RUNNING WITH THE DEMON by Terry Brooks

“He seems like a fine young man to me,” her grandfather was saying. He was leaning against the counter at the sink, his back to the window. Nest could see his shadow in a pool of light thrown on the ground. “He was pleasant and straightforward when he came up to speak to me at Josie’s. He didn’t ask for a thing. It was my idea to invite him to dinner.”

“You’re too trusting, Robert,” her grandmother replied. “You always have been.”

“He’s given us no reason to be anything else.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit odd, him showing up like this, unannounced, uninvited, just to see us, to talk about a girl he hasn’t seen in over fifteen, sixteen years? A girl who’s been dead all that time and never a word from him? Do you remember Caitlin ever saying anything about him, ever even mentioning his name?”

Old Bob sipped from his coffee cup, thinking. “No, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t know him.”

“It doesn’t mean he was a friend, either.” Nest could picture Gran sitting at the kitchen table, bourbon and water in hand, smoking her cigarette. “I didn’t like the way he took to Nest.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Evelyn.”

“Don’t invoke God for my sake, Robert!” Gran shot back. “Use the brain he gave you instead! Suppose, for a minute, John Ross is not who he claims. Suppose he’s someone else altogether.”

“Someone else? Who?”

“Him, that’s who.”

There was the sound of ice cubes tinkling in an empty glass and of a fresh cigarette being lit, then silence. Nest watched her grandfather place his coffee cup on the counter, saw his leonine head lower, heard him sigh.

“He’s gone, Evelyn. He’s not coming back. Ever.”

Her grandmother pushed back her chair and rose. Nest could hear her move to the counter and pour herself a drink. “Oh, he’s coming, all right, Robert. He’s coming. I’ve known it from the first, from the moment Caitlin died and he disappeared. I’ve always known it.”

“Why would he do that?” Old Bob’s voice sounded uneasy. “Evelyn, you can’t be serious.”

Nest stood transfixed in the heat and the dark, unable to turn away. They were talking about her father.

“He wants Nest,” Gran said quietly. She drew on the cigarette and took a long swallow of the drink. Nest heard each sound clearly in the pause between her grandmother’s words. “He’s always wanted her.”

“Nest? Why would he want Nest? Especially after all this time?”

“Because she’s his, Robert. Because she belongs to him, and he doesn’t give anything up this side of the grave. Don’t you know that by now? After Caitlin, don’t you know that?”

There was another pause; and then some sounds that Nest could not identify, muttered words perhaps, grumbling. Her grandfather straightened at the window.

“It’s been fifteen years, but I remember him well enough.” Old Bob spoke softly, but distinctly. “John Ross doesn’t look anything like him, Evelyn. They’re not the same man.”

Gran gave a quick, harsh laugh. “Really, Robert. Sometimes you appall me. Doesn’t look like him? You think for a minute that man couldn’t change his looks if there was reason enough to do so? You think he couldn’t look like anyone he wanted to? Don’t you realize what he is?”

“Evelyn, don’t start.”

“Sometimes you’re a fool, Robert,” Gran declared sharply. “If you want to go on pretending that I’m a crazy old woman who imagines things that aren’t there, that’s fine. If you want to pretend there’s no feeders in the park, that’s fine, too. But there’s some things you can’t wish away, and he’s one of them. You saw what he was. You saw what he did to Caitlin. I wouldn’t put anything past him. He’s coming here, coming for Nest, and when he does he won’t be stupid enough to look the same as he did when he left. You do what you want, Robert, but I plan to be ready for him.”

The kitchen was silent again. Nest waited, straining to hear.

“I notice you didn’t worry about letting him take her into the park,” Old Bob said finally.

Gran didn’t say anything. Nest could hear the sound of her glass being raised and lowered.

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