Mortimer had made fun of her for the last time. He had pulled her hair and called her fat, and now she was going to summon Satan to kill him.
'Upon the winds, I call to Thee, oh Dark Prince'�'�
'Sue,'� a voice slipped up behind her, 'What are you doing?'� The shadow demon emerged from the obscurity of her open closet.
'I'm gunna ask Devil t'kill Morty,'� she said with a tip of her nose to the air.
The horned demon wisped to Sue's side, laying a consoling limb around her shoulder. 'Aw, but you're doing it all wrong ' you have to have all the proper stuff, and besides, what did your brother do to make you want to kill him, hmm?'�
'He called me names! He's always callin' me names, Hyjinx! Last week he stole my bobby dolls and burned all their heads off!'�
Hyjinx swirled about the little girl and lifted her up into his lap. 'Perhaps we shouldn't invoke the devil just yet; I understand he is a rather busy fellow. Hot tempered as well'�'�
'I don't care! Morty's never gunna stop 'til I show him a lesson!'�
Vaporous fingers rubbed over his pointy chin. 'Perhaps I could help with this lesson, hmm?'�
'You gunna kill 'im?'�
'Oh, no - I could do much better than that'�'�

Mortimer Bolotski was busy driving over everyone in town with a train when the shadow demon arrived.
'Smash Smash Smash! Grrrrrr! Kill!'�
'Mortimer'�'�
The little boy did not respond; he continued to sit with his legs crossed, moving his father's Amtrak model over the sloping green hills of Hobbleville. 'Haha! Die, paperboy!'�
Samuel Tweed, the Hobbleville paperboy, was running across the street with one hand in the air and the other on his billowing bag full of newspapers; his red pit of a mouth wide-open and yelling unknown headlines to the plastic townsfolk for the past three years. Hobbleville was a quaint and quiet community; no one ever bothered one another, and there were no complaints regarding noise. No murders or thefts, just the distant giants that oversaw their placid lifestyle. Many times they were only passing clouds or the sources of the rumbling earth and thundering sky, but sometimes they would pick the citizens of Hobbleville up with their dirty, callused hands, moving them from building to building. When Dr. Severson's arm fell off, it was the quiet giant that put it back ' Now the doctor made his house calls with semi-transparent bubbles jutting from all sides of his previously severed limb. Anne Dimitri lost her color over the years, and it was again the quiet one who dabbed her with a sponge full of paint. He also ran the train: a three-car locomotive of unquestionable superiority, sleek in its gold-trimmed black body. It always made its presence known with a blast of its whistle ' an angelic swell of volume, the chord never jarred the unprepared. Rolling along its track, Baltimore Engine 132 was Hobbleville's clockwork guardian. But now the train had finally derailed, and Samuel Tweed, along with the rest of the immobile town, was in its direct line of sight.
'Chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga'� Woo! Woo!'� Mortimer had killed eleven people and unearthed three buildings. The general store was on its side, and with its fall, it had taken out the last two cars of Engine 132. the small victory was short lived, however; not only did the fall of the latter cars crush Mrs. Zigovitz and the baby in her carriage, the absent weight turned the engine into an unstoppable death rocket.
In a cricket's leap, Samuel Tweed evaded collision by clinging to the steeple of St. Benjamin's cathedral. 'Mortimer Bolotski!'� he said with a disjointed swivel of the head, 'Did you brush your teeth today?'�
Screaming for Mommy wasn't Mortimer's forte, and so he slugged the plastic paperboy with the train, and Samuel, along with the steeple, went flying into a wall.

'Dja kill im yet?'� Sue asked as Hyjinx floated through her door. His shoulders were hunched, and his head was low.
'No, Sue, I didn't kill him.'�
Sue turned back to her cauldron and resumed stirring.
'Where'd you get that?'�
'I picked it up in the woods.'�
'The woods?'�
'Yeah, the ones where I found the beast killed by spirits.'�
'What on earth are you'�?'�
'It was a deer killed by drunk kids'�in a car ' I shaved his antler and put it in here.'�
Hyjinx moved over Sue to look in the large black pot. There was a bubbling purple liquid inside. 'How'd you get it up here? How's it bubbling like that? Did you'� Is that a human'�'�
'The madman's femur?'� she asked, still stirring with the large bone. 'It came with the pot.'�
'Ha! But you don't have the courier's head!'�
'Not yet.'�
'And the mother's tear?'�
'Working on it.'�
He hovered toward the door. The girl was going to summon Satan if he couldn't torment the monster boy in the other room. Near the door he swiveled on the spot, casting a claw to the little girl. 'You don't know the Prisoner's Dance!'� It was the final step. After the pot was brewed, the dance would conjure the prince of darkness, but only if it was done just right.
'Last summer at Zhen Mao's Kung Fu/Dance Academy.'�
'Zhen Mao?'�
'I asked him ' he taught me.'�
The demon's face dropped. That gargantuan Chinese imposter teaching this little girl the Prisoner's Dance was too much. He would snap his head off, but first ' the little boy.

Mortimer was cursing at himself. He couldn't seem to get it right. The hamsters kept falling on the parquet floor, flying in the air, sliding down the walls. Their vertigo kept them steady long enough to gather them up again, but then it was try, try again.
He had never juggled before, but he was a tenacious learner. He fixed his eyes on the three hamsters wiggling over one another in his hands. If he could master juggling three at a time, then maybe he could get four, and then five ' then he could do it with flaming chainsaws! He didn't have more than three yet, but fate was looking out for his progress: Pickles was expecting.
Mortimer's coordination was out of sync. It seemed as soon as he would toss one hamster into the air, his other hand would just lob one at the wall. The last time Peppers hit the wall he bounced behind Mortimer's bed.
'Oh, Peppers, you stupid hamster!'� Mortimer dropped Pickles and her brother, Pimentos, and got down on his belly. 'You should know better, Peppers,'� he said, crawling to the brown cloth overhang of his bed. He lifted the sheet up with one hand as he peered inside. Two giant yellow eyes glared back at the little boy.
'Oh, there you are, Peppers! Now get out from under there!'� Mortimer reached in and grasped a hunk of thick fur. He yanked, but it didn't give. He reached in with his other hand and tried again. There was a soft ripping sound and Mortimer fell back in a tumble. He looked down at the two patches of scabby black fur in his hands, and then to the bed, which began to shake and growl. The legs chattered against the parquetry so hard the tiny scatterings of Pickles and Pimentos were lost to the ear.
Mortimer ran to his closet and the bed flew to the ceiling. When it came back down on the rat-man's back, it fell against the wall on its side. There was a rumbling behind the closet door, toward which the rat-man took its first step. The long whiskers fanned and twitched as it sniffed in the direction of the little boy's hiding place. Clacking its claws against the floor, it approached.
The door flew open and Mortimer stood, brandishing a 7-iron high in the air. His mouth was a grinning aperture of sardonic glee as he rushed toward the rat-man, his battle cry calling the strength of Valhalla. The golf club struck the creature twice before the rat could react. But after a dodge from the cackling youth, the club swatted the rat's snout so hard that Pickles and Pimentos were showered in red.
'FOR ODIN!'� he screamed, the 7-iron high, connecting his raised arms in his momentary triumph. Mortimer brought the stubby scythe down upon the rat-man's side. The monstrous rodent was stunned; it was long enough for Mortimer's finishing groin-shot to come through with a satisfying muscle-crushing crunch. He held his weapon high over his head as he ran out the door in a whooping dance of victory.
'I AM THE KING! I AM THE KING!'�

Sue was already downstairs with her mother. Mom looked up at the ceiling as her stomping son brought tears to her eyes.
'I'm sorry I had to tell you this,'� Sue said, still holding onto her mother's hand.
Mom shifted on the couch and looked back down at the bag again. 'No, I'm glad you did, Sue. It's best for Mortimer that we know. Now we'll be able to help him.'�
Sue smiled, but she had to hold back. Those tears were the next to last ingredient in her recipe to summon the evil one. It was hard to remain patient, but she sat and waited ' like a good girl should.
'I just don't know where he got it from.'�
'Probly that guy at school he's always talking to.'�
'But I don't understand'�'� Mom looked down, her eyes in a dazed shock. She fingered through the contents of the bag. ''�Cocaine?'�

Hyjinx dabbed the alcohol over his nose and winced in pain. 'Damn little thief,'� he muttered. 'What could possibly affect him?'� The demon tilted his head as he looked in the mirror. His eyes were dimmer. 'What am I doing here? Why do I waste my time? Perhaps I'll embark on a journey to New South Wales and charm a cattle rancher'�but no'�'� He finished in a mocking tone, 'I have to stop a five-year old girl from summoning Satan!'�
With a flush of aggravation and a drop of his head, the shadow demon sighed. 'God, just one vacation'�I'd buy a soul for just one measly holiday.'�

Sue was dropping the Kleenexes that held the prized tears into the cauldron when Hyjinx glided in like a heavy coat on a plastic hanger. 'Did you find the courier's head yet?'�
'No, but I have an idea.'�
'What is it?'�
'I'm not telling.'� She was stirring at the liquid with an artist's care.
'Why not?'�
'Because you'll mess up my plans if you know too much.'�
'But you're trying to summon Satan!'�
The girl was stubborn and never wavered. Her gaze was locked on her concoction, and all Hyjinx could find to do was try again.

'One thing that could drive a child to drugs,'� Officer Trippit explained, 'is an uncomfortable home environment.'� He hunched over even more and picked up the mug of hot tea. 'Has there been anything about Mortimer's home life that might trouble the child? Any big changes?'�
'Nothing's really changed around here that I can think of.'� Mrs. Bolotski looked around her living room to see it was all the same. 'Jeremy's been working late for the past week or so, but that hasn't really changed anything'�not really.'�
Officer Trippit's face fell in sympathy. 'I'm sorry to hear that, Mrs. Bolotski.'�
'Well, no,'� she shook her head, 'he's a very busy man.'�
'Yes, but'�most of the time when husbands do that it means'�'�
'Yes?'� she waited, ready to pounce.
'Well, like when I say that to the wife or'�or even if I'm actually taking the overtime, well, it means that either I can't stand going home anymore or there's a hot chick I wanna get with or I just wanna hang out with my friends.'�
'Jeremy is a very busy man!'�
'I understand that. I'm just saying that'�nobody ever wants to work, I mean not really. You stay there all day already, why would you wanna'�'�
There was a crash followed by sounds of banging. It came from the kitchen.

Mortimer was spelunking through the kitchen cabinets. He had made it past the pipes beneath the sink, but now he had found a vertical tunnel that climbed over the breakfast cereals. He stood to reach the precipice but his footing slipped when the corkwood ledge crumbled beneath his weight. With one quick movement, his elbow locked over the shelf and he pulled himself up.
He had come to a valley of fine China. Though no rays of light made an entrance, he could see how they might gleam. Stacked tall and with such studious care, the discs allowed little clearance for the young explorer. Still he wormed through, but with his body past the delicacy, the blindness of his feet thrashed and crashed the standing plates.
The sound signaled fear, and the fear shot his eyes open wide. Mortimer struggled to get out, but the doors were locked tight. His wriggling body scattered and broke the dishes around him as he repositioned himself to push against the doors with more force. There was no use; jamming his shoulder against the door served no light or freedom to the little boy. He was stuck.

Samuel Tweed screamed for no caring soul's ears as his head was lowered into the bubbling broth. Sue laughed a child's cackle as the tiny plastic head disappeared in the heated swill.
She began to dance.

Officer Trippit stopped at a skid on the kitchen tiles. The sound was coming from the cabinets. Mrs. Bolotski ran for the overhead doors without hesitation. The child was screaming.
A shadow scudded away, and the door opened to let Mortimer fall into his mother's arms.
It was at that moment that a tall man grew from out of the Bolotski family's kitchen floor. He had chosen a simple man-suit for the unknown calling - It was a suburb call after all. Horns jutted out from his gray fedora, and his confused expression twisted his bony features. 'Did someone call?'�
Sue bounded down the steps and ran toward the kitchen. Her grin faded: she was embarrassed to see a policeman and her mother standing before the subject of her invocation; she was angered to see her nemesis safe in the clutches of his mother; she was disappointed to see that Satan wasn't as frightening as she expected.
The devil looked in her direction. 'Was it you that summoned me here?'� The devil's attention sparked the others', and they too looked at Sue, standing so small in the hallway.
Sue was a mixture of feelings, but more than anything, it was her mother's eyes that made her want to take it all back. She envied her older brother to be so close to such security; nothing could harm him there - nothing could touch him. Not the officer's handcuffs. Not the devil's manacles. She only wished she could be there too.
When she looked up at Satan, she gave her head a quick shake from side to side. The devil grumbled, and the earth sucked him back down.



A week had passed, and Sue was alone in her room. She was busy drawing at her desk when Hyjinx came up to her.
'How was Vegas?'� she asked without looking up.
The shadow demon sighed. 'Not all it's cracked up to be.'�
'Yeah,'� Sue nodded. 'But at least you got to rest, right?'�
'Too many distractions. How are you and your brother doing?'�
'He hasn't bothered me in a while. He's been real good since Mom grounded him for breakin' all her plates.'�
'What was with the policeman? Why was he here?'�
'Oh'�I told her he was doing cocaine.'�
Hyjinx frowned and watched the little girl scribble black flowers in front of a wide castle. 'So then you're grounded too, right?'�
'Nope.'�
'Why didn't y'� You did tell her that you lied about the cocaine?'�
'Nope.'�
'Oh, dear'�'�

It was a long time before Mortimer saw his last N.A. meeting. But while he was away, Sue stole every moment to be in her mother's company. The cauldron was gone, and she hoped never to see the devil again.
Sometimes her mother would say, 'Sue, where do you want to go for your birthday?'� and she would always reply, 'I don't wanna go anywhere, Mommy. I wanna stay right here.'� And so she did.
Until the next weekend when the headless zombie came banging at her door; then she wanted to go far, far away.

But that is another story.

Want to comment on this Short Stories? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Short Stories and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...