The Devil's Demeanor by Jerry Hart Read Free Book Online

fond of dogs, and Don knew at that moment his
cousin would have nightmares that night. He hoped he wouldn’t have to share a
bed with Jabari at the beach house—he was always wetting himself.
    As Don sat
there, his excitement for the beach house grew. He wanted to go now , but
everyone was still sitting around and talking loudly. His hunger was also
growing, so he got up from the couch and headed to the tiny kitchen. As soon as
he did, he saw Uncle Billy near the refrigerator.
    Don could
practically smell the alcohol on him as he stood there, glass in hand. He
stared at Don, and the boy could tell his uncle was remembering what he did to
him last year. Drinking and hugging didn’t mix. Don was only five years old and
even he knew that. He’d seen his dad drink enough times to know there were a
lot of things you couldn’t do while drunk.
    “Sorry about
last year, little man,” Uncle Billy said to him as he bowed his head. If Don
had known his uncle would be dead twenty years from that moment, he would have
accepted the apology.
    Instead Don
turned around in the cramped kitchen and looked at Mom. She was still sitting
in the chair by the wall, staring at him again. She’d probably been watching
him the whole time, seeing how he’d react around Uncle Billy.
    “Are you okay,
Mommy?” Don asked, looking at her bandaged leg.
    “I’m okay,
baby.” She reached out her arms to him and he let her pick him up and place him
on her lap.
    Grandpa was
sitting right next to them, and he smiled at Don. “Your mom is tough, boy. She
ain’t gonna let a little old dog get the best of her.”
    “It wasn’t that
little,” Mom said.
    “I suppose not.
I didn’t get a good look at it.”
    “Was it a
werewolf?” Don asked.
    Grandpa didn’t
answer right away. He only stared at the boy. Then he laughed. “No, grandson, I
don’t think it was a werewolf. Though I don’t think it was a regular dog,
either.”
    “What kind of
dog was it?” Don asked.
    “A demon dog.”
    Mom drew the
boy closer. “Bill, that’s enough. You’re going to scare him.”
    “He’d be right
to be scared. It’s an old legend, but that don’t make it untrue.” Grandpa
looked at Don. “There’s an old cave out in the woods near our house that’s said
to be a place of evil. In that cave lies a spirit that can infect anything that
enters.”
    “Like dogs?”
Don asked.
    “Exactly.
Though I hear it has infected people from time to time. No one knows for sure.”
    “And this was
on the news?” Mom asked sarcastically.
    “There was some
rumblings of a boy that got attacked by something from that cave and then had
an episode when he tried to step into a church in Pensacola. Nothin’
newsworthy, but it caused a ruckus.”
    “Does it make
you evil, too?” Don asked.
    Grandpa drew
closer and said, “Now there’s the strange thing. I hear it doesn’t make you
evil. It may give you evil thoughts but it doesn’t make you do evil things.
Instead, it waits.”
    Grandpa paused.
Mom sighed and said, “For what?”
    He looked
directly into her eyes and said, “It waits for you to do something evil on your
own. Then your soul belongs to it completely.”
    They stared at
each other for a long time while the smell of food burned Don’s nose and made
his belly rumble.
    “So what does
that mean for me?” Mom asked Grandpa. “Am I going to turn evil because I was
bitten by this demon dog?”
    “Not unless you do evil first, honey.”
    Mom laughed.
Grandpa laughed, too. Mom got up and Don took her seat. “I’m going to get you a
plate, baby,” she said to him.
    “Hope I didn’t
scare you with my story,” Grandpa said to Don. “Your mom will be all right.
She’s good people.”
    “So the story’s
not real?” Don asked.
    “I didn’t say
that,” Grandpa Bill replied.
    *   *   *
    After dinner,
everyone piled into a couple of cars and drove to the beach house. Don couldn’t
see anything out the windows of the van but the occasional