Now Playing On The Jukebox In Hell Part 13

"Razor-sharp as ever," she shot back. "Why, I'll bet you can count to 20 without even using your toes. I just came by to drop off your termination papers. I can't believe I had to come all the way to this sorry excuse for a one-horse town." A little smirk. "So where do they keep the horse?...You look awful, by the way. Is this your family?"

"She doesn't look awful," Ca.s.sie growled. "She just hasn't had a shower yet."

Wonderful. Out of all that gibberish, she chose that part to respond to. My mother, on the other hand, zeroed right in. "Termination papers?"

"Oh, yes. It's a long story. May I?" Without waiting to find out whether she might, Vanessa took the last vacant chair. "She was fired a couple of weeks ago. They were both fired, actually. Devlin's problem was something about insubordination and witchcraft, but..."

"She was fired?" Mom repeated, rounding on me with a dire expression.

I didn't need that right then. "We're appealing it. It's a misunderstanding."

"That's not the point, young lady. You were fired, and you didn't tell me?"

"How is it your business?"

"If I could finish," Vanessa said, clearly enjoying herself, "I'll tell you about the insubordination."

I broke off glaring back at Mom long enough to include her. Then I checked Connor and Amy. They looked vaguely stunned, which was fine as long as it kept them both quiet. "Just give me the papers, Vanessa. Then get out."

"What for? I might miss something."

"That's the point."

Ca.s.sie narrowed her eyes at Vanessa. "Let's have a little talk in the other room. Devvy, why don't you go get your shower now?"

"Not a chance. I'm not leaving you alone with that...that..."

"Demon?" Vanessa supplied sweetly.

I let that go. "Not to mention alone with my family. We're going to pack now and go straight to the motel, got that?"

"No," Ca.s.sie said.

"No?"

"No." Purposefully, she pushed her chair back and walked over to pat my shoulder. "I'll handle this."

"But..."

"No buts. Go shower. I'll handle it." When I hesitated, she gave me a little push. "Don't make me force you."

"I'd pay to see that," Connor said reverently.

Amy, somewhat recovered, kicked him hard enough to make him jump.

"Go," Ca.s.sie said again. "Now. Please?"

I couldn't very well refuse when she'd asked nicely; it would get me a lecture from Mom on top of the lecture I would already get about being fired. Besides, it would give me time to think. I did some of my best thinking in the shower; maybe lightning would strike.

Reluctantly, I turned to go upstairs. The last thing I heard was Vanessa's laughter.

I hoped she got a bad piece of coffee cake.

Some Christmas this was going to be.

My relatives were already on their worst behavior, and now a demon was sitting at the kitchen table. No matter what, things were only going to get worse, and no matter what Ca.s.sie said, we were leaving as soon as I got done here.

Muttering, I got a towel and washcloth out of the linen closet and started unpacking my toilet kit on the counter. Just as I was pulling the razor out of its travel case, something moved in the mirror behind me. Startled, I turned. Nothing was there. And for my trouble, I'd cut myself with the razor.

Great. Just my luck today, there'll be sharks in the tub.

I jumped again as a breeze blew past. That might have been my imagination, and so might the soft laughter that went with it, but it might also have been Vanessa's idea of a prank. The best thing to do was get a quick shower and get out.

Putting the weirdness firmly out of my mind, I hung my robe on the linen-closet doork.n.o.b and turned on the tap in the bathtub. A stream of bright-red liquid flowed out. It looked disturbingly like...

Blood. Quickly, I shut the tap off. A few seconds later, I turned it on again. The water ran clear.

"Humbug," I said deliberately, getting in and pulling the curtain.

It was almost the fastest shower on record. I was just rinsing my hair when the lights went out, which was inconvenient but not critical. There were candles on the counter -- Hawthorne women were big on decorating bathrooms with fancy soaps and candles, which I'd learned the hard way were not for actual use -- and I could always light one.

But before I could even turn off the water, I heard a match strike and saw a faint glow through the shower curtain.

"Ca.s.sie?"

No answer. Maybe she was busy lighting the candles; the room was starting to fill with flickering light.

"What happened? Did the power go out?"

Very brief silence. Then a strong wind rose out of nowhere, flapping the shower curtain and blowing out the candles.

"Vanessa?"

I half-heard that soft laughter again -- immediately followed by an explosion of thunder and lightning.

There wasn't time to be scared. Whether the bathroom was haunted was pretty much irrelevant at the moment anyway; I was standing in a shower in a lightning storm, which was asking for trouble. Reaching down, I tried to shut the water off, but my hand pa.s.sed through something ice-cold. Alarmed, I pulled back.

In the flashes of lightning, I faintly made out the shape of a woman dressed in black, standing under the shower spray. I couldn't see her face, but her hair was blowing as though she were in a high wind -- and both it and her clothes were completely dry. In the darkness between lightning bolts, I saw a pair of glowing red eyes.

Oh-oh.

Not being a fool, I tried to get out of the tub at that point. But the shower curtain wouldn't budge. That wasn't good. I was a little underdressed for an emergency, not to mention soaking wet, and the only weapon at hand was a plastic squeegee. Still, you do what you have to do with what you have. Yanking the squeegee off its hook, I held it out in front of me like a sword.

The thing in the shower spray laughed -- a weird sort of laughter, like mice on helium. Then it disappeared. But was it really gone?

Again, my peripheral vision caught movement, this time above me. I waited for the next flare of lightning.

A huge black snake was wrapped around the shower head, its own head inches from mine, forked tongue flickering.

Well, that was just about enough shower time for one day. And it was time to get the h.e.l.l out of there. Still gripping the squeegee, I gathered all my strength and tackled the immovable curtain.

A second too late, I realized that everything had suddenly gone back to normal -- the storm was gone, the lights were back on, and I was hurtling through an ordinary, very movable shower curtain at a high rate of speed. Whatever I hit, it was going to hurt.

I braced for the worst as something grabbed me.

(c) 2000, K. Simpson To Part 12 The Devil's Workshop (c) 2000, M.C. Sak Disclaimers, Credits, & E-Mail: See Part 1.

Chapter Notes:.

William "Refrigerator" Perry played football for the Chicago Bears in the '80s. He was about the size of...well, a refrigerator. The Adam-and-Steve reference goes back to the first story in this series and is linked here for anyone who wants a reminder.

CHAPTER 12.

"Going somewhere?"

a familiar voice asked. "Dressed like that?"

Still in shock, I tried to break free, but Ca.s.sie held on. "Easy. Take it easy. It's me. What's the matter?"

Getting words out took a few tries. "It's in the shower."

"OK," she said evenly. "Let's have a look. Let me have this first." When I refused, she tried to pry my fingers off the squeegee. "Come on -- let go now."

"It's huge. Gigantic. It did this thing with its tongue, and..."

Still intent on disarming me, she only half-listened to that. "And you were going to squeegee it to death? Great plan, honey. Let go."

With a vicious swipe, I took it out of her reach. Keeping a sharp eye on her, I put my robe on -- rather awkwardly, what with having a squeegee in one hand, but on just the same. "Stand back," I warned.

"Why?"

Why? I'd show her why. Then she'd be sorry. Weapon at the ready, I advanced on the shower curtain and yanked it down the rod, revealing...nothing. No monster serpents, no apparitions, nothing. Just the water still running.

Sighing, Ca.s.sie leaned back against the counter. "I can't wait to hear the explanation for this."

"There was a snake in the shower," I said sulkily. "As big as Refrigerator Perry."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. What kind of question is that?"

"Well, honey, it's winter. There's a foot of snow on the ground. If your parents have snakes, they're probably hibernating."

"Snakes don't hibernate."

"How do you know?"

I didn't, in fact, but we were getting off the subject. "That one was wide awake."

Ca.s.sie thought it over for a second. Then she crossed the bath to give me an oppressively comforting hug. "It's all right now. Everything's fine. You've just had too much stress lately. Why don't..."

"I'm not having stress!" I shouted, pus.h.i.+ng her away.

"...you get dressed, and we'll go for a walk. I think we could both use some fresh air. How about it?"

"Don't patronize me."

"I'm not patronizing you. I'm trying to get you to calm down and start making sense. Give me that." Making an unexpected move, she seized the squeegee and threw it in the clothes hamper, where it wouldn't be a distraction anymore. "Now talk to me. What happened?"

Bitterly, knowing she wouldn't believe me, I told her.

"It's probably just Monica," she said.

"Not her style."

"She has no style."

I started to argue the point but decided it would be a fool's errand. "Would it be too much trouble to tell me what you're doing in here, anyway? Aren't you supposed to be downstairs handling my family?"

"Oh. That." To my alarm, she looked vaguely guilty. "Well, you see, Devvy..."

"I never end up liking sentences that start that way," I muttered.

"...I was trying to tell them to go easy on you, because it's not against the law, but..."

"What's not against the law?"

"You and me. Us. Together. You know." You'd better know, her expression added. "I was trying to get them to back off, but your mother got upset, and...well..."

Worse and worse. "And then what?"