, and he’s a very famous pirate.”

Sam yawned. “Yeah, sure. Can‘t we just watch T.V. or something?”

Jimmy stared openmouthed at Sam. “You know I can’t watch T.V. You know what it’ll do to me.”

Sam had heard the stories about Jimmy and his weird allergies that were so bad, Jimmy couldn’t even leave his house without fear of having some reaction which would cause his head to explode, or something. Television was among Jimmy’s many allergies, and because of it, he spent all of his free time making up stories to entertain himself. Jimmy’s mom said this had made him very creative. Sam thought it had just made him weird.

“Go ahead, Jimmy.”

Jimmy resumed his story. “Okay. So then Captain Cane kneels down on the beach and starts kissing the sand.” Jimmy flung himself on the floor and began kissing the carpet.

Sam had had enough. “Okay, Jimmy. I’m going home.”

“But Sam! Wait! Captain Cane is going to find a mysterious treasure that hasn’t been opened for, like, five thousand years! It’s going to be cool.”

Sam continued on his way to the back door. “Sure, Jimmy. I’ll see you next week, okay?”

Jimmy shrugged. “Yeah, okay, Sam.”

As soon as Jimmy heard the back door close behind Sam, he threw his plastic sword across the room in frustration. He flopped himself down on the bed and mumbled, “I’d sell my soul to the devil if I could just be cool.”

I tapped Jimmy on the shoulder. “You rang?”

Jimmy scrambled to sit upright. He looked at me wide-eyed. I could tell he couldn’t decide whether to be terrified or curious. “Who are you?”

I smiled and extended a hand. “I’m the devil, Jimmy.”

Jimmy looked at my hand and said, “Oh, okay.” He shook my hand, then sneezed. “What’s your suit made out of?”

“Wool.”

“I’m allergic to wool.”

I stood up. “Sorry about that. If I go over there, will you be okay?”

Jimmy shrugged. “Maybe. I guess so.”

I moved across the room and perched on the toybox. “Okay, Jimmy. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you said you’d sell your soul to the devil if you could be cool. So here I am. Checking to see how serious you are.”

“Oh.” Jimmy looked confused. “Are you sure you’re the devil?”

“Why? Because I’m not red and I don’t have horns?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Well, Jimmy, what if I had shown up in your room looking like that?”

“I’d scream.”

“Exactly. See, I’m a businessman. So I look like a businessman.”

“Oh.” I could tell he still didn’t believe me. “If you’re the devil, do something neat.”

I inwardly cursed, but then I told myself that this was an eight year old, how hard could it be? Just make the kid happy, and everything would be okay. I looked around Jimmy’s room for something I could use in a stupid trick. I spotted a goldfish swimming around in a bowl on the dresser. “See your goldfish, Jimmy?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” I turned the fish into a frog, then mentally congratulated myself. “You,” I told myself, “are so fucking cool.” To Jimmy I said, “How was that?”

Jimmy shrugged. “I’m allergic to frogs.”

“Right.” I turned it back into a fish. “There. You believe me now?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess so.”

“Okay, then. Let me tell you a little bit about what selling your soul to me entails.”

“Uh, en-whats?”

“Means.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Right, then. See, I can give you anything you want. Anything in the whole wide world. But in return, you have to give me your soul, and when you die, you have to go to Hell forever and ever.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it, Jimmy.”

“Maybe I should ask my mom.”

“Oh please, go ahead.”

Jimmy climbed off of his bed, opened the door to his room and yelled, “Mom! The devil is here! He wants to talk to you.”

A pleasant-looking woman entered the room, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “What are you talking about, Jimmy?”

Jimmy pointed at me. I stood, plastered a smile on my face, and approached her. “Hi. I’m Satan. It’s a real pleasure to meet you. Your son is a very exceptional boy.”

She smiled nervously. “I don’t think I understand.”

“Please,” I gestured at the bed. “Have a seat.”

Mother and son sat down, and I pulled my phone from my pocket and punched in some numbers. “We’re ready for the presentation. … What do you mean? …. What? … Where are you? ….. Ah, fuck,” I looked at Jimmy’s mother apologetically. “Get over here…. What?…. I can’t hear you…. Well, why the hell are you letting him drive? ….Yeah, you only think you’re sorry now…. What? No…. No…. NO!… Well, pull over…. No, you drive…. I don’t care what he says…. Oh, for the love of all that’s unholy, he’s an idiot…. Put him on the phone….Yes…..Do it.”

I looked at Jimmy and his mother, who were staring at me strangely. “I’m really sorry about this. It’s hell trying to get competent help these days.”

“Boss?” I heard someone shout into the phone.

“Excuse me,” I told Jimmy and his mother, then went back to my conversation. “What do you think you’re doing?…. What?….. Frigate through a maelstrom of traffic?….. I’m not even going to ask you what you think you’re talking about, you stupid bastard…… Are you going to be able to get here?….. Yes or no, simple question….. What?…… Oh, screw it, then……. No, I can handle it….. I can handle it….. Who do you think you’re talking to, here?….. Now, that was just mean….. You’re so in trouble when I see you again….. No, bite me….. Whatever, fuckhead….. Bye.”

Jimmy and his mother were looking at me in horror. I shrugged. “Minions. What can you do?”

“Well,” Jimmy’s mother started, “what exactly are you here for?”

“Your son would like to sell his soul to me.”

“What? But, Jimmy–”

“Mom, just listen to him, okay?”

“Thank you Jimmy. Now, excuse me. What’s your name?” I asked Jimmy’s mother.

“Claudia.”

“Ah,” I smiled. “Claudia. I once knew a woman named Claudia…” I trailed off, remembering. Then I caught a glimpse of Jimmy. “But that’s not really a story to tell in front of small children. Anyway, Claudia… Jimmy… I had a really nice presentation all prepared for you with slides and charts and graphs, but my helpers were having a hard time getting here. So let’s just get right down to business, shall we?”

Claudia and Jimmy nodded.

“Okay. See, Claudia, your son Jimmy here said he’d sell his soul to me if he could be cool. And I was telling him that I can definitely make him cool. Seems like a pretty fair deal to me. I’ve got a contract in my briefcase.”

“Wait a second,” Claudia started. “You’re going to make him cool? What does that mean?”

“Well, it means that first of all, Jimmy’s allergy problems will be a thing of the past. He’ll be able to go to school with other kids, and he won’t be freaking out the other children with weird stories he made up because he can’t watch television.”

“But–”

I held up a hand. “Let me finish. All the kids will like him. All the girls will like you, Jimmy.” I winked at him.

“Girls are gross.”

“You won’t think that when you’re older.” I reached into my briefcase and flipped through some papers. “Or maybe you will. Anyway, whatever you want, Jimmy. I‘m here to make your dreams come true, kiddo.”

“You mean I can be rich?”

I scribbled a note down. “Rich? Sure.”

“He can get into a good college?” Claudia hesitantly asked.

“College? No problem.”

“Will I finally be able to eat Brussels sprouts?” Jimmy asked, a gleam of hope in his eyes.

“Uh, you want to eat Brussels sprouts?”

“Yeah. Duh.

“Oh, well. Sure, Jimmy. All the Brussels sprouts a boy can handle!”

“Great!” I could tell he was getting excited. “And people will like me?”

“Well, I was overstating a little bit when I said that people will like you, Jimmy. See, you’ll be soulless, and as such, people will refer to you behind your back as a cold hearted son of a bitch.” I looked at Claudia. “No offense, there. But your comfort will be that you’re so much better than everybody else that what they really think of you won’t even matter.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.”

“But what do you get out of it?”

“Well, there’s your soul. And I’ll have you do projects for me from time to time. But really, nothing you can’t handle. Small stuff, in comparison to what I’m giving to you.”

“I don’t know,” Claudia began. “My great uncle said he sold his soul to you so he could be Donna Summer’s personal security guard. And now he’s got Alzheimer’s.”

“Well, he’s got Alzheimer’s. Who are you going to trust? Me or him?”

“But you’re the devil,” Claudia said.

“I know. But I’m a nice guy, right?”

“Uh.”

“Look,” I said, opening my briefcase. “I’ve got some brochures here you can read. Take some time, talk it over, make up your minds. I don’t want you to feel rushed or pressured.” I looked at my watch, then pulled a business card out of my pocket. “Here’s my card. Call me within 24 hours with your decision, or the deal’s off.”

Before I left, I chucked Jimmy affectionately under the chin. It was a nice touch, I thought, congratulating myself on being so smooth. “Just think, Jimmy. By this time tomorrow, you could be sitting down to a nice, steaming plate of Brussels sprouts. Think it over. I’ll talk to you later.” Then, as an added bonus, I disappeared into thin air. Man, I’m good.

3:54 p.m., Hell

“Amelia, are the Millers here yet?”

“They’re in the waiting room, sir. Would you like me to show them in?”

“Nah, let ‘em wait until 4:15.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How’s my hair?”

“Looking good, sir.”

“My teeth?”

“You’re like a toothpaste commercial, sir.”

“Thanks, Amelia,” I said, sitting in my chair and propping my feet up on my desk, “you’re an angel.”

“Now, sir…” She grinned at me and started out of my office, then paused. “Oh, sir? How did it go in Wisconsin?”

“The deal’s in the bag.”

“Good job, sir.”

“All in a day’s work, Amelia. All in a day’s work.”

The Literary Kicks message boards were active from 2001 to 2004.