10:18
There he stood, atop a boulder the size of a Volkswagen Beetle. All six feet of him, dressed in a sharply tailored suit, jacket buttoned in the front, practically every hair in place. All very businesslike, dapper despite the oppressive heat, which cast a shimmering aura around everything it touched. Desert cicadas hummed in the near distance.
From his perch he could make out the wavy silhouette of a vehicle on the horizon, dust billowing behind as it bounced along a dirt road. He looked up at the sky without so much as a squint, then down at the position of the boulder’s shadow.
“Remarkably prompt,” he uttered, words melting away in the sultry late-morning air.
Inside the Jeep, things were slightly less peaceful. A thick cloak of suspicion enveloped both Sheila and Toby as they sped toward their meeting. Toby pushed his sunglasses back up on his nose after a rough bump in the road.
“I still don’t get it, Sheila.”
“Get what? We’ve pretty much talked this to death.”
Toby raised his hand and started counting on his fingers. “First the skydiving, a true stumper considering you hate both heights and planes.” Sheila waved it off. “Second, our deep sea fishing trip to Cabo—”
“—That was just fishing!,” she barked over the noise of the bouncing Jeep. “For crying out loud, Toby! You’re being a little dramatic.”
“Uh, huh. This from the same little girl who, according to her own mother, wouldn’t go near an ocean for almost a full decade after seeing Jaws.” Toby allowed himself a grin. He always found that story amusing.
“You know Mom likes to exaggerate,” she asserted.
Yeah, but your dad and brothers don’t. They tell the same story.”
Sheila glanced off to the left at nothing in particular and moved her auburn hair behind her left ear. “So I’ve opened up a little. You didn’t seem to mind my new bikini on that trip.” They’d argued about that, too. Toby was more than a little unprepared for all the attention she’d gotten when wearing it.
“You wore a one-piece before; that was a big deal. And you know it.”
“What is your problem with my wanting to live a little?” Sheila asked defensively, nimbly containing the steering wheel as it vibrated with every bump.
“I have no problem with it, but most people nibble at life, ease into facing their anxieties. You hardly chew your bites lately. You’re even driving my Jeep. You all but ripped the keys from my hands an hour ago.” He gripped the door handle as the Jeep skidded a little coming out of a left turn. Sheila just turned and smiled.
“We’re almost there,” she said. “Do you have an answer yet?” Toby stared ahead, eyeing the man stepping off a boulder. “I’m working on it.”
He expected a rooster-tail stop, but she eased the vehicle to a halt about five yards from the boulder where the stranger now stood. Her unexpectedly restrained stop did little to ease the tension.
“Ready?” she asked confidently.
“No, but let’s get this done.”
They exited the Jeep simultaneously; Sheila left the keys dangling in the ignition. Who would possibly steal it? The only other living things out here were smart enough to remain in whatever shade could be found—except her mystery man, making Toby feel more uncomfortable with each step forward.
“Sheila! Nice to see you again, my dear.” Gently he took her hand and raised it to his lips, then looked askance at Toby. “This must be him. Toby, isn’t it?” Accusing eyes met each other.
“Yes, it is.” Toby bristled.
The stranger extended his hand. Toby reluctantly shook it, noticing a lack of warmth in his flesh.
“Good to finally meet you. Sheila has said much about you. All of it good, I assure you.” He backed up a couple of steps to stand between them. “She seems duly convinced that you and I could do business together.”
Toby noticed that despite the desert heat the stranger had no visible perspiration. And his eyes—yes, his eyes glistened with an eerie darkness, like sheer obsidian.
“And you are?” Toby questioned, nervously adjusting his sunglasses.
“Luke. Call me Luke.”
“Well, Luke, if I may say so it strikes me as more than strange to meet you out here in this blast furnace. Not to mention your attire. And Sheila never explained what you do.”
“I’m in—lower management. And the locale, well…it reminds me of home.”
“Not from around here?” Toby asked, still uncomfortable.
“Not per se, no.”
Sheila had taken to the sparse shade of a nearby Palo Verde tree.
“Relax, Toby. My relationship with Sheila is strictly business. Surely you’ve noted a change in her lately.”
Couldn’t help but notice, he thought. Despite his sunglasses he held his hand to his forehead to shade the sun’s glare from his eyes and then looked from Luke to Sheila and back.
“Toby, you’ve doted on her, supported her, shown her every kindness you could provide,” said Luke. “Safe to say you love her?”
“Of course. She knows I do.”
“But you couldn’t give her something she’d been missing—so she sought me out.” Toby took an emotionally fueled lunge forward. “Easy, Toby,” Luke stated calmly. “Your manliness was never the issue.”
“What the hell makes you such an expert on her?” Toby growled.
“We had a nice chat about her deepest desires, things she’d wanted to do and accomplish during her life. So we struck a deal. We have a contractual agreement, she and I. Very binding, I might add.” Even in the arid heat his words felt winter cold. “Everybody has dreams, Toby. You’re no exception.” Luke eased forward a couple of steps as he spoke, making a spherical shape with his hands. “Genghis Khan and Adolf Hitler both wanted ultimate power. Van Gogh desperately wanted to impress a woman,” he said, bending an ear. “Some crave fame, others fortune, or perhaps—revenge?”
“You think I want revenge? For what?”
“No, but some people do; some are so fanatical about it they’ll do anything to achieve it.”
“Revenge isn’t on my list,” said Toby trying to keep his voice level.
“Fair enough. So what is?”
Toby looked over at Sheila again. She nodded approvingly.
“The things I desire you couldn’t possibly provide.”
“Don’t be so sure. Try me.” Luke had casually made his way to the Jeep, opposite Toby, who’s eyes followed every step.
“What kind of deal? Sheila wouldn’t give me specifics, just told me that would be up to you.”
“A traditional business deal. Each party gets something for their individual investment.” Luke slowly reached inside his jacket and extracted two tri-fold pieces of paper, one with and one without a seal, then held them up in quick display. “All perfectly legal and explained herein,” he said.
“I want to read the contract first.”
“In a moment—there’s no contract without some sort of service or product provided, so first you need to decide what it is you want most.”
“There’s certainly a catch, or some dark contractual stipulation. Do I have to kill someone first?”
Luke stifled a laugh behind his salesman grin. “No, no. You needn’t take any life.” He laid the documents on the Jeep’s hood, then straightened the jacket and stuck his hands in his pants pockets. “I can help you with just about anything outside of things involving free will. Like love, for instance.” Luke motioned for Sheila to come forward. “So—whadya’ think, Toby?”
“What’s the rush?”
“I’m a busy man, Toby. I make deals all over the world, so my time is very valuable. I can help you, but you have to let me help you.”
“Toby, I want this for both of us,” Sheila added. “I want you to be as happy as I have been these last few weeks. I’m living proof that the man keeps his word.”
“No way. Not until I get to read the contract.” Toby shook his head.
Luke acquiesced after
a moment of consideration. “Alright. Open up the one without the seal.”
Toby unfolded the paper and read. Sheila watched patiently, but patience quickly succumbed to troubling concern. Even in the parched daylight she could see him turn pale.
“Toby? Honey, you okay?” No reply. Crystalline panic gripped her. “Toby, what is it?”
He leaned against the vehicle, oblivious to the heat of the metal. “My, uh, Latin is pretty rusty.” Again he stared at the opaque sheet in his hands. “Sheila, that cut on your thumb—you told me that was a paper cut, right?” She held up her thumb as if she’d forgotten all about it. “Tell me it was a paper cut, Sheila.” His voice had recovered, and was now very emphatic. “Tell me.”
“Toby, I—”
“Did you or did you not get that cut from paper?” His voice wasn’t raised, but clearly urgent.
“Tell him the truth, Sheila.” Luke crossed his arms.
She began to slowly choke on her guilt. “I used the edge of the contract to draw blood. Luke said the contract wasn’t valid without it!”
She watched Toby frantically grab the other document and break the seal. He found the stain he was looking for and angrily tossed the paper aside. “Pactum cruoris per subscriptus animam tuam proceris debis. Have you the slightest notion who this man is?”
“Luke,” she mustered through welling tears.
As frustrated as she made him, Toby still couldn’t stand to see her cry. He pulled her against him in a weak effort at reassurance.
“No, Sweetie,” Toby almost whispered, “it’s not Luke.” Sheila leaned back to look at him.
“What do you mean, not Luke?”
Toby gently wiped her cheeks. “Ironic that he should use a biblical reference as his name.”
Sheila looked wide-eyed at Toby, then at Luke. “I, I don’t understand, Toby—”
“The Latin roughly translates as ‘by signing in blood, you owe your soul to the Prince.’”
“Prince?” she sniffed. “What prince?”
Toby held her tight as he spoke to Luke. “You can’t possibly bind her to the contract. She had no idea who she was dealing with. It’s entirely unfair!”
“Fair?” Luke’s laugh was menacing. “You talk to me of fair?”
“She didn’t know!”
“Toby! Didn’t know what?” Sheila broke in. “Luke’s a prince?”
Toby stared directly into Luke’s serpentine gaze. “Luke 10:18: I beheld Satan fallen as lightning from heaven.” Sheila spun halfway around to stare at Luke. “Something we were taught in high school catechism to scare us. It’s always stuck with me.”
With a haunting calm, Luke reached down and unbuttoned his jacket before continuing. “But what’s in a name? It’s a non-essential detail. We have a binding contract, Sheila. I have given what you asked. You, however, have not delivered as promised,”
“Delivered what?” asked Toby.
“You.” Luke stated flatly.
“Me?”
“Her contract stipulates that without delivering you she immediately forfeits any further claim and the contract is invoked. It’s all there.” An unhallowed grin let loose upon his face. “It is time, Sheila.”
“Toby!” she screamed, knees buckling and body quickly collapsing under its own weight. Toby gently lowered her until he was kneeling, cradling her.
Luke practically crooned his appraisal. “I’ve certainly underestimated you, Toby, which is unusual for me. You’re not as weak as I thought.” Luke paused to briefly take in the surroundings again. “So much like home,” he sighed.
“You can’t do this! Please! She had no idea!” Toby pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion.
“Oh, but I can. Ut diabolus filiam, Toby!”
Toby mouthed the words, trying to remember—devil—filiam . . .”
“Toby!” Sheila clung to him and cried hysterically.
Words failed him. Only thing he could do was hold her tightly, gently rocking back and forth.
“Toby! No! Don’t leave me!” Sheila cried.
Luke quietly turned and headed back toward the boulder, finally disappearing behind it.
Suddenly all was quiet, save for desert cicadas in the distance and the hot breeze that floated by. Sheila’s body had gone limp, lifeless. Toby pulled her head against his chest, and cried into her hair. With vile cruelty the words came back to him: To the Devil, a daughter.