* * *
When I arrived home Benny was waiting for me on the porch. The fact that he was not sitting, but rather standing, hands in pockets and looking expectantly at my arrival, made me suspect he had an idea of what was going on. Though, the half-smile on his face suggested he was not all that concerned.
“You got my message?” I asked as I climbed from my car.
He shook his head, eyebrows raised, “Nope. Feel like a beer?”
It had struck me before that the relationship between the brothers did not exactly seem warm, but what Benny’s response to recent developments would be was a mystery. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Brent has had his face smashed in by loan sharks and we need to come up with some money. Fast. Is that about the sum of it?”
My brain did a few flip flops. “How did you know?”
“I’m an Enforcer, Jet, that’s what I do. Beer?”
Twenty minutes later we were seated at the bar in the Holy Carousel. You’ll be pleased to know that be it weekend or weekday, you can rely on the Holy Carousel providing sticky floors and a fine aroma of spilt beer. Behind us, a group of loud, horribly drunk men were watching one or another sport on a wall mounted TV.
Benny had offered we take his car, and bizarrely had not made another mention of his brother for the entire trip. By the time we arrived I had started to wonder if hearing him speak the exact course of events had been a hallucination.
Now, as I took a sip of my coffee, (having decided against beer), and watched as he proceeded with the familiar cigarette rolling ritual, I found that his uninterested attitude had brought me to a place of numb relaxation. It was as if his decision to not acknowledge the scenario somehow made it less real.
“Benny, I have to ask something,” I said, speaking above the wild cheers of the sport fans.
“Well, speak up,” he responded amiably, sticking the cigarette between his lips and lighting it.
“There’s a reason for your tobacco rolling ritual. What is it?”
“Paying half price for cigarettes is not a good enough reason for you?”
“There’s something more to it, isn’t there? You mentioned it once before, at the Department of Magic.”
He paused at this. Then, blowing out a cloud of smoke and stubbing the cigarette in an ashtray, he turned to me with a frown. “How has your training been going?”
I shrugged. “You mean apart from Selena beating me?”
“Yes, apart from that. You have learned something about demons, I assume.”
I thought about seeing the slivers of Selena’s life; the relationship between her and her mother, the demon stepping from the wall.
“Yes, I have learned some things.”
“Good. Tell me then, Jet, has The Witch explained to you what will happen if you cannot defeat your demon?”
“No. She hasn’t mentioned.”
He nodded. “I guess it couldn’t hurt if I filled you in on some things.”
“Please do.”
He drained the rest of his beer and raised a finger to the barman. In response the old man shuffled over, looking and moving as much like a zombie as ever.
“Oo whuh nutha eer?”
Benny was silent. This was only his first visit and his brain had not yet developed the connections that allowed for translation. “I beg your pardon, my good man?”
“Oo whuh nutha eer?!”
“Yes he wants another beer,” I stepped in, “And another coffee for me please.”
The barman turned, glaring at me through his one properly functioning eye. “Oo an yuh cofuh. Drih like uh mah, boi!”
He dumped a new beer in front of Benny, topped up my cup from a grimy coffee pot, then shuffled off to do whatever it was bitter barmen do.
“Right,” Benny said, taking a swig from his new beer, “The operative words here are Primary Crutch. And let me tell you, if you meet a person that needs a Secondary Crutch, they are not the most stable individual you’ll ever meet.”
“Got it.”
“As you are most likely aware, a demon is fed by your Spirit. And, as I’m sure you are also aware, your Spirit is used where you choose to spend it. Right?”
I nodded. “Right.”
“So then logically, as long as you are spending Spirit on your demon you will never be free of it. The trick is to simply not spend Spirit on your demon. When you learn how to do this, and do it effectively, you will be free of the creature. Forever. Though for some it does not come so easily. For example, me and Miss Selena The Witch. In the case that it is too dangerous to confront the creature, there are other means by which to stem the flow of Spirit. Namely, a Primary Crutch.”
I considered this, following his chain of thought. “So you spend the energy that would be used by your demon on… rolling cigarettes?”
“Yes,” he agreed, “The Spirit is never spent on your demon, hence it is controlled.”
“So then you are required to smoke?”
“Indeed.”
“You couldn’t have chosen something more… healthy?”
At this he chuckled heartily. “It’s not so much a choice as it is finding something that fits your personality.” There was a pause then he added, “It isn’t entirely bad though. There is an upside.”
“Yes?”
“Control of a demon is beneficial.”
“But always a burden?”
“Yes. Being rid of the demon is always a preference.”
A thought occurred to me. “So then Selena also has a Primary Crutch.”
“Correct.”
“Well? What is it?”
“I don’t know, Jet. Most prefer to keep it a secret.”
“Why?”
He grinned as if I had just told a naughty joke. Behind us, a random cheer went up from the sports watchers as something exciting happened on the TV. “Let me repeat; people have to find something that fits their personality…”
I frowned, knowing this was something to which I should know the answer. “And?”
“You really are very slow sometimes,” he muttered with a scoff, “Now, let’s talk about Brent, shall we?”
“Okay. And that’s something else I want to ask about. How did you know what happened with him? What kind of magic is that?”
“That’s called Logical Prediction.”
“Right, Selena mentioned it before. She also seems to know stuff before it happens. How?”
“Observation. Observe the world, observe the people in the world, see the potential, then guess what will happen next. It’s similar to predicting what will happen in the plot of a movie, easier than you might think, especially when you are able to understand people’s nature. I knew Brent would have his face smashed in by loan sharks the moment I told him to go sort out the situation.”
“And you let him do it? You couldn’t have helped him out?”
“Yes, I could’ve helped. But this was going to happen to him sooner or later, I decided it was time. Half my life has been spent sorting out his bad decisions. Enough is enough.”
I processed the information. “You did it on purpose?”
“On purpose?” He sighed. “No. I let events take their natural course. But I won’t lie, Brent has screwed me over one too many times and I kind of wanted to see it happen.”
“Right. That’s heavy.”
Another cheer went up from the crowd. It indicated a new beat for the conversation.
“So what are we going to do?” I asked at last.
“You know where he is being held?”
“Yes. At least I assume he’s still being held there.”
“How many?”
Pout and Sunglasses. And let’s not forget Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum the silent henchmen. “Four. But one is a magic user.”
“Ah. Any good?”
“I have no idea. He seemed competent, I guess.”
“They have guns?”
“Not that I saw”
He loo
ked at me and raised his eyebrows. “Well?”
“What?”
“We could go in and get him.”
“You mean…?” I had a vivid mental image of kicking in the hotel door and letting loose with some Spirit. Yes, it was appealing in an action hero sort of way, but at the same moment Brent’s bloodied face returned in graphic detail. With a man’s life at risk action hero fantasies seemed rather childish. There was every possibility Brent would have a bullet in his head before we even made it up the steps. Hell, there was every chance I’d have a bullet in me before we made it up the stairs. “Not so sure about that, Benny. Seems pretty risky.”
He shrugged and swigged the beer. “I suppose. Would have been cool though.” The words sounded genuine but I got the impression he knew my answer before I gave it. “So, guess we’ll be gambling after all.”
“Guess so.”
“When do they want the money?”
“One week.”
“Think you’re up to it?”
“I have to be.”
“Right you are. Then here’s what we’ll do; I’ll set up the big poker game for Saturday. Between now and then we’ll practice as much as possible. I think maybe we should hit a few low key games. How does that sound?”
“Sure.”
“Great. Then you just focus on honing your skill, I’ll take care of the rest. Deal?”
“Could I say no?” It was a rhetorical question. Even if I was heartless and didn’t give a crap about Brent’s life, I happened to require the money fairly badly. But truthfully I felt responsible for Brent. We had been partners after all. And partners didn’t leave partners in the thick of it.
“Sure you could,” he answered, “Will you?”
“Of course not. What about Selena?”
“What about her?”
“You don’t think she’ll be watching me? Or… logically predict this outcome?”
“Possibly. But keep in mind that Logical Prediction isn’t an exact science, Jet, it’s a fairly flawed process.”
“She seemed pretty good at it.”
“What choices are there? You know another way to make quick money without knocking off a bank?”
Short of winning the lottery, I could think of no other way that produced good money and came from a “legal” source. “Not off the top of my head.”
“Then you better get some rest today, we have a hell of a week ahead of us.”
And what a week it turned out to be.