All Life Demons

By the following weekend, Violet felt as if a great new chapter in her life had opened up. As it is with spring, out with the old and in with the new. And it was a change she more than welcomed with open arms.

From her long and numerous conversations with Michael throughout the week, she deduced that he was suffering from a severe case of amnesia, as he could not name where he came from or anyone he knew. Not wanting to leave him without anywhere to go, Violet graciously offered him a place to stay underneath her roof. He seemed harmless enough. In fact, Michael was more gentlemanly than any guy she’d ever had the pleasure – or displeasure – of meeting. After each of their meals, he was more than happy to volunteer clearing their plates and assembling them in the dishwasher. When Violet’s dining room table centerpiece of fresh flowers died, he offered to walk down to the corner florist and buy new ones.

But as much as she greatly appreciated him for all his chores, favors, and other odd jobs, some of his minor concerns over her own little habits greatly annoyed her.

Over the course of the week, Michael repeated questioned why she would never say “Grace” right before each meal. He was a little perturbed over the fact that she seemed to have misplaced her Bible; she thought she had lent it to her mother years prior, but wasn’t completely sure. Then there were her numerous exclamations of “Oh my God!” “Goddamnit,” “Holy motherfucker!” etc. that he didn’t exactly take too kindly to. Even worse, was his stink over her eating pepperoni pizza for dinner on Friday. Not that Violet had a problem with him being religious, but she hated the feeling that he was trying to cram it down her throat.

Some yelling, screaming, arm-flailing, finger-pointing, and major apologies later though, and everything was all made up. Nothing truly says sorry more than a well-intentioned and well thought out meal for two.

By Saturday, things between the two had thankfully much cooled down.

Being such a gorgeous day out, neither one could resist taking advantage of the nice weather. Dressed in long jeans, a black tank-top, and matching flip-flops, Violet was ready for a relaxing stroll through the park with Michael by her side. He, on the other hand, having brought no real clothes with him, was forced to wear some leftover clothing that once belonged to Violet’s older brother. He lived with her for a time, but must have forgotten to take a few items with him. Thankfully they fit Michael just perfect; an old pair of denim jeans with a torn knee and an even older band t-shirt. It may not have been the angel’s first choice, but that’s not what counted at the moment. At least he would blend in with the crowd, even while holding a picnic basket with their lunch inside and blanket.

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Today could not be a more perfect day to be out and about. Even though he quickly and almost perfectly acclimated to my lifestyle, I still wonder about his past. Except for his name, he has no recollection whatsoever about his past. He looks about my age, I guess. Is he someone’s boyfriend? Fiancé? Husband? Does he have children?

Every little thing he does intrigues me more and more. Especially all his cute little day-to-day rituals that he runs through. Maybe he’s originally from the South, judging by his deep religious beliefs? He’s got beautiful ey-

“Watch your step!”

Torn from my daydream of wonderment, I glanced down at the ground quick enough to withdraw my foot from stepping in mud.

“Ughhhh…” I groaned in disgust and curled my toes under. It had rained last night, so much of the ground was still saturated or mucky. Now I was in an even bigger pickle. The whole width of the path we were walking on was covered in a huge mud puddle, and the grass was soaking wet also. Guess we’d have to turn around because my jumping and leaping skills weren’t exactly great.

“Let me get that for you.”

While attempting to muddle through this problem in my head, Michael was already way ahead of me. Laying down the jacket he brought with him in the mud in front of me, he extended his hand out to me.

“You can’t be serious?” I exclaimed. “My brother paid big bucks for that jacket you know,” I giggled, still in disbelief.

“If you think I’m kidding, then chivalry must be dead. What a shame,” he grinned.

This boy is definitely racking up major points on the gentleman-in-hiding scale!

“In that case, I’ll take you up on your offer before the deal expires,” I said, finally taking his hand as he walked me across the squishy surface.

Once back on solid ground, Michael picked up the dirty jacket and tried to brush it off the best he could. Alas, I think it was a goner. As if he could see inside my head, he reassured me, “If your brother’s that worried about me, tell him his new one’s on me.”

Generous, too.

We continued to walk in silence down the weather-beaten path; myself taking in the fresh sights, sounds, and smells of the season buzzing around me before we found a relatively dry spot on the grass to finally lie the blanket down.

Not far from where we were enjoying some sandwiches which I’d made and other snacks, a Little League game was in play.

“Heh!” I shouted and pointed towards the baseball diamond, my mouth full of turkey and cheese.

“Maybe you should swallow first, before you talk?” Michael suggested with a wink while taking a swig from his water bottle.

“Haha, very funny,” I finished chewing and swallowed the lump down, sticking my tongue out at him. “You see the kids in the dark blue uniforms? They’re the Brooklyn Barracudas.”

“How do you know them?” he asked.

“That was the name of our sports’ team when I was in elementary school. I played soft ball for them way back when.”

“No offense, but I don’t never picture Brooklyn having any barracudas nearby,” he joked.

“Forgive the political-correctness, but I don’t we would have done as well if we were, say, guppies or mudskippers,” I crossed my arms in mock offense. “Though, we were always called the Barracudas.”

“What do you mean?”

I explained, “When I first started school there in third grade, we were originally called the Blue Devils. I don’t know why they changed it; maybe the school board saw the need to ‘protect’ us kids from a scary name or some shit like that. Though that’s kind of a coincidence considering where I used to go.”

“Where’d you used to go?” Michael asked as he gathered up all of the trash we’d both accumulated to throw away in a trash can.

“We used to live in Jersey!” I yelled over to him so he could hear me. “We were the Red Devils, then! I guess there are some things in life you’ll never escape!”

Turning my attention back to baseball game in progress that ‘my’ team was losing (poorly, might I add), my body froze stone cold as a rogue baseball came flying directly towards my face. I watched horrendously as it soared in my direction, almost as if in slow-motion. Before I had time to move out of the way, a body and a pair of hands reached up over me and caught it, falling backwards.

The only audible sound I picked up in that fraction of a second later besides my deafening heart-beat was the collective gasp from the crowd around me.

“Gotcha! I believe this belongs to you, miss.”

When I was finally composed and my heart was back to its normal beating, I turned around to whomever acknowledge me, and problem saved me a trip to the ER.

Black from head-to-toe. That’s the first thing I noticed. It was a man dressed like he’d either just returned from a funeral or was on his way to one right now. Other than his porcelain skin, that is. Surprise, surprise; as appropriate as it was to be wearing sunglasses at this time of day, even they were black. Who was this guy?

“Well, are you going to take it, or won’t you? It’s won’t bite, you know?”

“Oh, sorry,” I said, trying to shake myself out of this strange stupor. “I must still be a little shaken.

“That’s quite understandable,” he replied, his voice very smooth and deep. Quite pleasing to the ears, might I add.

Stepping right in front of me and dropping on both knees so that we were now at eye – to sunglass - level, he held up the baseball again. With his other, I felt rough skin lightly take my left hand and place it in my palm, curling my fingers around the ball’s circumference.

Though they were whispered, I heard faint traces of several people “oohing” and “ahhhing,” causing my face to slightly blush on top of my already tanned complexion.

“You earned it,” he finished, standing at last and returned to his blanket behind most of the gathered crowd.

Shortly after my little ‘episode,’ Michael came back, beads of sweat gathering on his forehead.

“What took you so long?” I laughed, trying to fix his sweat-soaked hair which caused it to stick up in random places. “This park has dozens of trash cans.”

“Sorry, but most of them were either full, or brimming. Did I miss any good plays?”

“Just another home-run for the visiting team.”

“Awww…bummer!”

For the remainder of the game, Michael and I sat back-to-back, as we watched my team finally pull their act together to beat the shit out of the other team. About every ten minutes or so, I couldn’t help myself with something, though. I could not help but to turn my attention elsewhere, at the man who I guess I can say saved my life. They would only be nanosecond glances, however, for fear he might catch me looking. How devilish of me.