RUNNING WITH THE DEMON by Terry Brooks

She jumped onto the neatly swept porch, trailing dust and gravel in her wake, rang the doorbell with no perceptible effect, and then banged on the screen impatiently. “Robert!”

She knew he was there; the front door was open to the screen. She heard him finally, a rapid thudding of footsteps on the stairs as he dashed down from his room.

“All right already, I’m coming!” His blond head bobbed into view through the screen. He was wearing a T-shirt that said Microsoft Rules and a pair of jeans. He saw Nest. “What are you doing, banging on the door like that? You think I’ m deaf or something?”

“Open the door, Robert!”

He moved to unfasten the lock. “This better be important. I’m right in the middle of downloading a fractal coding system it took me weeks to find on the Net. I just left it sitting there, unprotected. If I lose it, so help me …” His fingers fumbled with the catch. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going swimming with Cass and Brianna. Matter of fact, I think they’re waiting for you. Didn’t Cass call you at your house? What am I, some sort of messenger service? Why does everything always depend on … Hey!”

She had the screen door open now, and she dragged him outside by his arm. “I need a bag of compost and a bag of softener salt.”

He jerked his arm free irritably. “What?”

“Compost and softener salt!”

“What are you talking about? What do you want with those?”

“Do you have them? Can we go look? This is important!”

Robert shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Everything is important to you. That’s your problem. Chill out. Be cool. It’s summer, in case you hadn’t noticed, so you don’t have to…”

Nest reached out and took hold of his ears. Her grip was strong and Robert gasped. “Look, Robert, I don’t have time for this! I need a bag of compost and a bag of softener salt! Don’t make me say it again!”

“All right, all right!” Robert was twisting wildly from the neck down, trying not to move his head or put further pressure on his pinioned ears. His narrow face scrunched up with pain. “Leggo!”

Nest released him and stepped back. “This is important, Robert,” she repeated carefully.

Robert rubbed at his injured ears and gave her a rueful look. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I’m sorry. But you have a way of bringing out the worst in me.”

“You’re weird, Nest, you know that?”

“I need some pitch, too.”

Robert gave her a look. “How about a partridge in a pear tree while we’re at it?”

“Robert.”

Robert stepped back guardedly. “Okay, let me go take a look out in the toolshed. I think there’s a couple bags of compost stored there. And there’s some salt for the conditioner in the basement. Jeez.”

They trotted out to the storage shed and found the compost, then returned to the house and went down into the basement, where they found the softener salt. The bags weighed fifty pounds, and it took both of them to haul each one out to the front porch. They were sweating freely when they finished, and Robert was still griping about his ears.

They dropped the compost on top of the softener salt, and Robert kicked at the bags angrily. “You better not grab me like that again, Nest. If you weren’t a girl, I’d have decked you.”

“Do you have any pitch, Robert?”

Robert put his hands on his narrow hips and glared at her. “What do you think this is, a general store? My dad counts all this stuff, you know. Maybe not the salt, since that doesn’t have anything to do with his precious yard, but the compost for sure. What am I supposed to tell him when he asks me why he’s missing a bag?”

“Tell him I borrowed it and I’ll replace it.” Nest glanced anxiously towards the park. “How about the pitch?”

Robert threw up his hands. “Pitch? What’s that for? You mean like for patching roads? Tar? You want tar? Where am I supposed to find that?”

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